Royal Trouble by Jennifer Bonds

Author:Jennifer Bonds
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Billionaire Romance; Contemporary Romance; Coming of Age Fiction; Romantic Comedy; Women's Humorous Fiction; British Humor & Satire Literature; Romantic Heroes Royalty & Aristocrats; Entangled Publishing; Single Title Romance; Stand Alone Romance; Series Romance; royally engaged Royal Trouble by Jennifer Bonds; A Royal Disaster by Jennifer Bonds; royalty; sexy; playboy reformed; opposites attract romance; alpha male; alpha hero; enemies to lovers romance; rich boy poor girl romance; international romance; prince; wealthy; journalist; writer; novelist; cancer; cancer treatment; coming of age romance; reconciliation romance; lies; secrets; betrayal; hidden agenda; remorse; brothers; heir; line of succession; family drama; tabloids; press; scandal; rom-com; romantic comedy;
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-11-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Everly stood directly under the showerhead, letting the hot spray rinse away the last of the cobwebs in her sleep-deprived brain. She’d been up half the night finishing the story for On Point, and she’d slept late. She was desperate to get her hands on a cup of coffee, and since she’d run out, that meant a trip to the market.

It would be a good distraction. If she didn’t find something to do with herself, she’d spend the afternoon obsessively checking her email for a reply from Guy Larson.

Dammit.

The urge to check her email was already scratching at her brain. It had to be what, like eight a.m. in New York? Surely a man like Mr. Larson—who’d spent his entire life in the magazine business—was an early riser. And he had responded pretty quickly to her first submission, so a girl could hope.

Everly scrubbed herself clean and used the last of her lavender and lemongrass shampoo to wash her hair. Right. She’d need to pick up shampoo while she was out, too. She rinsed and quickly shaved her legs, promising herself a caramel latte as a reward for making an effort. Because, shaving.

Just as she shut off the water, her cell rang, scaring the shit out of her. She jerked upright and nearly fell on her ass in the slippery claw-foot tub. Lovely. Lucy would come home from her honeymoon to find Everly lying incapacitated in the bathtub like one of those awful medical alert commercials for seniors.

Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

The phone rang again, its insistent melody calling to her like a siren. She grabbed the towel bar and righted herself. The smart move would be to let it go to voicemail. She was naked, dripping wet, and she’d quite possibly just pulled a muscle in her back, but there was no way in hell she was letting that call go to voicemail without first seeing who was calling.

Everly climbed out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her body before snatching the phone off the sink. On Point flashed on the caller ID. She swiped accept and raised the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Miss Winston,” came Mr. Larson’s gruff reply.

“Speaking.” Or at least, the person he thought was Miss Winston was speaking. It was pointless to try to correct him, and why did it matter, really? She could put up with him using the wrong name if it meant he was paying for it.

“I received your latest submission,” he said. “I appreciate the effort you’ve put into this story, but it’s not really what we’re looking for.”

Her heart sank. “Oh.”

Because what else could she say to the man who was crushing her soul and her last hope of paying off her mother’s medical bills?

Fuck. What was she going to do? She couldn’t tell her mom the truth. She wouldn’t understand. Not about Royals Gone Wild or the rest.

Her stomach rolled. Her mom was all she had. The thought of disappointing her—of hurting her—was unbearable.

“I thought I made myself clear when I gave you this assignment, but that is obviously not the case.

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