A Princess for a Bride (Rothman Royals Book 2) by Noelle Adams

Author:Noelle Adams [Adams, Noelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-02-07T23:00:00+00:00

Six

On Wednesday evening, I went over to the Geneva apartment to meet up with Edward so we could go to his business dinner together.

The dinner was with an American business associate of the company and his wife. Edward and I met the others at the restaurant, and we all had a cocktail at the bar to the accompaniment of typical small talk about the weather and the traffic.

The couple was middle-aged and friendly in that typical expansive American way, but it didn’t take me too long to recognize that underlying the social niceties was a nuance of something in their behavior—something that made me sense a current of resentment toward Edward.

I hate passive-aggressiveness. It’s always been one of those attitudes that riles me up. And the more I sensed it toward Edward—from this couple who were acting so friendly on the outside—the more bristly I became.

Edward either didn’t notice it or knew how to ignore such behavior. He never became defensive, and there was never even an edge of reciprocity in his conversation or expressions.

I tried to follow his example, but it became increasingly difficult as they needled him about a bad real estate investment he must have made in New York a few years ago. It was supposed to be teasing, but it wasn’t.

It wasn’t.

Finally, the topic died as we were shown to our table and went through the process of ordering our meals.

I usually drink milk with food, but I knew it was a strange habit for an adult. I never worried much what other people thought, but Edward clearly was supposed to play nice with this couple, and I didn’t want to give them any reason to think I was strange so I decided to just drink the wine Edward ordered for the table.

When he noticed, he turned toward me and murmured, “You don’t want milk?”

I shook my head. “I’m good with wine.”

Edward looked confused but didn’t comment further.

I was just relaxing in relief that the awkward cocktail time was over when a new topic of conversation began.

Mae, the American wife, asked with a glimmer of interest in her eye, “So your wife is a princess, is she?”

Edward’s smile was as bland as ever. “Yes. She is.”

“That’s what Carl said, but I didn’t believe him.” Mae poked at her grinning husband. “I thought he was putting me on.”

“He wasn’t.”

“What country are you a princess of?”

I managed a friendly smile. “Villemont. It borders Switzerland and France—just thirty miles away from here.”

“Told you,” Carl put in, slanting his wife a look.

“Never heard of it,” Mae said.

“It’s very small,” I said, trying not to feel defensive. I hated the edge of humor toward my beloved and much-patronized country, but it was better than them making fun of Edward. “A lot of people have never heard of it, unless they’re from this part of Europe.”

“You sound like you’re English,” Carl mentioned.

“My mother is, and our governesses were. That’s probably why.”

“Governesses.” Mae poked her husband again. “Sounds very Sound of Music.”

I swallowed and willed myself to hold on to my polite smile.

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