Page 37 of The Princess and the Fraud

The clock was ticking on Aaron’s inheritance, so a moonlit dinner on a private yacht would’ve been the perfect time to propose. A romantic setting, and Fiona would’ve melted like a puddle in his palm. In fact, inviting him out on the yacht was probably her way of scheming it together, giving Aaron the picture-perfect opportunity to make his move.

A strange feeling washed over me, like something both hot and cold at the same time. I needed Aaron to get married to get Mom’s dream house, but the idea of Fiona waltzing into the ballroom with a rock on her finger, broadcasting her new status, caused my stomach to cramp.

And then the idea of the house on its own, and everything that’d accompany it like dominoes falling, only made my belly ache further.

“A shame.” Paige reached down for another pin. “And here I was hoping that our meeting yesterday was kismet, and Aaron fell in love at first sight.”

I laughed at her playful tone. “You could always be the mistress on the side.”

“Ooh, that’d be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Paige came off the ladder so we could shift it down in front of the doorway. I braced my hands on it, holding it steady while she climbed. I glanced at the clock. While we worked on hanging the tapestries, the catering staff worked on setting up the dessert stand, arranging the punch bowls, and making sure the centerpieces on each table were captivating and perfect. I glanced around, trying to spot anything out of place.

My gaze settled again on where Caroline and Annalise still stood, beautiful in their floral spring dresses. Both were pictures of beauty and grace where they stood on the polished marble. On the sidelines in my teal Alderton-Du Ponte polo, our differences couldn’t be any clearer.

Annalise had tried to come up to me when she arrived, but stopped a few feet away, as if remembering,ah, right, not while she’s working.

“You’restillon linens?” Mrs. Pine demanded as she entered the event space, her already wrinkled face scrunched up with a few new livid ones around her mouth. “Guests are set to arrive any minute, and you’re clogging up the doorway!”

Paige nearly dropped the pin I’d passed up to her at Mrs. Pine’s sudden appearance. “These are the last ones; I just need to pin them into place. It’s—it’s hard for me to reach?—”

“Lovisa, you do it, then,” Mrs. Pine ordered, not even hiding her eye roll. “It doesn’t take two people to hang fabric. Paige, go to the kitchen and see if they need a hand.”

“But I’m shorter than Paige?—”

“You’re not being paid to goof off, Lovisa,” Mrs. Pine snapped at me, icy tone unforgiving as she regarded the checklist in her hand. Apparently, there wasn’t too much left to do, if she had time to berate me. “Sometimes I think you let yourself get too comfortable around here.”

I pressed my lips together to seal in a retort, because it would be career suicide if I spoke up. So, instead, I nodded as Mrs. Pine went off to begin scolding the next staff member.

Paige hopped off the ladder. “You’ll be okay? It was hard for me, and I’ve got a couple inches on you.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

She gave me a sympathetic look. “Look on the bright side—if you fall and break your neck, you’d probably be able to sue.”

A small smile touched my lips. “Helpful.”

The reason I was here with Paige was to hold the ladder steady in case anyone rounded the corner to enter the room and bumped into it. It wasn’t the sturdiest thing to begin with—it looked like itshould’vebeen, since it was brand new and bulky, but it became wobbly once you got past the fourth rung. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but I was afraid of falling.

It would be fine, though. I just had to pleat one more yard of fabric to meet the other edge of the door frame, and then I’d be done. But where Paige stood on the sixth rung, I had to step up onto the seventh, and even then, it was a struggle to gather the fabric enough to create a pleat. As I stretched, the base wobbled a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to give my heart a stuttering jolt.

“Well, that doesn’t look safe at all.”

I jumped at the voice below me, pulse skipping again. Aaron stood before the ladder, staring up at me with his hands in his pockets. He wore a light gray button-down tucked into dark pants, his hair loose. Well-rested.Maybe because he slept on a yacht.

“Where did you even come from?” I demanded, more accusatory than I should’ve been. “I’ve been in the doorway?—”

“Thereisa side door,” he said, tipping his thumb over his shoulder. “And you do realize those pleats aren’t even, right?”

I gritted my teeth. “Gee, thanks for pointing it out.”

Aaron’s eyes trailed down to where my feet were on the ladder’s rung. “The spreader lock is missing.”

“The what?”

Aaron reached up and tapped a spot where it looked like a bolt should’ve gone. “The thing that locks the legs in a stable position. A place that rakes in as much money as this does per year can’t afford to buy a new step ladder?” He reached out and laid his hands on each side of the metal legs, gripping it tight. “I’ll hold it steady while you finish your abysmal hanging job.”

I choked out a disbelieving scoff. “I’d like to see you do better.”

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