Page 6 of Fallen King


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Nope. Her kingdom just grew while mine vanished.

Max Kingston stands to my father’s left. At thirty-two, the oldest Kingston sibling is already a titan in the sports world, and I don’t need an article to tell me that acquiring my family’s team just massively increased his portfolio. I suddenly feel like the clock is ticking for me to make my mark on the world.

There’s something about the way he’s standing at my desk... as if he’s the master of the universe and expects the planets to revolve around him. And I get the impression I’m supposed to be one of those planets.

Like I don’t already have my own orbit.

My father shoves his hands in his pockets and looks over at the man next to him, who’s currently sucking all the oxygen from the room. “Daphne, I’d like to introduce you to Max and Scarlet Kingston. Max is stepping into the President of Operations position for the Revolution. After today, you’ll be reporting directly to him.”

And just like that, my orbit changes.

* * *

The rest of the day moved so excruciatingly slow that I wondered if it was ever going to end. A company meeting was held, followed by a Q&A session and a catered lunch. As if lunch from Bagliani’s was going to make everything better. Later that afternoon, I followed my father to the King Corp. home offices in Center City, Philly, for the official news conference regarding the acquisition before finally being told to go home.

Geez, a whole hour early.

Thanks for that.

After a quick trip to the liquor store—because was there seriously any other way to handle this day that didn’t involve alcohol?—I drop my bag onto the kitchen counter and wrap my fingers deftly around the bottle of tequila. I know tonight is supposed to be Margarita Monday, but hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere... right?

By the time my roommate, Maddie, walks into the kitchen, I’m already enjoying the burn of the tequila as it slides down my throat, promising to dull the ache in my chest.

The two of us have been staying with her brother, Brandon, since the lease on our campus housing expired after graduation last month. Mads is the only one who calls him by his first name. The rest of us were given strict instructions to call him “Dixon.”

I can appreciate that. I’m not fond of being called by my name either. Daphne, the ditz from Scooby Doo, ruined that for me at a young age.

We’re supposed to be looking for our own place, but Dix isn’t in any rush for Maddie to move out, so we’ve been taking our time. He isn’t hurting for space in his house that looks like it’s just waiting for a family, complete with a wife, two point five kids, and a golden retriever. Dixon’s the starting center for the Philadelphia Kings football team, and this house was his first big purchase when he got his signing bonus. Guess he isn’t the bachelor-pad kinda guy.

He and Maddie grew up in foster care, getting bounced from home to home. She doesn’t like to talk about it, but one night, she told me Dix likes the stability this house represents. It’s something neither of them had growing up.

I think he’d keep her here with him forever if she’d let him.

She snatches the bottle of tequila from my hand and holds it above my head.

“What the heck, D?” Mads never curses. “Heck” is about as strong as it gets for her.

When I reach for it, she holds it higher. “Not until you tell me what’s got you doing shots straight from the bottle.”

She tilts her head to the side, watching and waiting for me to answer.

Maddie and I were placed in the same dorm room our first semester in college. I’d been so worried about living with a stranger that I begged my dad to let me commute instead of living on campus, but it turned out to be unwarranted. Mads is amazing, and other than both of us being blondes, we’re polar opposites. She’s tall to my short. Graceful and athletic compared to my uncoordinated self who hates to sweat. I’m book smart, and she’s the street-smart friend you want by your side when you’re walking through the city.

But most importantly, her heart is huge, and she wears it proudly on her sleeve. Not that I don’t have a big heart, but mine might be a tad bit more closed off than hers.

Four years later, she’s one of my closest friends.

She’s a dance teacher by day at Hart & Soul Academy of Dance in Kroydon Hills, teaching dance and the occasional yoga classes for the owner, Annabelle Sinclair. Belle’s husband, Declan, happens to be Carys’s oldest stepbrother and the starting quarterback for the Philadelphia Kings. In case we needed our lives to be even more Six Degrees Of Kevin Bacon, Mads also runs her brother’s social media accounts by night, and Belles has asked her to consider taking on her husband’s as well.

I swear, you need a string board to keep track of how everyone in this town is connected.

Guess not much has changed since high school.

I pull myself up to sit on the kitchen counter behind me and drop my head back against the cabinet. “You’re never going to believe the day I had.”

She puts the tequila down on the table and empties the rest of the contents from my shopping bag as I tell her about my morning and the staff meeting that followed before we were all given the rest of the day off.

Maddie’s blue eyes blink back at me. “Holy cow, D. You had no idea?”

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