Breaking Up the Royals by Fiona West

Author:Fiona West
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tempest and Kite
Published: 2021-02-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

ABBIE SETTLED INTO a rhythm, pouring pancakes, frying bacon, flipping pancakes, boiling water for more tea. And it felt like home, felt like her space more than any other place with the Browards had, because she knew exactly what to do here. She wanted to hold on to the feeling so badly, she waved away the kitchen staff when they hurried into the house at 7 a.m., red-faced and apologizing. When everyone was up, she went to the office to get Parker. The door was cracked open, and she raised her hand to knock.

“No, there’s no way we can wait that long. Abelia needs to get back to work as soon as possible. Press them for a temporary passport for her; she’s royalty, surely they can do better than that.” He paused, listening. “Good, I want an update in three hours. What was in the envelope that was left on her bed? Were his prints on it?”

She heard him sigh deeply and his glasses clattered onto the desk as he whipped them off. “They were inside her apartment?”

Abbie’s hand covered her mouth in surprise. She didn’t want to hear any more. She pushed open the door silently and waited for him to notice her. “It’s ready,” she whispered, and he nodded. Abbie closed the door quietly behind her and wandered back to the safety of the kitchen . . . wondering if it really was safe, after all. Maybe she could lean on Georgie for the rest of the report later. She didn’t want to stress Parker out any more.

When he finally appeared at the breakfast table, he was quiet. When his siblings tried to engage him, they were met with grunts and nods and too-small smiles. When he pushed away his unfinished meal, Abbie caught his eye.

“Want to go for a walk?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “In your pajamas?”

She rolled her eyes. “I will dress first if you insist, but you’re stifling my natural vacation state.” By the time she got back to the foyer, he was waiting—with Simon. Well, I was hoping for a private walk, but it looks like that’s not happening . . . oh well. His face conveyed regret, but she smiled at them both.

“Has Simon offered to chaperone our walk?”

“He has indeed; in fact, he’s gone one step further and suggested that we go fishing.” The boy’s face was silently pleading with her. She checked her cell phone.

“Well, it’s a bit late in the day, but maybe the fish would like a midmorning snack.”

Lily poked her head out of the kitchen. “It’s up to you, Abbie. If you wanted a moment alone with Edward, I’m sure Simon would understand . . .”

“No, I would not. I want to go, too.”

The queen’s stern look sobered him, and Abbie wondered if she would teach her how to do that; she seemed to have a veritable treasure chest of “looks” that subdued her offspring.

“Simon’s welcome to come with us. Be glad to have him.” Before anyone could respond, he ran off to the shed to grab poles.

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