Just a King by Tabatha Kiss

Author:Tabatha Kiss [Kiss, Tabatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 48365277
Publisher: ARC Edition
Published: 2019-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

18

Kingston

I stand in the chapel entryway and wait.

It’s a place I’ve looked at a thousand times before tonight. This little chapel has stood across the street from my family’s hotel since before the hotel was even built. It’s not uncommon — in fact, it’s ridiculously common — for couples to book the Plaza for their weddings. We partner with this chapel to make those dreams come true, and we have ever since the day my father walked my mother down this very aisle nearly thirty years ago.

I suppose I always assumed I’d do the same someday, but I never expected someday to ever be tonight.

And yet, here we are.

Finally, a red sports car pulls up to the chapel and stops in front of me. The engine purrs into silence as the driver’s side door opens on the annoyed face of one of my oldest friends.

Stella Walsh. The Botsford family lawyer’s daughter.

She steps out in a pair of tight jeans and a baggy sweater with her short blonde bob blowing in the desert breeze. Not her usual attire but it’s not a usual night either.

“You know…” She tosses her handbag over her arm and closes the car door. “When a man calls me up at this hour and says Stella, I need you, I don’t usually have to put my pants on.”

I laugh. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“The Botsford family slogan.” She smirks. “I know it well.”

“Did you get what I asked for?”

She reaches into her handbag and pulls out the small, velvet box. “I had to bribe the security guard to let me into the boxes at this hour.”

I reach for it, but she pulls it back out of my reach. “How much?” I ask.

“A lot,” she answers, annoyed.

“Well, I’ll pay you back.” I present my palm. “Gimme.”

She doesn’t. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a ring. What do you think it’s for?”

“No, it’s an engagement ring. And we’re at a church.”

I squint. “Didn’t you go to Yale?”

She frowns. “Kingston.”

“Stella.”

“Why did you call me at eleven at night and ask me to fetch an engagement ring out of your family’s safe deposit box then meet you at a church?”

“Because I’m getting married, I wanted to use my grandmother’s ring, and you’re the only person I could trust to get it for me.”

Her head tilts in surprise. “Seriously?”

I snatch the box from her with nimble fingers and snap it open to inspect the ring. The gold band is still just as vibrant as the last time I saw it on my grandmother’s hand, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the diamond sticking up out of its center.

I may not be a jewel guy, but I know an expensive rock when I see it.

“Seriously,” I say.

“Getting married to who?”

I close the box and stick it in my jacket pocket. “Before I tell you, you have to promise not to tell your dad.”

She narrows her stark eyes. “Why not?”

“Because he’ll tell my dad. I need complete attorney-client privilege, but I can’t trust him not to go running to my dad.

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