Page 36 of American Royalty

“Will you be staying at Buckingham Palace?”

“Are you going to ask the queen to make you a real duchess?”

With Dani the center of so much attention, the initial scandal hadn’t receded to the background; instead, it had gotten bigger, as fans continued to take sides. But as in a game of telephone, the message had gotten twisted somewhere along the line. People were debating and supporting statements she’d never made!

Samantha Banks wasn’t far behind, tweeting: “Bullying isn’t just an American problem. It’s a whole-world problem. We shouldn’t reward bad behavior. People shouldn’t be taken in by fancy titles. Love you #SparkleSammies!”

Now it was ahashtag?!

The press had salivated over this “new” angle to spice up their almost daily coverage of the celebration. Once again, Banks had managed to insert herself into Dani’s life, and the event she’d once thought might save her with Genesis suddenly seemed like the thing to tank it by taking a small dispute and displaying it on an international stage.

Dani’s nerves had been at the breaking point. When she’d begun losing her cool too often with the paps and posting from her fake IG account, Tasha had deleted the app from her phone—again—and suggested she get away.

“I will. If I can hold on for three more weeks until I leave—”

“Not three weeks. Now.”

“Are you crazy?” Dani said, though she really should’ve been asking herself that question. “I can’t leave now. I have too much to do. We have to work on the performance—”

“You can put on a great performance in your sleep.”

“But this concert—”

“Forget the concert! You’ve got other events to worry about: a formal dinner, several social engagements, the ball.” Tasha ticked them off on her fingers. “Everything you’ve worked for, everything you want, is riding on how you present yourself, and you’re spending time debating with trolls. You’ve got to get with it!”

Thank God what Dani valued most in the people on her team was their competence at their jobs and not their ability to suck up to her and tell her only what she wanted to hear. But knowing Tasha was right didn’t erase her problem.

“Where am I supposed to go? The moon?” Dani threw her arms up. “Social media is everywhere, the press coverage is global...”

“I don’t know. Someplace off the grid. We’ll figure it out. But you can’t stay here in this environment. Blowing up on Twitter or yelling at photographers isn’t a good look.”

A week later, Dani was in London. It wasn’t the moon, and it definitely wasn’t off the grid, but it would still serve her purposes. Everything had been feeling larger than life and out of her control. She needed some time and space to get perspective.

She always stayed at her favorite hotel when she traveled to London and her team had already reserved her suite there for a block of time around the festivities, but she didn’t need the British version of what she’d been dealing with back in the States. She’d secretly planned to lease a house somewhere outside of the city. When Tasha had emailed Louisa Collins, her contact at the palace and the point person for the event, to give her a heads-up that Dani would be in the country early and available if they wanted her to do any promotional pictures or advance press, Louisa had informed them she knew of the perfect accommodations and promised to take care of everything.

“My husband is the stable manager at Primrose Park, one of the royal residences, located in a village outside of London. I checked with him and a cottage on the estate will be available during that time. You can stay there.”

Dani immediately pictured a small, charming bungalow like the one in the Kate Winslet movieThe Holiday. Something cozy and full of character with exposed beams and a fireplace. She’d have time to catch up on the latest season of Nyla’s show and she could finally get her bake on. She might even throw on a disguise and bike out to the village market.

Although... when was the last time she’d ridden a bike?Probably when she was a kid. But how hard could it be? Wasn’t that the whole point of the saying “as easy as riding a bike”?

Or was it a horse?

Either way, if she happened to lose her balance and fall, she could be caught by a tall, dark, sexy villager who came to her aid... and helped her achieve some toe-curling orgasms.

You’re having yourself a How Stella Got Her Back Broke moment, aren’t you?

Why not? If she had to lie low before the festivities, she was determined to put a positive spin on it.

“We’re here, ma’am.”

The driver’s words pulled her from her memories of Cash, Banks, and Tasha, and back to her surroundings. They passed through a guarded, gated entrance and started down a long private road. Several moments later she couldn’t contain the gasp at the sight before her.

Bordered by a lake on one side and tall trees on the other, the “house” consisted of three structures: a large three-story gray stone building flanked by two round single-story wings. Steps led up to a stately double-door entrance that appeared to be guarded by four pillars.

The driver stopped the car next to an ornate fountain in the center of the driveway, where an attractive woman with red hair stood waiting for them.

“Duchess, hello. I’m Louisa Collins, the Royal Household’s senior events coordinator. Welcome to Primrose Park.”