Slow Tango With a Prince (Royal Scandals) (26 page)

Once inside, Emily called out her return and announced that she had Bob with her. Vittorio muttered behind her, but she held her laughter in check and led him toward the kitchen, where she could hear Maryam and Rita holding an animated discussion. Given that it was the last day of filming and Maryam’s office work was complete, she’d come to the apartment with Rita and they were making the most of the chance to socialize while waiting for the real estate agent’s return.

“There’s no way that’s true!” Maryam sat at the glass-topped kitchen table across from Rita, her back to the entry. “Eleven?”

“I don’t know. Kids experiment. Why not?” Rita glanced up from the magazine that was open in front of her. “Bob, give a guy’s opinion. Average age at first kiss?”

Of all the topics for Rita and Maryam to debate. Emily set the bag of croissants on the counter and looked over her shoulder at Vittorio. Amusement lit his eyes at Rita’s question. “Depends. Are we talking boys or girls? American or worldwide?”

“The article says they polled a thousand American high schoolers,” Rita replied. She swept a hand toward Maryam, who’d twisted in her chair to check out Vittorio. “By the way, this is Maryam. Maryam, meet Bob, our real estate guinea pig.”

“Ah, you must be the woman responsible for saving my feet yesterday.” Vittorio crossed the spacious kitchen to shake Maryam’s hand. “Thank you. I can return the shoes with the shirt tomorrow. I sent the shirt to the cleaners this morning, so—”

Emily couldn’t help but note the attraction flare in Maryam’s eyes as she waved off Vittorio’s offer. “They’re yours to keep. Rita told me the lesson went wonderfully.”

Vittorio made small talk about the tango lesson for a moment, then gestured to the magazine article. “I’d say eleven is young, especially in the United States. But if they’re polling teenagers, none will admit their first kiss came later than they believe their friends had theirs. Boys, especially. They’ll shave a year or two off the truth.”

“Told you,” Rita said to Maryam before pushing back from the table. “Just for that, Bob, I’ll pour you a coffee and make sure you get the biggest, fluffiest croissant in the bag. Have a seat.”

Emily laughed. “I should do a quick walk-through so I’m familiar with the apartment. I assume Ignacio’s checking the lighting in the living room so he can avoid magazine debates?”
 

“The makeup artist is in there, too.” Rita swirled her hand at the shine on Emily’s face. “You’d better take croissants for both of them. She needs to leave in a minute, but she won’t mind pulling out the blotting papers if you pay her off in pastry.”

Emily filled a plate and headed to the living room with Maryam and Rita’s happy voices in her ears. Much as she hated to leave Vittorio behind with them, she counted herself lucky that the conversation focused on croissants instead of first kisses.

* * *

“I swear, the croissants here are the best to be had outside of France. I’m going to miss them when we’re back in New York.”
 

Vittorio forced his attention from Emily’s retreating back as Maryam leaned back in her chair and sighed over the fresh, buttery scent that filled the air. He was tempted to do the same. Even the croissants served at the palace weren’t as airy and melt-in-your mouth as those he’d enjoyed from mom-and-pop bakeries during his time in Buenos Aires.

“On the bright side, it means fewer treadmill miles necessary to keep my incredibly svelte figure.” Rita waggled her eyebrows before she passed a croissant-laden plate to Vittorio, then served Maryam and herself. After a few bites of the decadent pastry, Rita flipped to the front of the magazine she’d been reading and emitted a disdainful snort.

“What?” Maryam asked as she washed down her croissant with a hefty swig of coffee.

“Check it out. Val Dempsey’s at the top of the masthead. No one told me she left
Today’s Royals
. When did that happen?”

“You’re kidding. Let me see.”
 

At Rita’s mention of
Today’s Royals
, Vittorio’s croissant hit his stomach like a rock. He kept his head down and his eyes on his coffee mug as Rita pushed the open magazine across the table to Maryam, who scanned a few pages before pointing to a woman’s photograph.
 

“Recently, judging from the Letter From the Editor that’s under her picture. A highly Photoshopped one, by the way, unless she’s had plastic surgery. Maybe she thought she wouldn’t get the top job at
Today’s Royals
and jumped ship?”

“Or she ran out of colleagues to torture and needed a fresh batch.” Rita took the magazine back from Maryam and read the Letter from the Editor, grumbling in disgust as she finished. “Guess if we get cancelled, I know where I’m not going to apply.”

“Bitch on wheels,” Maryam said to Vittorio, by way of explanation.

“Yes, I gathered she isn’t your favorite person.” It was as diplomatic a comment as he could muster. The fact these two women knew someone who worked at a very popular royalty gossip magazine—one that speculated endlessly about his family—set him on edge.
 

“Rita and Emily used to work with her,” Maryam continued. “I ran into her at professional functions and that was more than enough for me to know to steer clear. Being ambitious is a good thing, but being ambitious to the point that you’ll step on anyone you perceive to be a threat is not. And that was Valerie Dempsey all the way.”

“I only worked with her for six months,” Rita said, making no effort to hide her dismal opinion of the woman. “Emily, on the other hand, was stuck with her for over two years before she left. Maryam and I were hoping Emily would outlast Valerie or at least get promoted above her. Em did such a wonderful job for the magazine.”

Years of socializing at high profile events made it easy enough for Vittorio to keep a placid expression in place no matter the nature of the discussion taking place around him. However, he couldn’t stop the sickening hole that formed in his stomach, rotting him from the inside as if he were on his fifth cup of coffee rather than his first. “Emily worked for
Today’s Royals
?”
 
When she’d told him she’d once worked for a magazine, he hadn’t equated that with a tabloid.
 

He’d also assumed the job she’d quit—the job she’d told him she loved—was in television. But perhaps not.

“It’s where we met,” Rita explained. “We really hit it off, even though I wasn’t there very long after Emily started. I went from a management position at
Today’s Royals
to one with a television production company. I learned a lot in the time I was there. A few months after Emily left the magazine, she came to me with the idea for
At Home Abroad
. I knew the minute she told me about it that we’d be able to make it work. We put together a pitch, and voila” —she swooped a hand through the air— “now we’re both in television.”

Maryam grinned over her coffee. “When Rita and Emily got the order from the network for a full season of the show, Valerie was the first to predict its failure. Said very publicly at a magazine industry networking event that Emily didn’t have the backbone necessary to manage either the staff or the logistics involved for an hour-long show that would be shot outside the country, let alone the talent to appear on air.” Maryam made a show of rolling her eyes. “Silly me, that’s the very moment I told Valerie I’d decided to go to work for Emily and Rita and that I couldn’t be happier.”

“You actually said that?” Rita guffawed. “Wish I’d been there to hear it. I have to say, Valerie is a talented magazine editor, which is why she’s lasted so long, but when it comes to recognizing talent in her coworkers she’s a few tacos short of a combo plate. Anyone with half a brain would’ve fought to keep Emily at
Today’s Royals
instead of letting her quit.”

“Or letting you go to the production company.”
 

Rita raised her coffee mug to that.

Vittorio, on the other hand, could only process the word
quit
. The job at
Today’s Royals
had to be the same one she’d waxed poetic about the night before. “Did Emily like working there?”

“Loved it,” Rita and Maryam said together, then grinned when they realized what they’d each done. Rita continued, “She traveled to Europe all the time. Covered royal weddings in Luxembourg and the Netherlands, and spent over a month in Sweden reporting on the trial of a cousin to the royal family. She always found the best material, the behind-the-scenes stories that weren’t being reported in other magazines and moved tons of copies.”

“I had no idea.” Behind-the-scenes meant private, invasive. The type of personal information that, once released, could irreparably damage both an individual and a monarchy. In other words, information like he’d shared with her last night about Carmella.
 

And Emily had loved it
.
 

As Vittorio pushed away his half-eaten pastry, Rita’s smiled broadened. “I told her not to quit, but all that travel is what gave her the idea for
At Home Abroad
.”

“Lucky for us,” Maryam said.
 

Again, Rita raised her mug. Conversation then turned to the outdoor orchestra performance Rita had attended the previous night. Vittorio made all the expected comments, but a mix of sadness and foreboding enveloped him. No wonder Emily kept looking at him as if she recognized him. Sooner or later, she’d make the connection, beard or not. He might not be familiar to most Americans, but given her line of work she’d have heard of him and his family. And if she didn’t make the connection, Rita or Maryam eventually might. And what then?
 

If Emily wanted to save
At Home Abroad
, she had only to do same thing she’d done to sell copies of magazines: pack her show with behind-the-scenes info, the private, salacious material his own family didn’t know. Last night, while he’d held her in his arms, he’d served it to her on a silver platter.

It wouldn’t just save her show. It’d make her career.

Chapter Eighteen

Emily had to give Monica, the real estate agent, a great deal of credit. After racing back to her office, calling in building maintenance and a plumber to repair a burst pipe, then salvaging what she could from her waterlogged desk, Monica made it back to the Barrio Norte apartment a mere half-hour after Vittorio arrived. Not only had she kept the show close to schedule, her presentation of the spacious apartment and its amenities was flawless. She hit all the essentials, spoke in a camera-perfect pitch, and took extra care to note the features that matched Vittorio’s wish list.

If only Vittorio noticed.

Monica stood beside the master bedroom’s expansive windows to demonstrate the room’s honeycomb shades, which featured a technology that allowed them to be angled one direction to filter the light while maintaining the view and another direction to completely darken the room, all at the push of a button. Monica’s encouraging smile lit the room almost as well as the midday sunshine, but Vittorio only managed a polite nod before testing the shades himself.

“How about we see the master bath?” Emily gestured toward the en suite bathroom, which boasted every feature Vittorio could possibly want. Elegant, soft green glass tiles lined the walls while cream-colored tile cut to mimic the appearance of antiqued white wood covered the floor. A glass-encased shower with multiple sprays lined one wall and twin sinks with ample counter space and sleek mirrors lined the opposite side. A Japanese soaking tub situated under a high, round window dominated the space at the far end of the room. Dimmable recessed lighting and a massive sand-toned urn filled with leafy bamboo added to the room’s calm atmosphere.

“What do you think? Will it suit your needs?”

“Other than the fact it’s missing a toilet, yes.” Vittorio shot Monica a teasing grin, but Emily noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
 

“Over here.” Monica moved past the shower to open a sliding door, revealing a private space containing both a toilet and bidet.
 

“Impressive.”
 

“Nothing’s been overlooked. Imagine you’re caught in the rain and you arrive home with damp clothes.” She gestured to a chrome heated towel rack situated on the wall near the shower. “Hang them here while you warm up in the shower. When you’re finished, you’ll have a nicely heated towel and dry clothes, too.”

Emily made a few closing comments before Rita signaled a cut, allowing everyone to transition back to the living room. “Great job, Emily and Monica. This is going to show wonderfully. Is there anything we missed, Bob?”

“I don’t believe so,” Vittorio answered. “Monica’s been both concise and thorough.”

“Perfect. Let’s take a five-minute break, then we’ll go again.” Rita eyed the living room, making sure everything looked good for the second take, then pulled Ignacio aside to discuss the segment while Monica retreated to the foyer to make a quick call to her office.

Vittorio started toward the kitchen, but Emily put a hand on his arm, discreetly guiding him to the far side of the living room, out of earshot of Rita and Ignacio. “Hey, is something wrong?”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “No. Why?”

“You seem off.”

“Well, I did have a late night.”
 

The lack of flirtation in his voice sent worry snaking along her spine. Worse, his delivery was cold, as if she’d offended him in some way. “Vittorio?”