London Falling (24 page)

While Simon told the sanitized version of the situation, Aimee busied herself making coffee and toast and did a very poor job of pretending not to listen.

“You mean to tell me that this woman is working here without a work permit? Have you lost your mind?” His father turned to Aimee. “How much will it take to get you to leave?” He opened up his wallet and started pulling out fifty quid notes.

Just what he needed–his father to come in and clean up the situation.

But the man wasn’t thinking straight.

“You can’t give her any money,” Simon said. “If you give her money, it will be construed as proof of payment for the cleaning she has done.” And she’d leave before he had a chance for a do-over.

“What about the princes’ business?” his father bit out. “What if they find out you have an illegal working for you?”

“They aren’t going to find out,” Simon said. “And she’s not working for me.”

“You trust this random person who shows up at your door more than you value your future at the bank?”

Simon cringed. He knew his father was going to react this way, thinking the worst of him, and now he wanted Simon to throw Aimee out on the street as proof that he could handle the bank. Her face was perfectly calm and unemotional, but her hands were turning white where she gripped the counter. And she wouldn’t look him in the eye. No way could he throw her out, not after last night. Somehow, he had to convince his father that he was in control of the situation.

“I trust Aimee,” Simon said. “I’d trust her with my life.”

“But–”

“I know her. You don’t.” Simon glanced at Aimee to gauge her reaction.

She stared at him with her brows crinkled and eyes narrowed, like she couldn’t remotely figure out why he was defending her.

His father shook his head. “I think you’ve let a pretty face get in the way of your intellect, once again. Smart leaders learn from their mistakes.”

“Like you?” Simon couldn’t help pointing out.

“At least I learned my lesson. If you’re planning to run the bank this way maybe I should sell everything to the Royal Bank of Britain.”

The floor dropped out of Simon’s stomach. He couldn’t have heard right “What?” he managed to ask.

“I came round to tell you that I received an offer from RBB. And I’m considering it.”

Chapter Eleven

Simon’s world turned upside down. He had to sit down and gain some semblance of reality, because this was surely a nightmare. His father was considering selling the bank? To RBB? “Are you joking?”

“I would prefer to speak to you in private,” his father said, before turning to glare at Aimee.

Aimee’s eyes were even wider with concern. Simon’s stomach turned.

Everything had gone pear-shaped this morning, and now he had to ask Aimee to leave when all he wanted to do was the exact opposite. But Aimee nodded in response to his father’s dictum, picked up Cupcake, and left the room.

His father waited until she was gone before continuing. “If you had been at work last night, you would have been able to hear the offer first hand.”

Simon raked his hand through his hair. He’d left early last night to find Aimee. Was he going to lose the best part of his life because of it? The bank was everything. He’d put his whole life into it, waiting for the day it would finally become his and he’d never have to worry about someone else bringing it to bankruptcy. He’d be damned if his father sold it out from under him.

“I hope you told them to bugger off.” Why would they make an offer now, anyway? Unless…. “We must be closer to getting the royals’ business than we thought. Why else would they offer to buy us before the announcement? Our value will go up drastically if we get the business.”

“Why did they offer a 10% premium then?” His father gave him a smug smile.

“Because our value will go up even higher than that if we get the business. They must know something we don’t know.” He needed to get to work and focus the team, because he might still pull this out.

“It’s an open ended deal, Simon, whether we get the business or not. I’ve got until next month to make a decision.”

Something was wrong. They never seriously entertained offers from other banks, because they both knew Simon was more than capable of running the bank after his father retired. He focused on his father’s words.

“What do you mean, ‘I’?”

His father stepped towards him. “Exactly that. It’s my bank. And despite the fact that you think you run it, it will remain my bank until the day I die.”

Simon shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. Not to him. His father wouldn’t sell the bank out from underneath him. It was his inheritance, just as it was his father’s before him. Simon had put his soul into the bank. Given up his social life. He was the reason they pulled out of financial difficulty after his father’s mistake. Didn’t that count for something?

“The board won’t allow this.”

“It doesn’t matter what the board thinks. I am still the majority owner.

Besides, with your recent behavior, I’m sure the board wouldn’t need any convincing.”

“What does that mean?” Simon bit out the question.

“Why don’t we ask your houseguest?”

Simon clenched his fists. He’d trusted his father. He was the one person who was supposed to be on his side and who wanted to win the royals’

business even more than Simon did. And now he was throwing Aimee back in his face! It didn’t make sense that his father would do this.

“This is not Aimee’s fault.”

“No. She’s merely an opportunist taking advantage of your poor judgment.” His father stepped closer to Simon. His eyes bored into Simon’s with a seriousness that took him aback. “If you don’t get the royals’ business, you can be certain I will sell. It’s up to you.”

And then his father turned and stalked out. Simon slumped in his chair.

What would he do without the bank? His whole life wasted in pursuit of something that was going to be sold out from underneath him, for reasons he didn’t even understand. He was nothing without the bank!

His father had threatened to cut Simon out before, but neither one of them ever took his threats seriously. Something was different this time. Ever since Aimee had shown up in his life, his world had spiraled out of control.

He was losing his focus, and his father’s respect, if he’d ever even had it.

He slammed his hand onto the marble counter, ignoring the reverberating sting through his bones. He wouldn’t lose the bank. He had a 50-50 shot at the royals’ business. And nothing was going to stand in his way.

No more distractions. Including Aimee.

It was time to get down to business.

Aimee raced up the street, the bag of flour and sugar banging against her leg. She’d been distracted all day, which resulted in one burned batch of cupcakes and forgetting the dog outside for an hour in the cold. She felt like a dog abuser, although Cupcake seemed fine when she let him in.

It was all Simon’s fault. She couldn’t stop thinking about last night. She was beyond humiliated. Not only had she proven how inept and utterly inexperienced she was with him, but his aunt had to catch her sneaking down the stairs with her underwear in her hand! Adding insult to injury, his dad thought she was some slut out to ruin his son. Nothing could have been further from the truth!

She had to get out of here as soon as possible, because she couldn’t stand seeing Simon again. Because even worse than the humiliation was the fact that she was genuinely starting to like him. She kept picturing him last night helping her sell cupcakes, with his face red from the wind, and a secret grin on his face whenever he helped her sell an extra cupcake or two.

And this morning, he had defended her in front of his dad. She’d wanted to cry when he said he trusted her. Although, if she had his dad, she’d be doing everything she could to piss him off. She used to spin a thousand daydreams about her own dad, but never did she picture someone like Simon’s dad who acted like a Lord entering the home of his serfs. He hadn’t even greeted Simon with a handshake, let alone a hug or any sort of warmth.

Was that the British aloofness or something else? The look on Simon’s face when his dad announced that he was thinking about selling the bank made her want to kick his dad in the gut. And then wrap her arms around Simon and tell him everything was going to be okay.

But Simon would just brush her off, especially after his dad announced he was thinking about selling the bank. To someone with Simon’s drive, that would be a call to action–he wouldn’t rest until he delivered the princes’

business to his father and guaranteed his succession at the bank. And she was a distraction. He would want her gone, especially after last night.

Aimee glanced up and down the street. The private detective didn’t seem to be anywhere, which meant that Simon probably wasn’t back from work yet. Thank God. She wanted to be out of there before he came home tonight.

However, someone was standing on the steps to the front door. A tall, dark-haired man peered in the window beside the front door. Another private detective? Aimee slowed her steps. The man checked out the door handle and then peered down into the servant’s entrance next to the front steps. She hurried to the bottom of the steps.

She schooled her voice into a stern tone. “Can I help you?”

“Do you work here?” he asked.

Was that a trick question? Why would he ask if she worked there and not if she lived there? “I’m a guest.”

He narrowed his eyes. Aimee got the impression that he was sizing her up. “I’m Alistair Sharpe with RDPD. I’m here to make sure everything is set for the event tomorrow evening. I’m expected.”

That’s right. Lucy said the caterer was coming by to check out the facilities. Aimee smiled. “Sorry. I saw you looking in the window and thought you were casing the joint.”

He frowned at her. It was probably not a good idea to insult the caterer.

She walked past him, opened the door and turned off the alarm. “I didn’t introduce myself properly.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Aimee Kennedy.”

He didn’t return her handshake, just nodded. Boy, these brits were real friendly, weren’t they?

“So you said you don’t work here?” he asked. “Are there any employees?”

“Nope. I’m on vacation. I know Simon’s brother. Blake. Blake is out of town, but he said I could stay here with Simon. I definitely don’t work here, and there are no other employees. Can’t even help out, ‘cause I don’t have a work permit.”

The guy narrowed his eyes. She was babbling way too much. She needed to get her story straight. Hadn’t she heard that people who lie are always caught because they talk too much?

“How many floors?” he asked. “Entrances? Where will the event be held?”

No wonder this caterer had trouble getting business. Her employees didn’t exactly exude personality. “Four floors plus an attic.” Although why he needed to know that was beyond her. “Just two–no, three entrances. The front door, the servant’s entrance downstairs, and the French doors in the living room which is where I think the event will be. You should confirm with Lucy, though.”

He nodded. “Will you be here tomorrow evening?”

She was supposed to go to Lucy’s that night after the event, but she wanted to sell cupcakes before that. “Nope.”

“Good. We need to check you out if you’re going to be attending.”

Check her out for what? Something was weird about this guy. She was glad she wasn’t going to be here for the event if he were going to be around.

“Okay then. Well, the kitchen is downstairs.”

He followed her downstairs, pulled out a notebook and started taking notes. “Are the fairy cakes for the event?”

“No. I’m just making them as a thank-you to Simon for letting me stay here.” She supposed she should have offered him one, but his attitude was annoying her. She’d sell him one, but she didn’t think Simon would appreciate her selling a cupcake illegally in her house, especially when she’d just admitted that she didn’t have a work permit.

“Where is the entrance?”

Aimee pointed to the hall on the other side of the kitchen. He followed her direction, and she pulled the flour and sugar out of the plastic bags. She had just pulled out a clean mixing bowl and measuring cups when she heard Cupcake come skittering down the hall and into the kitchen. Cupcake had been shut in her room while she was gone. Which meant that guy had gone into her room! Enough was enough.

She stomped down the hall toward her room. Alistair stood next to her bed, her passport in his hand while he copied something down from it. “What do you think you are doing?”

He looked up, but didn’t even blink at being caught in her room invading her privacy. “I’m copying your passport information. Just as a precaution.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I already told you that I don’t have a work permit. So I can’t help you, no matter how desperate you are.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and he laughed. He actually laughed at her. “I think we can manage without your help.” He closed her passport and handed it back to her. “I’ll check out the rest of the building and then be on my way. We’ll do an additional check tomorrow before the event and station several officers around the perimeter.” He turned to walk out of her room.

“Officers?” she gulped. “You’re not with the caterer?”

He stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face her. “A caterer?

You thought I was a caterer?” He seemed to grow six inches in a millisecond.

“I am a Royalty Protection Group Officer.”

Aimee’s heart dropped in her chest. Oh. Dear. God. “Royalty?”

He peered down his nose at her. “The Royal Protection Squad provides 24–hour close protection for members of the royal family.” He stalked out of the room, but not before she heard him mutter, “Americans.”

Aimee sank down on the bed. Someone from the royal family was going to be in Simon’s house. Tomorrow night. She stared at the indentation Cupcake had left on her bed while she was gone. No wonder Simon was so freaked out about hiring an illegal. If someone found out about her, the scandal would drag Simon down.