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I can practically hear my dad’s brow raise, but surprisingly he doesn’t call me out on it.
“Good then. I’ll send a limo for you two on Saturday night. But Cindi, imagine how amazing it would be to be an actual princess.”
“I’ll see you Saturday, Dad.”
“Cindi?”
“Yes, Dad?”
“I am looking forward to meeting your gentleman. I just hope he’s not the jealous type, because I already promised you’d save a few dances for the prince.”
Like the sneaky, meddling father he is, he hangs up before I can protest. I swear under my breath.
And ten minutes later, I’m still sitting there, wondering how I got myself into this predicament. And how the hell I can get myself out of it, all the while avoiding having to dance with a droopy-nosed Dane.
“Elle, you won’t believe who I saw at The Golden Bean—” Blanca stops short, two coffees and a little bag from the pastry shop we love down the street in her hands.
She takes one look at me, plops her ass on the edge of my desk, and thrusts the coffee and pastry bag toward me. “Looks like a carb emergency.”
I nod, snatching the bag and peering inside.
“Any chance the coffee is Irish?” I ask, huffing a laugh. Peeking in the bag, my eyes dart up to hers, hopefully conveying my everlasting gratitude. “My favorite. Have I told you lately how much I love you?” I scoop the blueberry crumble muffin out of the bag and take a huge bite, chewing it like it’s wronged me.
“That kind of day already, huh?” Blanca asks cautiously, reaching for her own muffin and two napkins. “What’s going on?”
I finish chewing and set my muffin down on the napkin with a sigh. “Where do I even start?”
“At the beginning? Is it work related? I’m leaning toward no, seeing as how it’s not even office hours yet and your laptop is still in your bag.”
“It’s my dad and his pushy matchmaking nonsense. Usually it’s my mother that does this.”
She frowns. “Wouldn’t he be good at it? He knows a lot of people who are established and unlikely to have a gaming addiction.”
I fall back in my chair. “Would you let my dad pick your future husband?”
“Ha!” she blurts. “Hell no!”
“Exactly.”
“So who’s he trying to hook you up with?” She rises from the edge on my desk to sit in one of the chairs across from my desk.
“The crown prince of Denmark,” I blurt, and the whole story comes tumbling out.
“Uh, and now you’ve got to find a date fast, or be forced to charm some uppity prince?”
I grimace. “No, that’s the worst part; it didn’t even work. He’s still expecting me to dance and entertain this guy, as well as the date I don’t really have.” Dropping my head into my hands, I whimper.
Blanca laughs and I look up narrowing my eyes at her. She holds up her hands. “Sorry.”
“What about the hot hockey player? Isn’t he from Denmark too? Maybe you can dress him up in a tux and sell it. And he can entertain his prince.”
“Dan?” I shake my head hard. “No,” I say, elongating the word. “Not gonna happen.”
“Why not?” Blanca’s a doll, but she doesn’t have parents in her life so she doesn’t understand the pressure and familial obligation that I have to deal with.
“That’s just… it’s… just no.” I sigh, and try to find the words to explain. “Dan is… he’s just for me, just for fun. He’s… gruff and crude and…”
“So damn sexy?” Blanca finishes my sentence with a twinkle in her eye.
