Page 53 of The Princess and the Fraud

Aaron let out a small breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “I may have heard of it once or twice.”

“Have you… seen it yet?”

“Not yet. Mrs. Conan convinced the charity’s directors to hold out until the fundraiser to be surprised.” There was a soft shifting sound, like Aaron repositioned the phone against his ear. “Why?”

“Meet me in the Alderton-Du Ponte lobby.”

“Right now?”

“I asked if you were busy.” This time, it definitely did come out as a snap. I squeezed the plastic phone cord between my fingers. “If you are?—”

“Goodness, Lovisa, I wasclarifying. Let me get dressed and I’ll be right there.”

Get dressed?“You’re still in your pajamas? It’s, like, noon.”

“I just finished my shower, if you must know.”

The image of him with a towel around his waist, phone in his hand, filled my mind’s eye. I’d caught a glimpse of his chest once in the closet, as he shrugged off his mimosa-stained shirt, so my imagination didn’t have to work too hard. Water dripping from his dark hair, slipping down his smooth skin…

I slammed the receiver down without a word and hurried from the cramped room, cheeks flaming like fire.

There was still about fifteen minutes left until 12:30, which meant there was plenty of time before the staff assigned to the music hall were supposed to be back from their lunch break.

The perfect window.

I only had to wait in the Alderton-Du Ponte lobby for a moment before Aaron turned the corner from the hotel side and began walking down the pathway that led to the country club’s side. He wore a black sweater tucked into a pair of black pants, one hand in his pocket as he walked. His dark hair was loose and unstyled, and as he got closer, I could see the tips were still damp.

I drew in a breath, forcing my limbs to relax, to shake off the unease. This was my white flag—no more reason to feel guilty when I saw him. Nope.

Aaron’s dark eyes traced mine as he stopped before me. “Afternoon,” he greeted with an air of politeness. “I can’t be long. I’m meeting Fiona at one.”

“Got it,” I replied with an air of awkwardness. A lunch date at one o’clock on a Monday—that was what happened when two people were unemployed. “Follow me.” And without waiting for him to reply, I turned on my heel and hurried down the nearest hallway.

Aaron caught up quickly, his shoes clicking softly against the marbled floor. “You’re allowed to be doing this?” he asked. “Showing me the music hall?”

“Ah. No.” My teeth grazed my lower lip. “It’s our secret, so when youdosee it for the first time, pretend to be impressed.”

Aaron chuckled a little, keeping pace. “I get it. This is your way of apologizing.”

I could’ve grumbled then, because maybe hedidunderstand me a little. Maybe I shouldn’t have snapped at him as fiercely as I had on Saturday. I’d never admit that aloud, though.

We stopped in front of a metal door that held no window into the room. There was no plaque hinting of what the room was, but therewasa faint outline in the paint, hinting there had been a plate at some point. Even in its absence, I could still visualize the bold letters.

Du Ponte Music Hall.

I eased the door open and poked my head in, listening. “Hello?” I called. No response. “We’re good,” I told Aaron, and stepped inside.

Nancy Du Ponte, the original founder of the building, had been allowed to choose whatever she wanted when they built this space, and she chose a concert hall. It used to be the prime space for holiday plays, parties, and fundraisers until the ballroom was constructed. And now, with most of the country club kiddos grown, and no more children’s plays to be had, the most the once-beautiful space served for now was storage.

It’s too stuffy, the members would complain, because the ceiling was made of plaster rather than glass.

It’s too cramped, they’d say, because there weren’t any windows on the walls.

It’s too dull, they’d say, because the flooring was carpeted rather than marbled tile.

The list of criticisms dragged on, but I knew the truth—the space was perfect.

“It’s no Royal Albert Hall,” I murmured, letting Aaron analyze the space for the first time. “But it’s special.”

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