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“I’ll give you ten minutes to convince her. If she’s not willing now, then she’s not worth the wait.”
“Right now?” My heart clenched as I calculated the time change in my mind. Though it was barely morning for us, it was the middle of the night for her.
“Right now.” The look of triumph on Mother’s face revealed her unmistakable victory. “If she is truly as loyal as you describe, she should feel privileged to serve the crown.”
“Yes,” I swallowed my nerves as she called my bluff, “I’m sure she will.”
Michaela
“Stop hogging the pizza, Mick.” Marjorie tugged on the tray. “I thought pageant queens were supposed to survive on lettuce.”
I held up a finger as the guys waited for my answer. “First, I’m retired.” I stole another slice of pepperoni pizza. “Second, that’s a stereotype. I can’t count how many pageant afterparties had eating competitions.”
“That’s hot.” Jax’s mouth tipped up in a crooked grin.
Marjorie kept telling me I needed to make something happen between us, but I wasn’t so sure.
Was he gorgeous? Yes.
But was he intelligent?
Not in the least.
And that really impaired attraction.
Before I could say more, my phone buzzed. Even with the unidentified number, it still looked more appealing than Jax.
Excusing myself, I made my way to the exit. When I was almost at the door, I answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Yes, hello. I’m trying to reach Miss Michaela Caldwell.”
I tried to place the accent. Something European, but not quite British. Curious, I stayed on the line.
“You have her. Who’s this?” To hear him better over the noise of the crowd, I pressed my palm against my ear.
“It’s been a while, but I suppose I was hoping you’d recognize my voice.”
“Hold on,” I had to shout over the music, “I need to go outside. I can’t hear you.” The chill smacked me in the face the second I crossed the through the doorway. I flinched and pulled my jacket tighter as I moved beyond the inflatable Christmas tree that Murphy’s had set up. “I’m sorry. Who did you say you were?”
“It’s me,” he tried again. “It’s um… it’s Fitz, Coco.”
I stopped, too stunned to even breathe. This couldn’t be real.
Fitz never called. He only ever wrote letters. Not even emails. I’d always figured he didn’t have internet access in Nolcovia.
Someone was pranking me.
“I’m supposed to believe that you’re calling out of the blue?” To keep warm from the chill of the night, I bounced on my toes. “You haven’t called in over a decade, but tonight you suddenly want to talk?”
“Um, well, yes, I suppose that’s true.”
I drew in a deep breath and let it out fast. “Tell you what, if you really are Fitz, tell me something only he would know.”
“Oh,” his laughter filled the line, “I don’t think you want to play that game.”
“Oh, no, please. Let’s,” I mimicked his accent. “Because I’m pretty positive—“
