Page 110 of Royal Icing
“Absolutely not,”John said as the three of them stood in the castle library. He had a pickleball racket slung over his shoulder, and his scowl suggested he was being held up. John didn’t seem surprised to see Emma, who was strolling the perimeter of the library, examining spines.
“Mother will kill me,” John added. “I’m already on the outs because of the whole…you know.”
“It’s just a family picture. She’ll love the warm fuzzies. Great publicity,” Leo said.
John considered the flames cracking in the hearth. “She won’t be happy about me tagging a social media account she didn’t approve of. Especially if it’s you. No offense.”
Leo raised his eyebrows. “Need I remind you that you’re going to be king someday? You don’t need to be afraid of her. And beyond that, you’re my brother. I’ve never asked you for anything. You know I wouldn’t ask unless it was really important.”
He could feel Emma’s eyes on him from across the room. He didn’t enjoy having her eavesdrop on his forced groveling to the king-dick-to-be.
John spun the head of his racket on a table for a moment and seemed to consider it.
“Why are you suddenly embracing social media? You’ve never wanted to be online before. Is this about the thing you’re trying to build?” he asked.
Leo nodded. Sometimes his brother was more than a pair of testicles in a tuxedo. While he had told John that he needed to tag his new account to get the word out, he had left out the part that he was planning to use it to garner followers and start a protest. Against their own parents.
“I just need to raise a little support, that’s all. This project is going to change lives, John. I need your help. Please.”
John sighed and pulled out his phone. He tapped away for a minute or two, then slid it back into his pocket.
“Close your DMs. Trust me.” He walked toward the door, then stopped. “By the way, whatever you’re planning to do, you need to do it quickly. They’re supposed to break ground on the ski resort on Monday.”
“Great,” Leo said. Another deadline.
They were going to have to work very fast. Would they pull it off, or would the project be pushed months or years down the road while they scouted a new location and rebuilt the entire crew while Hollybrook fell to gentrification? The women and children of Lynoria couldn’t wait.
“Exactly. Emma?” John asked.
She whirled around looking surprised. “Yes?”
“You quit the bakery?”
“In a manner of speaking,” she said.
“Good.”
He left without another word.
“Well,” Emma said after a beat, “I guess we know where things stand with him and Maya.”
Leo nodded. “Whatever happened with the bakery anyway? Did they reopen?”
Emma suppressed a smile. “It’s been closed all week. There are some rumors online it might be permanent.”
“I was hoping a disgruntled former employee might have burned it down,” he said. It was what Maya deserved.
Emma threw up her hands. “I don’t mess with arson. So you didn’t tell John about the whole trying-to-start-a-protest-to-save-the-lot thing?” she asked.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Right. Well, let’s have a quick meeting and schedule some posts so we can warm people up to the idea. Then we can take Mom out on the town. And take some more pictures.”
“No more pictures,” he said sternly.
“Do you want to save this project or not?” she asked.
He threw up his hands. The things he did for his country.
