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A Spot of Tea
Tyler
London, England
I should’ve never come here…
“Tyler, don’t you want to catch up with Princess Victoria while you’re here?” My stepmother cornered me in the high tea room. “She’s worried sick about you amidst this latest scandal.”
“For the umpteenth time, I’m only here because I promised my grandmother that I’d show my face,” I said. “Don’t expect anything more than that.”
“Fine.” She signaled to security, and suddenly the room cleared, leaving only the two of us.
For fuck’s sake.
“My flight leaves in a few hours,” I said. “I would prefer if you left me alone. Unless, you’re not the only person in this family who has cancer?”
“Who in the family has cancer, Tyler?”
I shook my head. “No one, clearly.”
“How much does the girl want?”
“Who?”
She sighed, lowering her voice. “The one you’ve knocked up. This homely, Chloe March girl.”
“There’s nothing homely about Chloe.”
“That’s subjective.” She shrugged. “How much do you think we can pay her to go away and claim that this is all a ruse?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“We’ve lost our hold on the narrative ever since the news broke. Just when we were getting back on top, this loose woman knocks us out with her game.”
I set down my drink, my blood simmering.
“You’ve never stayed faithful to any woman for more than a few weeks or so at a time, so it’s not like it wouldn’t be believable that the two of you didn’t work out. Especially if we can put a leash on this story before it gets out of hand.”
“Define out of hand.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She had the nerve to smile. “Someone could think that this is an actual relationship and not a mistaken drunk night on your part. Marriage rumors and such.”
“I’m proposing to her sometime next week.”
“That’s a very funny joke.”
“Neither of us is laughing.”
“I just want what’s best the family,” she said. “Whether you’re here performing duties and being in the London public, your actions have consequences and we need to get rid of this problem sooner rather than later.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, you’ll help us get rid of her?”
“No. It’s more like ‘Okay. I was wrong about coming here, even for my grandmother.’” I said, looking directly into her eyes. “I’m done with you, all of you.”
“Tyler—”
“Do not call me, don’t reach out to anyone who is with me in the States. You won’t receive an answer. Ever.”
Her face paled.
“Since you want to write narratives, feel free to tell everyone that I’ll never come back to this country again. Not even in a fucking casket. You’re all dead to me.”
“Please, wait. I didn’t mean to—”
“Save it.” I moved past her and headed toward the exit, making a beeline for the town car.
Seattle was the only city I would ever call home again.
