Page 105 of Royal Icing

Robert looked thoughtful. “We’ll have an answer for you by the end of the day. Thank you for coming in, Your Highness.”

Leo shook everyone’s hands. “I really appreciate your time. I look forward to hearing from you.”

With that, he was back out in the blustery cold. He had done all he could.

“So you still don’t know whatyou’re going to do about the ski resort,” Sal said as he poured a glass of beer.

Whiskey swirled dark and warm in his glass. The atmosphere was festive, but his mood was not.

“Emma claims to have a plan.”

Sal slid a Guinness down the bar and turned back to him. “I believe it. She’s a smart girl. So she’s coming in on the first morning train?”

Leo nodded. “You’re sure you don’t mind me staying for a few days? I know it’s a big ask.”

Sal shrugged. “Stay as long as you want. Cal’s chuffed. Make sure you comment on the sheets in the guest bedroom though. He’s been dying for someone to ask what the thread count is.”

“Sheets. Got it.”

His phone beeped, and his heart flew into his throat until he realized it was just a text, not an email.

Emma had sent her flight and train information. The fact that she—and her mom and the two dogs—would soon be here brought some quiet to the storm in his mind.

“Emma?” Sal nodded at Leo’s phone.

Leo nodded.

Sal leaned forward. “When are you going to tell the girl you want a real relationship with her?”

Leo put his glass down for a refill. “What am I supposed to do, hold her hostage? She lives five thousand miles away. Her mom—and her dreams—are in New York.”

Sal poured another finger of amber liquid. “Dreams can change.”

“I’m not going to ask her to compromise the goal she’s been working toward her entire life for some titled idiot she met two weeks ago. I’ve already gotten her fired. I’ve done enough damage.”

“But you still want to,” Sal said with authority. He had always been good at seeing through Leo’s facade.

Leo lowered his voice. Sal had barred a member of the press from coming in earlier, but he couldn’t be too careful. “She shouldn’t have to change anything for me. She deserves to have her dream exactly as she imagined it. I’m not part of the equation.”

“Have you talked to her about this?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then how do you even know what she’s thinking?”

Leo’s phone vibrated, and they both jumped. Not a text. So did that mean?—

He clicked his email app. There it was. A message from Greenfuture Industries. His hands shook as he opened it and read.

“Dear Prince Leo,” he muttered, then skimmed the rest of the text.

He slapped his phone down on the bar and buried his head in his hands.

“Should I put this away?” Sal asked.

Leo opened his eyes to spot a rather expensive-looking bottle of champagne. It mocked him.

“They were generous,” he said carefully, “but it’s only half of what we need. We won’t have an answer on the grants until next year. The project is dead. I’ve failed. Again.”