Once upon a royal summer, p.1
Once Upon a Royal Summer, page 1
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Cucumber Dill Tea Sandwiches
About the Author
Sneak Preview
Once Upon a Royal Summer
Copyright © 2021 Teri Wilson
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Print: 978-1-952210-18-1
eBook: 978-1-952210-19-8
www.hallmarkpublishing.com
For everyone who grew up with princess dreams,
this one’s for you. xo
CHAPTER ONE
Not the Kate Middleton Kind
“I didn’t realize I’d be dining with royalty this evening.” Mark Cooper, Lacey Pope’s unofficial fiancé, sighed at her when she sat down at the restaurant table.
Uh-oh. She’d done it again.
“I forgot to take off my tiara, didn’t I?” she asked, reaching up to check for the massive rhinestone adornment she pinned to her head with no less than thirty-five bobby pins every morning for her day job.
Yep, definitely still there.
“Indeed, you did.” Mark nodded and reached for his martini.
Welp, this was awkward. They weren’t exactly seated in the sort of establishment where oversized, gaudy tiaras were commonplace. Mark was dressed in one of the crisp, tailored business suits he wore to work every day at his family’s investment banking firm. His tie was the same shade of green as his eyes. As usual, his hair was trimmed short with a neat part on the side. Mark always looked like he’d walked off the pages of a Brooks Brothers catalogue. At times, Lacey felt a bit too sparkly and colorful by comparison. Times like now, for instance. This place was fancy. Lacey hadn’t even had to put her own napkin in her lap. The maître d’ had done it for her, just after she’d dashed to the table to meet Mark, five minutes late for their reservation.
It would’ve been nice if the maître d’ had given her a little heads up about the crown on her head, instead. Lacey could’ve handled the napkin on her own.
Why, oh why, had she worn her favorite step-in, wraparound polka dot Kate Spade jumpsuit to dinner instead of a dress? One of her cute fit-and-flares never would’ve made it over her head without snagging on the crown and giving her a clue. Lesson learned.
“Sorry.” She pulled a face. “I’ll just run to the ladies’ room real quick and—”
“Look! It’s a princess!”
A little boy and girl, both around six or seven, slowed to a stop beside Lacey’s chair.
Yes, technically, Lacey was a princess—only, not the Kate Middleton kind. More like the coach-turns-into-a-pumpkin-after-midnight type who earned a modest hourly wage.
“Here we go,” Mark muttered and took another generous gulp of his martini.
“Are you a real princess?” the girl asked, wide-eyed.
The boy glanced around Lacey’s periphery. “Do you have a lightsaber?”
“Sort of,” Lacey said to the girl, then switched her attention to the boy. “And no.” Alas, Lacey didn’t have a lightsaber tucked into her handbag, because she wasn’t the sci-fi sort of princess, either.
Lacey—known as Princess Sweet Pea at the Once Upon A Time amusement park in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida—was theme park royalty. The very best sort of royalty, as far as Lacey was concerned.
“Brittany. Benjamin.” A flustered woman in a pretty red sheath dress took hold of their two small hands. “Our table is ready. Let’s not bother this nice couple.” The mom offered Mark a polite smile and glanced at Lacey’s ginormous crown with an equal mixture of curiosity and confusion. “So sorry to have bothered you, Your…um…Highness.”
Mark snorted.
“Oh, it’s no bother. Really.” Lacey winked at the children.
Brittany’s eyes danced, and little Benjamin’s face turned as red as Riding Hood’s cape. Lacey smiled as the children moved on toward their table, sneaking Lacey bashful waves behind their mother’s back.
Lacey grinned at Mark. “Aren’t they cute?”
“Precious,” he said, gaze fixed on the menu in front of him.
Contrary to popular belief, being a theme park princess wasn’t the easiest gig in the world, and definitely not a fairy tale. For starters, rocking elbow-length white gloves and a ballgown embellished with not one, not three, but six billowing layers of tulle could get a tad warm in the stifling Florida heat and humidity. Not quite as stifling as being trapped inside a furry bear costume—as Lacey knew all too well from her stint as Baby Bear from Goldilocks and the Three Bears, her warm-up gig for the coveted role of princess—but still. Glass slippers weren’t all that comfortable, either, particularly when the aforementioned ballgown made it impossible to sit down for eight-plus hours a day.
And the glittering tiara responsible for the grimace on Mark’s face? It was way heavier than it looked, which Lacey supposed made it all the more baffling to her unofficial fiancé why she sometimes forgot to take it off.
It was simple, really. Lacey always seemed be dashing out of the park thirty or forty-five minutes after her shift was supposed to have ended. She didn’t mean for it to happen, but she couldn’t seem to tear herself away when there was a line of boys and girls waiting to see her. Lacey always wound up staying until she’d greeted every single one of them.
“We had kids from the Make-A-Wish Foundation out at the park this afternoon,” Lacey said.
“That’s nice.” Mark glanced up from his menu. “I ordered you a glass of champagne. Try it. It’s from that region in France where we discussed going for our honeymoon.” He flashed her a wink.
Lacey’s face went warm as she reached for her champagne flute. It seemed weird talking about a honeymoon when they weren’t technically engaged yet. Mark wanted to talk to his parents before he officially popped the question, though. He insisted it was just a formality, but every time they discussed it, Lacey felt a little sick to her stomach.
Mark’s parents were lovely people. It wasn’t that Lacey didn’t like them. She did, and as far as she could tell, they were fond of her too. But the waterfront mansion where Mark had grown up in Ft. Lauderdale’s exclusive Las Olas Isles, complete with a yacht docked at the shore, was a world away from the modest Dallas suburb where Lacey grew up. Sunday dinners with Mr. and Mrs. Cooper sometimes seemed almost as fancy as the tea parties Lacey attended every afternoon in the Ever After Castle as Princess Sweet Pea.
“I think I’ll have the coq au vin.” Mark closed his menu. “You?”
Lacey had heard of coq au vin, but still wasn’t altogether sure what it was. “The chicken sounds good.” She took a sip of her champagne and caught herself holding her wrists upturned with her fingertips posed just so—“Cinderella hands,” as the theme park princess handbook called them. Sometimes it was hard to turn off the royal thing. She shoved her hands in her lap.
“I had lunch with my mother today,” Mark said, leaning forward and smiling at her in a way that told her this dinner might be more than just an ordinary date night.
Lacey’s heart thumped hard in her chest. “Oh, really?”
“And she assured me she and Dad would be thrilled if I were to pop the question.” He arched an eyebrow. “We might have even set an appointment at the bank to get Grandmother’s ring out of the safety deposit box.”
Okay, so no engagement tonight, but it was definitely on the horizon.
Lacey could hardly believe it. She’d just always sort of imagined that if she ever did get married, it would feel a bit more romantic. This was beginning to seem more like a business arrangement than an engagement.
Get over yourself. You love Mark, and he loves you. Fairy tales and castles aren’t real, remember?
Maybe she was letting the tiara go to her head.
“Isn’t that wonderful, babe?” Mark searched her face.
Lacey forced her lips into a proper smile. “So wonderful.”
He signaled for the waiter to bring him another martini. “There are still a few details to work out, obviously.”
“Obviously,” she echoed. But wait, what was he talking about? Surely they weren’t going to start planning the wedding before they were actually engaged.
“Mother asked if you’d given any more thought to what you might want to do once this”—he shot a loaded look at the crown on her head—“princess thing is over. I assured her you have big plans.”
“I do?” Lacey’s gaze flitted over Mark’s shoulder. The two sweet children wh
“Come on, babe. Being Princess Sweetheart isn’t exactly a long-term plan. You said so yourself.”
“Princess Sweet Pea,” Lacey corrected. Honestly, had he ever cracked open the leather-bound copy of Classic Fairy Tales she’d given him for Christmas last year, after he’d insisted he wanted to turn his home office into a library?
“Princess Sweet Pea. Of course.” Mark’s second cocktail arrived, and he eyed it like Goldilocks eyeing a bowl full of porridge. “The point is you’re almost twenty-seven years old. Eventually, and probably in the not-so-distant future, you’re going to age out of the princess gig. What are you going to do then? We talked about this, remember?”
They had indeed talked about it. Several times, actually. Lacey knew she was going to have to move on from her job at the theme park, sooner rather than later. She just couldn’t figure out what she wanted to do next. Playing the part of Princess Sweet Pea meant the world to her. Giving it up was proving to be more difficult than she’d thought it would.
“I suppose I could transition into wicked stepmother territory.” Lacey laughed.
Mark, pointedly, did not. Which was fine, because she wasn’t entirely joking. The wicked stepmother role seemed like a total hoot. They were hugely popular with guests at Once Upon A Time.
“Anyway.” A muscle in Mark’s jaw ticked. “I told Mother you’d mentioned getting your teaching certificate. Or that you might want to work at a nonprofit or something. I know what a heart you have for kids. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
He smiled, and Lacey felt a tiny bit better. She knew she was probably being overly sensitive about the job thing. But once upon a time, she’d been a lonely child in a hospital waiting room, and the theme park princesses who came to visit patients and their family members in the oncology ward had gotten her through the worst part of her childhood…the worst part of her life, really.
This was her dream job. It always had been. She’d never wanted to be anything else.
“Mother said she could help get you on the board of one of those charities you love so much. The children’s hospital, perhaps?”
Lacey brightened for a moment. Working with kids at the children’s hospital was indeed right up her alley.
But board members weren’t typically that hands-on with patients and families, were they? She’d want to spend her time in the actual hospital, not in a conference room or office.
“That’s a really generous offer.” Lacey reached for her champagne flute and then stopped herself. She wasn’t feeling particularly bubbly and sparkly at the moment. If he’d expected her to give up anything but her job, she might’ve considered it. Not this, though…anything but this. “But you know how much I love what I do, Mark. I’m not quite ready.”
“Lacey, sweetheart.” Mark reached for her hand and took it in his. “You can’t keep playing dress-up forever.”
A painful lump formed in Lacey’s throat.
Had she just heard him correctly?
Surely not. If anyone knew why Lacey’s job meant so much to her, it was Mark. They’d been dating for almost three months before she’d told him about losing her mom when she was seven years old. She’d opened up to him about it in a way she rarely had before—or since.
“Mark, you know being a theme park princess is more than playing dress-up. So much more. I’ve wanted to do this my entire life.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he said. Lacey really wished he’d stop calling her that. “But you’ve done it. It’s been, what—five years? Isn’t it time to start thinking about a proper career? Your schedule is grueling. I barely see you. If we’re going to build a life together, shouldn’t we see each other more than only on the one or two nights a week you don’t have to close down the theme park?”
He had a point. They didn’t spend as much time together as either of them wanted to, but Lacey thought being married would solve that problem. She and Mark would be together all the time, morning, noon, and night. Well, except when they were at work. And their schedules didn’t exactly overlap much. They’d both been working extra hours the past few months.
Again, Lacey knew this discussion had been coming. She was in full agreement with everything he was saying. She’d thought she was, anyway. Now that the conversation was actually taking place and giving her notice seemed imminent, Lacey wasn’t so sure.
She took a deep breath. One more month. Just give me one more month, and then I’ll quit and go back to school to get my teaching certificate. Why did everything have to happen right this second? “I know the hours aren’t the greatest…”
Mark arched an eyebrow. “And by the time you leave work, you’re covered in glitter.”
“You say glitter like it’s a bad thing,” Lacey said, mustering up a smile. What kind of person didn’t like a little sparkle?
The kind you’re going to marry, apparently.
And suddenly, Lacey knew she couldn’t marry Mark. Not now, and not however many days, months, or years into the future it might be when she couldn’t do her dream job anymore.
Clearly, she’d missed some major red flags. Mark had always seemed so sweet and attentive, even though he’d never used any of the free passes she’d given him to Once Upon A Time. Lacey liked how close to his family he seemed. She’d met so many men her age who didn’t spend much time at all with their parents.
She’d obviously misread the comments he’d made in the past about her career choice as interest—maybe even pride in how much she loved what she did—when really, they’d meant something else entirely.
Lacey swallowed around the lump in her throat and slid her hand away from his and back to her lap.
They were about to break up, weren’t they?
She blinked hard, waiting for the tears to come. The anticipation of the impending heartbreak was excruciating.
But then the strangest thing happened: nothing at all. No wracking sobs, no sniffles, not even a single tear slipping poignantly down her cheek. She simply felt…numb. Which seemed like an even bigger problem than her lackluster career choice.
“Mark, I don’t think this is going to work,” she said quietly.
Did she actually love him?
If there was even a glimmer of doubt in her mind about that, she couldn’t go through with an engagement. Doing so wouldn’t be fair to either one of them.
Mark shrugged one shoulder. “If you don’t want to sit on a board, you don’t have to. I’m sure we can come up with something else more suitable.”
“Suitable?” What was happening? How had this dinner gone so spectacularly off the rails? “When you put it like that, it makes me wonder if you think there’s something wrong with my job. Or worse, with me.”
Why did there have to be a time limit for her to figure out her future?
Mark sighed. “Lacey, would I want to marry you if I thought there was something wrong with you?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. You just said I wasn’t suitable. That sounds an awfully lot like you think I’m not good enough to be your wife.”
“Lacey…”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. When I said I didn’t think this was going to work out, I didn’t mean the board job. I meant us.” She felt her chin start to quiver.
Don’t cry. Do not.
Whether she truly loved him or not, breaking up was devastating, and Lacey was now one hundred percent sure that’s what was happening.
Mark grew very still. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. I’m sorry, Mark.” Lacey nudged her chair back, and the maître d’ raced over to snatch her napkin out of her lap and help her to her feet. Super. Just what she needed—a witness to this painful moment.
She stood awkwardly at the table, waiting for Mark to acknowledge they were officially over. Lacey’s gaze snagged on her reflection in the window beside them. The huge crown on her head glittered like mad beneath the restaurant’s elegant mood lighting.
“We could’ve been good together.” He reached for his drink with exaggerated calm, as if she’d just told him she wanted to switch cell phone carriers instead of end their relationship. How on earth had it taken her nearly a year to realize how little they had in common? “Call me after you’ve given this more thought, sweetheart. We can still make this work. No one’s going to come charging in on a white horse to sweep you off your feet. That crown on your head isn’t real.” He narrowed his gaze at her tiara. “And neither is Prince Charming.”
