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“It was a rhetorical question!” she snapped. “You have to be the most incompetent person I have ever met.”
I blinked twice, stung by the harshness of her words.
Why did she have to be so mean?
As frustration bubbled within me, I mustered the courage to defend myself. “I would be happy to go through the wedding files with you, to make sure there are no other misunderstandings.”
“It's too late, Miss Fullerton,” she asserted. “You must understand that the future of our kingdom and my son’s happiness are at stake here.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“That’s a laugh!” I said. “You don’t care about your son’s happiness!”
Queen Annabelle jerked her head back. “I beg your pardon?”
“You want him to marry someone he doesn’t even love! Do you really think he is going to be happy with that? Well, I’ve got news for you—you’re dreaming! And it will be a nightmare for both of them if you think they’ll ever have a happily-ever-after.”
Whoops. I had not envisioned those words coming out of my mouth. Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to verbally spar with the queen at that moment, since I was sure she was about to fire me.
“How dare you!” Queen Annabelle said, her eyes bulging. “I will not be addressed in that insolent tone.” Then she turned to Oliver. “And what do you have to say about all of this? You’re the one who hired Miss Fullerton. I have no doubt that you did a background check on her as well. How could you hire such a person for the wedding? What were you thinking?”
“Mother, please be reasonable,” Oliver said. “Grace is highly qualified. She’s just had a string of bad luck.”
“A string?” Queen Annabelle barked out an unhinged laugh. “More like a frayed rope that stretches from Verdana to Los Angeles.”
“Grace does everything with good intentions and is a talented woman. She deserves a second chance,” Oliver pleaded.
The queen placed her hands on her hips. “If Grace is looking for chances, perhaps she could have a go at the roulette table, but the royal wedding is not a game to be played.”
“Mother, please,” Oliver said.
“Enough!” Queen Annabelle said. “This has gotten completely out of hand, and I will deal with you tomorrow, Oliver.” She turned back to me, completely livid, with fire in her eyes. “As for you, Miss Fullerton, you are dismissed. And just so there are no misunderstandings, that means your services are no longer required. Go back to L.A. You’re fired.”
Chapter Fourteen
PRINCE OLIVER
The Next Morning . . .
The steady hum of the two side-by-side treadmills filled the air in the royal gym. I reached for my towel and wiped my forehead, then glanced over at Dante, who seemed to be effortlessly keeping pace beside me.
“Last night was a disaster,” he said, his eyes never leaving the digital display in front of him. “The Royal Gazette would have had a field day with the latest news, but Mrs. Masterson went into premature labor and won’t be writing about it.”
“I hadn’t heard,” I said. “Who will be taking over the reporting for her?”
“I haven’t been informed yet, but I do know they are short-staffed,” Dante said. “Still, with recent developments, how come you don’t look worried?”
I hung the towel back on my treadmill, then increased the speed. My legs burned, but I welcomed the sensation, focusing on something other than the circus my life had become.
“Because I have no intention of giving up easily,” I said. “It was merely a minor setback.”
Dante glanced at the display on my treadmill, then increased the speed on his to match mine. “Minor? The queen fired Grace.”
“Attempted to fire Grace,” I said. “Luckily, I had my bases covered.”
Once I had shown Mother the contract that stipulated Grace was under my employment, she knew she was powerless, which made her even angrier with me. She knew she did not have the legal right to terminate Grace’s employment. She was furious with me for taking such a bold stand against her, but I held my ground firmly, knowing I did not have any other options.
“Besides, I’m starting to like having Grace around,” I added.
