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course.”
“That’s not true. I told you that you were my best assistant ever.”
“Hmm,” she said. “When is this meeting supposed to take place?”
“Tomorrow,” he said.
Sophie thought about her hair and her wardrobe. She scowled. “How am I supposed to get ready for a meeting with royals in twenty-four hours?”
“It’s not a big deal. Just tea,” he said.
“Tea?” she repeatd. “Do you know what that involves?”
He shrugged. “It can’t be that much of a big deal,” he said.
“Did you promise that I would attend?”
Max almost squirmed. And he never squirmed. “Sure,” he said. “They were pressing and I thought you would like the break.”
“Break?” she said. “Do you really think meeting royalty for tea would be a break?”
“Well, it’s not like keeping the workers in line—”
Sophie lifted her hand to cut him off and shook her head. “Forget it,” she said. “I’m leaving for the day.”
“Now?” he asked, clearly surprised.
“Yes, now,” she said. “I’m meeting royalty tomorrow and I have nothing to wear.”
“But I wanted you to recheck the stats on—”
She shook her head. “Not happening today,” she said as she shut down her laptop. “See you the day after tomorrow.”
Sophie knew she wasn’t just frustrated about meeting the Deveraux family at short notice. She was also crazy out of her head that Max still didn’t see her as a woman, even in such a beautiful and romantic setting. During the last month, she had worked her butt off over twelve hours a day, side by side with Max, but he still hadn’t seemed to notice her.
“Whoa,” Max said.
“Exactly,” she retorted as she headed for the door. “Whoa.”
Sophie slammed the door behind her and headed for her teeny, tiny car. She started the car, put it in gear and took the winding road down the mountain. Despite her impatience with Max, she appreciated the challenge of their project. Once they fixed these roads, everyone in Chantaine could enjoy the north end of the island where the vegetation and birds flourished.
This area almost resembled the jungle while most of the rest of the island featured rocky beaches and green parks. Every day during the last thirty-one days, Sophie had wondered if she should have refused Max’s invitation to join him in Chantaine. She had wanted one last chance with Max, but now she was feeling regrets. Every day of being with him was driving her crazy.
Sophie sucked in a deep breath of the clean island air and sped down the winding road toward town. The drive took nearly an hour, but she was glad to be in the center of Chantaine with its variety of restaurants, entertainment and shopping, even though she rarely took part in what it had to offer.
In contrast, shopping was definitely in her future today. She could not think of one thing in her wardrobe appropriate for a tea. She grabbed a bite to eat then focused on finding a new dress and planned to charge Max for the purchase. He should have given her more notice, the jerk.
After zipping through several stores, she found a blue dress that fit and flattered. The price tag made her wince, but was soon forgotten as she headed to a hair salon. It had been over a month since her curly hair had been shaped.
After her hair appointment, Sophie was exhausted and dragged herself back to her apartment. Washing her face and brushing her teeth, she pulled on a nightgown, cursing Max until she fell asleep.
Sophie slept in the next morning, but when she awakened, she immediately felt panicky. She showered and fussed with her hair and makeup. Too soon, however, her cell rang with the news that a driver would pick her up to bring her to the palace.
Sophie’s stomach dipped again. She tried to recall everything Max had said about his half sisters, the princesses, but it all jumbled with her facts and figures about the road project. She leaned her head against the seat back and tried to relax as the driver took her inside the palace gates.
Seconds later, however, the driver let her out at the palace entrance. A man met her and guided her inside. “Miss Taylor?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he said. “We think so, too. I’ll take you to the room where you will share tea with the princesses of Devereaux.”
“Thank you,” she said, but wasn’t so sure about all this. “So, how do you like living in Chantaine?” she asked nervously.
The man glanced at her. “I like it very much,” he said.
Of course, she thought. What else was he going to say? It sucks dirtwater? She nodded, trying to calm her nerves.
He led her into a beautifully decorated parlor with a table readied for formal tea.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” a man asked from behind her.
Sophie whipped around to face the man at the door. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I’m Sophie. And you are?”
“Walter Deneuve,” the man said. “You looked a bit pale.”
Sophie bit her lip. “I’m a little nervous. I’ve never had tea with a bunch of royals.”
Walter smiled. “The Devereauxes are quite welcoming. I think you’ll enjoy them.”
“Thank you,” she said, but still wasn’t sure. “The pastries look delicious,” she said and wandered around the table.
A half moment later Walter stood at attention, the door opened, and three women entered the room, two of which were waddling in late pregnancy.
“Her Highness, Princess Eve, wife of Crown Prince Stefan,” Walter announced.
Sophie dipped her head.
“Her Highnesses Bridget and Phillipa,” he continued.
“Yes, yes, enough of that,” Eve said in a Texas drawl as she extended her hand. “I’m Eve and at least thirteen months pregnant. Very pleased to meet you. I’m sorry Maxwell didn’t bring you around sooner.”
Sophie smiled and shook Eve’s hand. “Thank you. And I hope your delivery is quick and smooth.”
“Me, too,” Eve said in a grumbly voice.
“I’m Bridget and I’m not pregnant,” the dark-haired woman wearing high heels said cheerfully. “But I’ve also adopted twin toddler boys.”
“You’re brave,” Sophie couldn’t help saying.
Bridget laughed. “I like you already. This is Phillipa, but we call her Pippa. Her delivery date is right behind Eve’s.”
Sophie met the kind gaze of the youngest princess. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope you, too, have a quick and smooth delivery.”
Pippa beamed. “Thank you. I’m hoping for the same.”
“Shall we sit?” Eve asked. “These days, I’m always happy to sit.”
“Of course,” Bridget said and led the way to the table.
Eve glanced at Sophie. “I don’t really like hot tea. Would you like iced tea?”
Sophie felt an easing inside her. “I would love some iced tea.”
Soon enough, sandwiches and pastries were served.
“What is it like working with Maxwell? He seems very intense,” Bridget said, taking a bite of a pastry.
He’s