Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“What do I do with breakfast, Your Highness?” Iskandar asked coldly.
“Throw it out the window! Set it on fire! I no longer care!”
“I think we best avoid any more fire. Ms. Wyntor seems to be at the end of her patience with you—”
I grabbed the couch pillow and threw it at his head. He dodged it and walked to Wolfgang. I laid my head back, and I closed my eyes. I just got here. Give me a damn break!
I stayed there pouting for a few moments before finally sitting my ass back up. Last night, she had warned me this would not be easy. It was not my cause, but I was not giving up. Getting my phone, I searched, What are the most romantic things to do in Seattle?
“Iskandar, what do you think of these?”
“I am not in a place to give you advice,” he said automatically.
I looked up to find Iskandar peering over my hands as he put the breakfast, the tomato cobbler with cornmeal-cheddar biscuits—the meal I had utterly failed to make—down in front of me.
“I am making it your place. What do you think?”
He frowned before replying, “Would it not be better to do something she would enjoy?”
“Would she not enjoy romantic things?” I asked back.
“There is a chance she could have done it already. After all, she has lived here almost all of her life. It would be better to do something she really enjoys and may not mind doing again,” he explained.
He had a point...again.
“Since when did you become an expert in romance?” I snickered, lifting my fork.
“Never, but it seems the expert is off his game if he has to ask for my opinion.”
I cracked my jaw to the side. “The rumors that go around about me seem to be getting out of hand. First, my brother, and now you. I am not that bad.”
He shrugged. “We do not get to choose our nicknames.”
Wait. “What is my nickname?”
“She is a fan of music, correct? Why not see if she will go to some concert with you?” he asked, clearly avoiding my question as he walked back into the kitchen.
Fine.
Whatever.
I let him get back to work and went back to my search. Finding something to do would not be hard. Getting her to agree seemed like a task that was beyond me.
However, I had at least one ally.
Smiling, I began to dial.
It took a few seconds, but she did answer...and did not let me even get a word out. “Let me guess. My amazing daughter is not making it easy for you, is she?”
“I may have screwed up a few things this morning. And I really have no idea how to make it up to her.”
“The key to my daughter’s heart is unbridled honesty. Make her trust you.”
Could she not just tell me what I could buy for her or something?
Chapter 11
“Odette, what are you doing here?” my mother asked, peeking her head around the corner with a spoon hanging from her mouth and a cup of her favorite yogurt in hand.
“Where else I am I supposed to be since you rented out my place to a stranger?” I grumbled, dropping my bag onto the floor and then walking over to the couch where I threw myself. I was suddenly so tired.
“I didn’t rent it,” she said, smacking my feet. “He is your guest.”
“He’s your guest. I didn’t ask for him—”
“What happened? Why are you so angry?”
“He said I was bossy, temperamental, and prone to outburst.” I tried to mock his accent but was unable to get the sound of his words out my head.
“It’s true.”
“Mom!” I yelled, flipping up angrily, facing her as she sat down in her chair and kicked up her feet.
“What? You are!” she shot back. “Look at you, proving him right.”
“Are you sure I wasn’t adopted because you always agree with other people over me.” I frowned, lying back down.
“Very sure. Twenty-seven-plus hours of pushing your big head out isn’t something I would forget.” She snickered.
“I swear you add more hours to your labor every time you tell me that story.”
She huffed and took another mouthful of her yogurt.
“Is there any more?” I asked her.
“You could be having a romantic breakfast with a handsome prince, but you came here to take food from your mother.” She shook her head, frowning more. “Maybe you are adopted because no one with my genes should ever pass up something like that.”
I rolled my eyes, pushing myself up to get something to eat. “Maybe I missed those genes and just got the bossy, temperamental, and prone to outburst ones.”
“Wow, he really got under your skin.” She snickered as I opened the refrigerator.
“Of course, he did. He insulted me!” I said, grabbing the orange juice and bacon.
“Normally, when you are insulted by people, you only get angry in your head for a few seconds, then forget all about it. You never go on complaining about them. It’s twenty minutes from your place to here, and you still haven’t calmed down.”