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No. Not attracted. Don't use that word. Even if it’s true.
I let Ted know I’ll be driving myself today, and I get into my car that’s parked in the lot, not the chauffeured one.
I let out a frustrated grunt and punch the steering wheel a few times. It helps calm me down enough to place a call to Marcus. This is all his fault.
"Hey, what's up?" I hear him on the other line. How can he sound so casual?
"We have to meet," I tell him. "Now. Carlo’s in Midtown."
Carlo’s is a dimly lit private bar that never gives up a secret. I arrive first and secure a room in the back. I spend the next twenty minutes nursing a cocktail and wondering how I let Marcus get me into this mess. I thought he was my friend.
The door creaks open, and Marcus saunters in. His hopeful smile instantly fades as he picks up on my defeated expression. He slides into the chair opposite me.
"Things didn't go as planned," I mutter, swirling the ice in my otherwise empty glass. "Vivienne dashed out of the office before I was even done asking."
Marcus nods solemnly and sighs. "That's rough. But I think you can turn it around with a little bit of your princely charm. You owe it to yourself to try."
I can only scoff at him. “She stared at me like I was the village idiot. Why would I possibly want to set myself up to be looked at like that again?”
"I'm serious," he protests. "Vivienne is your best chance at getting into your father's good graces."
I place a drink order on the tablet and shake my head. "You're not wrong, Marcus. But if you saw the way she reacted, you'd know there was no chance she would come around. And if I push it again, she might sue for sexual harassment."
“I doubt she’d do that. But let's explore some other options, then. Money is not an object. You can hire an actress. You could pay for an escort. You can give any woman anything they could possibly want, so all you need is a woman who wants something."
I find myself shouting him down. "What I need is adecentwoman. A woman with no ulterior motives. Do you think I could bring a call girl to Solvaria and pass her off as my bride without the King figuring it out? Honestly."
The bartender slips a glass into the room and places it on the table just inside the door. I take a long sip while I collect my thoughts.
"It would have been so perfect with Vivienne because the King has already met her. He knows she's educated and dedicated to her job. He knows where she comes from, and she already knows how to maneuver around the royal family without causing a fuss. And she’s the daughter of a U.S. Senator. That can’t hurt."
Marcus gives me a peculiar gaze that makes me second-guess myself. "What?"
He lets out a bemused chuckle. "You were just telling me that Vivienne will never say yes, but it really doesn't sound like you want to consider any alternative."
I slam my glass on the table, mostly angry because he’s right. "You're the one who keeps saying she's the best option! You've put it in my head, that's all."
Marcus shakes his head. "You can keep telling yourself that. But I think you need to really stop and think about what you want before you make any decision."
"What I want is to find a woman who will say yes!" I snap at him.
"Then we'll have to pick someone else," he says with a shrug.
I let out a low grunt. "Someone less than perfect."
"Right," he agrees. "If you're okay with less than perfect, then I have a lead for you. There's a guy I know. He specializes in fake families and companions. He doesn't use call girls. These are highly trained performers who understand this kind of situation. Totally above board. Has connections with the theater world for people who need work."
He pulls out a cocktail napkin and a pen. "We just have to jot down some notes on the ideal companion to wow the King. He'll take care of the rest. And fortunately, we already have a template to go off of for perfection. How tall do you think Vivienne is?"
I stand up so fast that Marcus cowers back. "We're not creating a fake woman! Figure something else out."
I storm out of the room, my face burning with frustration. I walk back onto the sidewalk, squinting as I adjust to the brightness. My mind is a jumble of thoughts, about my father's health, fear of losing my position, and shame for how things went in the office.
But all my thoughts keep coming back to Vivienne.
For the briefest moment, I considered what Marcus was saying about crafting an imitation. But it felt wrong. Something is keeping me from moving past the idea of her.
Back in the car, I can't shake the image of Vivienne's face this afternoon. Even with all my staring, I’d never looked at her with such an exacting amount of detail before. Her eyes were magnetic, even as they looked at me in disgust.
