Going Royal 01 - Some Like It Royal (3 page)

Chapter Three

Livid, Alyx stormed down the steps, stage right. Everything about the audition had seemed a bit odd, from the part advertised, to just how closely the description fit her. But she’d hoped—really, prayed—that this would be the breakout part for her. Even if it wasn’t, stage time could be invaluable and give her weeks of developing a rapport with an audience.

Still, warning bells rang when she’d arrived and found no one else prepping to audition. The red-alert klaxon went off when she memorized the lines they wanted her to perform for the cold reading. A princess, found again, making a splashy entrance to society via a masquerade ball.

The stage lights hid Daniel from her, but as her eyes adjusted and he leaned forward, she knew the man’s silhouette belonged to the idiot knocking on her car window. How she made it down the stairs without tripping in the uncomfortable heels, she didn’t know, but she strode up the aisle toward him on a wave of righteous fury and indignation.

“Miss Dagmar, before you tear into me—as you have every right to do—let me tell you that you were absolutely magnificent. You wear the role of princess like you were born to it.” His compliments failed to dull the rage boiling in her belly.

“How dare you?” She paused to gather her breath and shook with the outrage coursing in her veins. “How dare you play a game with my career? I took time off from my
job
to come down here and perform a farce.”

“Actually, you took time off to answer an audition call. I didn’t twist your arm. I made that listing very specific and you are perfect for the part.” He met her ire with utter calmness.

It only served to infuriate her more.

“There is no part, is there?”
Dammit
. She’d needed tonight’s tips for the immersion class. Now she would have to reschedule because she wouldn’t have enough by Friday.
Stupid.
Stupid.
Stupid
. She should have trusted her instincts, but the part sounded wonderful and she couldn’t wait to wear the clothes and transform herself.

All for a lie.

“There is a part. The same part I told you about.” Wow, the man just did not give up. “A part you were
born
to play.”

Bowing her head and hands on her hips, she fought to get her breathing and temper under control. To her horror, tears actually burned in her eyes and she blinked furiously to keep them back. She would not break down in front of the hunk with the crackpot offer. “I told you no. I said thanks, but no thanks. What part of that answer are you having trouble with?”

“All of it.” He shifted, leaning a hip against an aisle chair and releasing her from the tension of his nearness. A tension she’d failed to notice until he gave her the space to breathe. “Alyx, I can make things happen in your world. I can change it and you can change mine. It’s an equitable deal.”

“I don’t know you and so far, what I’ve learned hasn’t impressed me.”
Liar.
The advertisement for the audition was an act of pure genius. Despite her anger, she couldn’t help but be flattered.

“Then get to know me. Meet my attorney. Look at my bank statements. Come to my office. I am exactly who I say I am and I
need
your help for exactly the reasons I’ve described.” He leaned forward, the darkness of the theater framing his earnest expression. “You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

“Why?”
Why am I not just walking away from this guy?
Why do his eyes seem to say he is telling the truth?
She didn’t have answers to her own questions, much less why he wanted
her.

“Because you
are
a princess. If you need proof, I have that too.”

Need proof?
Yeah, she needed proof.

Was she actually considering doing this? She rubbed a hand against her cheek, turning to look across the empty seats. Leaving seemed the safest bet, but the lengths he went to just to get her in this theater...

“Alyx. You live out of your car. I hate that. If nothing else, let me pay you for the time it takes to consider the idea. Enough to get you a place to live.” Contrition and hope struggled in those sentences and she forgave him for the deception. Maybe just a little bit.

“What’s the name of your attorney?”

He straightened, a smile flaring briefly to life on his lips. “Martin Grange. He’s a partner at Grange, Dubbin and Grange. His number is—”

“Stop.” She held up a hand. “I’ll get the number. You stay here.” With as much grace as she could muster, she spun on a heel and strode to the stage, up the steps and through the wings to the dressing room where she’d left her phone. She glanced back—checking his location twice. Daniel stayed right where she bid him.

She dialed information and requested a number for the law firm. Waiting to be connected, she glanced at herself in the mirror and shook her head. “Dreamer.”

“Grange, Dubbin and Grange. How may I direct your call?”

“Martin Grange, please.” She slipped off the heels and put the cell phone on speaker while the receptionist transferred her.

Another woman came on the line. “Martin Grange’s office.”

“Yes, I would like to speak to Mr. Grange. My name is Alyx Dagmar.” She unzipped the dress and stripped it off—trading the expensive costume for capris and a clean tank top. She’d stopped at the fitness club next to the restaurant that morning. A regular customer managed the location and let her use the showers for free when they weren’t crowded.

“May I tell him what this is in regards to?”

“Daniel Voldakov.”
Voldakov.
It sounded Russian. The name, not the man. Perching on the edge of a chair, she pulled on her sandals and fastened the straps.

“This is Martin Grange.” A question hung suspended amid the statement.

Alyx picked up the phone and thumbed off the speaker before putting it to her ear. “Mr. Grange, my name is Alyx Dagmar. I wanted to ask you some questions about Daniel Voldakov.”

“All right.” The attorney kept his tone neutral, but wary.

“First, is he your client?” She dragged her purse over and fished past the pepper spray for lip gloss.

“Yes, I represent Mr. Voldakov. If you are planning a nuisance suit, I can assure you that won’t be necessary. We can settle this amicably.” The man sounded aggrieved.

“I’m not planning anything at the moment. Would you describe Mr. Voldakov to me?” She didn’t bother to disguise the bite in her tone. He’d already admitted to representing her blond stalker. Applying the gloss, she checked her teeth and studied her appearance. She didn’t wear much makeup to conserve her supplies. It rankled that she wasted some for this fake audition.

“Mr. Voldakov is about six foot one, blond hair, blue eyes. He has a small circular scar at the corner of his right eye. Is he there currently?”

Heh.
Looks like his attorney isn’t thrilled with him either.

“He’s in the theater.” She zipped up the purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Does Mr. Voldakov actually own a software company?”

“He does. Spherecast Technologies.”

“And he’s raking in the bucks stateside but can’t make it in the European market?” She followed the hallway to backstage and through a side door into the audience. Daniel stood exactly where she’d left him, arms folded across his broad chest. The frown wrinkling his brow smoothed when she appeared.

“I’m not comfortable discussing Mr. Voldakov’s finances with you, Miss Dagmar.”

“Fair enough. Are you aware of the proposal he made to me?” She walked up the aisle, aware that Daniel could hear her. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“I am. I apologize for his enthusiasm, but he genuinely means well.”

“Does he? And this investigation he did into my background, did he go through your office?” She stood in front of Daniel, meeting his gaze defiantly.

“Again I’m going to have to decline to discuss Mr. Voldakov’s private affairs with you.”

The corner of her mouth quirked. The attorney’s annoyance had focused on her instead of his client. She put him on speaker and held the phone out so Daniel could hear. “I’m with Mr. Voldakov now, Mr. Grange.”

“Daniel?”

“I’m here. Tell the lady whatever she needs to know.”

“I think we should discuss this further. Why don’t we make an appointment?” The poor man really did not care for being put on the spot, but she kept her gaze firmly on Daniel, looking for any sign of deception or avoidance.

“No. Just answer her questions.”
Point to Daniel.

“Very well. Yes, Mr. Voldakov’s company is facing stress from competitors to access the right permits and licenses to sell in the European Union.” Nope, the attorney wasn’t one little bit happy.

“Is it because of the product or is he trying to shortcut his way through regulations?” She lifted her eyebrows as Daniel cocked his head, a mild look of incredulity on his face. Yes, she did have an education and wasn’t afraid to use it.

“Regulations aren’t the issue. Approval from the conglomerates that control the regulatory bodies are. They negotiate on a social and economic basis. We have no problems meeting the technical specifications or economic necessities.”

A ghost of a smile flirted on Daniel’s lips. The attorney confirmed his earlier story about needing social access.

“And if he is engaged to a princess?” The question just didn’t taste right, but she forced it out anyway.

“Then, yes, we would have social capital to negotiate with.” She and the attorney were on the same wavelength. He sounded less enthusiastic about the idea than she.

“Thank you, Mr. Grange.”

“Miss Dagmar. Daniel, I’ll be calling you shortly.” The attorney hung up and Alyx laughed.

“I think he’s mad at you.” She pocketed the phone.

“Probably. I make his life hell some days. Do you believe me?” He’d uncrossed his arms while she talked to Martin and tucked his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. If not for the expensive shirt and equally expensive shoes, he looked like a man ready to take a walk on a sandy beach.

“Honestly? I don’t know. It still sounds ridiculous. You have no idea what kind of a person I am and I haven’t any idea what kind of a person you are other than you make outlandish offers and go to some extreme lengths to have your case heard.” Which was a little bit romantic, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. Adjusting the grip on her purse, she shrugged. “And even if I believed you and your intentions, this is all based on the supposition that I’m actually a princess. Which I’m not. I don’t care what your proof says I am...” She spread her hands out, the last line a lie, but he didn’t need to know it. “I don’t know how to be one. I grew up in Sonoma and Sacramento. I went to public school. I lived in foster homes. I can make a mean burger and memorize a hundred-item menu, but those aren’t exactly princess-level skills.”

“You can learn to be a princess. You can learn the walk, the talk and the manners. You’re the
lost
princess, after all. No one will expect you be perfect. That’s all window dressing, anyway. We can’t manufacture a lineage. But
you
have that.”

However impossible, it didn’t sound improbable. She leaned back against a seat and folded her arms. “How long?”

He didn’t quite grin. “At least six months, a year would be better. Engagements take a lot of time and we’ll both need time to learn how to act and to get our manners and mannerisms down.”

A
year.

She rubbed her forehead. A year was a hell of a long time. That was a lot of classes to miss and her job...

“I can pay you for every hour of every day you spend on this. You’re going to help me secure a multi-billion-dollar deal. You’re going to get a publicity blitz like you’ve never experienced, and name recognition. That’s golden capital in the acting world. Consider for a moment that you’ll have front-page access, network news—domestic and international. You can’t buy the kind of stardom this will net for you.” He ticked off the items on his fingers. “You can have all of that, secure your future acting career. Name your price, it’s yours.”

“That’s awfully blasé and open ended. I need to think about the money, and the time, and we’re going to need a legally binding contract—one that draws it all out in black and white.” Anticipation thrummed through her at the mention of name recognition. He wasn’t wrong. She didn’t merit a blip on the radar yet, just another pretty face with a too-thin resume and a lot of audition experience.

“Anything.” His grin grew. “We can go see Martin right now and start hammering out the deal.”

“I need a few days to wrap my mind around this.”
And to talk myself out of this.
Is his madness contagious?
“I also want to see this proof you have about my family.”

“I’ll bring it to the restaurant. But a few days? You’re still going to be in your car.” His brow crinkled. “Why don’t I set you up at the Beverly Hills Hilton? It’s not far from the restaurant. You can have the time and the security to review everything.”

“The car thing really bothers you, doesn’t it?” She didn’t get it. They were strangers. So what if she slept in her car?

“A lady shouldn’t have to sleep in her car.”

“I’ll be fine. Just drop the folder off at the restaurant and I’ll pick it up. I can call you in a few days.”
Maybe by then I’ll have located my sanity again.

“Can I buy you dinner? Coffee? I’ll book the room at the Hilton—if you change your mind, just go by and they’ll have a room key for you.” He wasn’t going to let that go.

“Mr. Voldakov, I’m considering your proposal. Maybe I’ll marry you, maybe I won’t. But when a lady says she needs to think about it, piece of advice, let her think.”

He held out his hand. “Three days?”

“Sure, why not.” She huffed a breath and took his hand. Shock raced up her arm and set her pulse tingling. He smiled, squeezing her hand gently, and her heart hitched at the breathtaking grin.

“You won’t regret it. I promise.”

We’ll see about that.

Chapter Four

“Are you seriously considering his offer?” Rhonda sat on the edge of the picnic table bench, a cigarette dangling between two fingers. The restaurant opened in an hour, they were set up and they had some time to kill. Nestled among the trees and bushes, the smoking area was deserted save for the two of them. Alyx didn’t smoke, but she wanted to take advantage of the rare quiet time to chat without interruptions.

“I don’t know.” She sighed. In the two days since the theater fiasco, Daniel, his offer, his blue eyes and what accepting all of the above would be like were the only things she had thought about. As promised, an envelope containing her family research arrived at the restaurant the next day. It sat unopened in her car.

“You
are
considering it.” Standing, Rhonda shook her head, looking around as if to ascertain they were alone, then stared at her. “You don’t know this guy. He could be some kind of crackpot and his attorney an accomplice—if the guy was really an attorney.”

“He was. I went to the library and looked up Martin Grange via the California Bar Association. I found photos and news articles about him. Did the same for Daniel. They’re real. They are who they say they are.” Which made the conundrum muckier than it already was. What the hell did it say about them that they wanted to use fraud—well, not fraud, not if he was right about her. But weren’t they asking for an act? An illusion to make a business deal happen?

“You didn’t meet the attorney, sweetie. You talked to him on the phone.” Her friend grimaced.

“No, I didn’t see him but he was in captioned in a photograph with Daniel last year. The photo matched his bar association page.” Stretching, she paced away from the table and the haze of smoke. Too many possibilities crowded in her mind. Her gut twisted with indecision. She told him no at the parking garage. While the audition didn’t completely reverse her decision, she sat firmly on the fence between the risky promise of the unknown and the less certain success of the road she traveled.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re thinking about—” Rhonda glanced around again, dropping her voice to a whisper, “—getting engaged to a guy you don’t know and walking away from your life to play a part.”

“But isn’t kind of what I always wanted to do? Be an actress, play a role, inhabit the part?”

“On. Stage.” Her friend crushed the cigarette out and snapped her fingers in front of Alyx’s face. “Wake up. This isn’t a part—this is your life.”

We’re going to have to learn the mannerisms and manners
...

I’ll hire someone to teach us how to do it
...

You were born for this part
...

“Rhonda, I’m going to do it.”

The bottle blonde sighed and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “I knew you would. You are the most daring, adventurous, out-of-her-mind person I know. You see something you want, you go after it. You live out of your car, you shower in a gym and you’re still together and on top of things. Me, I do good for the day by day. You? See the mountain, take the mountain.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” She grinned. Rhonda was her oldest friend in Los Angeles and the reason she got the job at the steakhouse in the first place. Rhonda’d tried to talk her into sharing her apartment, but it was too cramped with Rhonda and her boyfriend. She did, however, sublet the guest room closet for her nicer outfits so they didn’t get crumpled in the car.

The older woman took her by the shoulders and stared at her. “You get everything in writing and you get some of that money up front. You also remember you have an out—anything gets hinky, you come straight to me.” Pursing her lips, she shook her head slowly. “I still think you should just say forget it. You have the information. If you want to track down your royal roots, you don’t need this guy.”

“It’s not about that.” And curiously enough, it wasn’t. She’d gotten used to having no family. She’d had sixteen years of getting used to it. Some days, she couldn’t picture what her mom and dad looked like. She remembered how they smelled—her mother’d loved Tabu perfume and her father’d favored Old Spice. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could almost imagine the feeling of their hugs, but that was it. Capturing those elusive moments was one the reasons she liked sleeping in her car. Some her best memories were falling asleep in the backseat on the way back from some adventure while her parents talked in the front seat.

On really bad days, she could close her eyes, hug her bear and soak up that feeling.

“Then why?” Rhonda tilted her head, expression curious and concerned, but lacking judgment. “Why take this kind of leap?”

“Because it’s crazy. It’s—immersion. It’s becoming someone else entirely. If I can do
this
, then I really do have a future in acting. It’s not just some fairytale I dreamed up one night to run away from a foster home.”

“And marrying a guy you don’t know is going to prove that?”

“I’m not actually marrying him.” She went over his request so many times in the past two days she’d memorized it. He wanted an engagement. He wanted a splashy showing. He didn’t say they had to go through with it. Catching Rhonda close in a quick hug, she grinned. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure I have the parachute on before I jump.”

After Rhonda went inside, she pulled out her cell and the crinkled business card. She weighed the decision for another minute before dialing the number. To her surprise, Daniel answered the phone directly.

“Okay,” she committed. “I’m in.”

* * *

Daniel controlled the urge to fidget as she read through the papers. Martin stood in the center of the salon-style room with Daniel perched on the edge of a chair while she sat on the sofa opposite.

She took her time scanning the contract, reading each page—sometimes twice. Occasionally she circled something, the faint crinkle of the paper and the scritch of the pen the only sounds in the room. On the last page was the amount he’d told Martin to write in. He already had a check drawn.

“No.” Alyx shook her head, jerking her attention from the paper.

“It’s a more than equitable amount.” Martin intervened before Daniel could answer.

“It’s five million dollars. That’s way too much.” She leaned back, the papers a neat stack on her lap.

Daniel glanced at his attorney and saw a perplexed expression that mirrored his own confusion. They’d expected she might ask for more, but less?

“I’m asking you to commit to this project twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for a year. I don’t think five million is too much for that kind of investment.” He kept his voice calm, but he couldn’t keep the question out of it.

“It’s too much. Look, I work six nights a week at the steakhouse. I make about two hundred a day, average. Some days are better, some are worse, but six days a week for fifty two weeks is sixty-two thousand four hundred dollars, after taxes. Five million is way too much.”

“You want us to
reduce
the amount of payment?” Martin folded his arms, his frown turning speculative.

“Yes. I also want half up front. In addition I want you to set up a scholarship fund for foster kids in California—discretionary aid to help them pay for college. If you want to invest five million, then take—I don’t know—set one million aside for me and put the rest in the scholarship fund.” She tapped the paper. “I also want an open-ended round-trip ticket to anywhere in the world, dated for one year from today. And an apartment. In my name—here in the city, and I’m the only one with keys to it.”

Clasping his hands together, Daniel leaned forward. “Alyx, the scholarship fund isn’t a problem.” Martin cleared his throat, but Daniel ignored him. “But I think you should take more than just a million. I get that you think it’s too much, but realistically—a million goes fast. What about the rest of your life?”

She shrugged. “What about it? I don’t have a house. If you pay off an apartment for me—it’s a done deal, no mortgage payments. I’m not going to have that job anymore and I’m assuming you’re going to feed me—that won’t be an expense. I can put the half you pay me up front in the bank, it can collect interest and one year from today I collect the other half and I can get on a plane and go anywhere I want.”

“And you’re willing to sign a waiver to relieve Mr. Voldakov of any other financial remuneration associated with this year?” His attorney studied her, seeming as uncertain as Daniel was of her counteroffer.

“Yes. He’s paying for whatever lessons, clothes—” she flipped through the pages, “—travel and anything else required to deliver on the idea that I am a princess. I won’t have to spend anything. Maybe we can add a caveat that I keep the clothes—Oh, and no sex. I’m an actress, not a prostitute. I want that in the contract.”

The hard look on her face surprised the hell out of him. She’d made a similar statement in one of their earlier meetings, but it hadn’t occurred to him to add a sex clause and his body tightened in rebellion of the idea. Sex wasn’t a requirement, but he hadn’t dismissed the idea entirely.

“I don’t think that will be a problem.” Of course Martin didn’t think it would be a problem. He wasn’t the one signing the agreement.

“And that’s it? Those are your only stipulations?”

“Pretty much.” She nodded. “We’re not actually getting married. The legal right to my name remains mine. And your property remains yours. I’ll leave this charade with the experience, the clothes, the scholarship funds, the plane ticket and the check. That’s all I want.”

“You realize you’re not stipulating any of the jewelry, including the engagement ring?” He ignored Martin’s huff of annoyance, because no matter what she thought or his attorney believed, a year of her life was worth a lot more than she realized.

“Engagement ring?” Her eyebrows climbed in surprise.

“You didn’t think you would get one? I’m asking a princess to marry me. I’m thinking that calls for something fairly fat and definitely diamond.” A solitaire would be the perfect type of elegant—not that he knew much about jewelry.

“I think I’m good. It’s a symbol of our arrangement, not any real feelings.” The casual ease with which she dismissed the ring irked him, but he didn’t look too closely at that.

“Fine. Martin, I need you to amend the contract to reflect Alyx’s requirements. She agrees to study everything she needs to know about being a princess, will maintain the role full-time with no asides for auditions or a return to the life beyond what we construct. When we’re in public, we’re a loving couple. We have fun, we smile and we stare longingly into each other’s eyes. Anytime we’re in the house and the staff is present, we’re also on. Now, my staff is part-time and here two or three days a week, but we
can’t
slip. I don’t care if anyone questions your lineage or where you’ve been all these years, because we have the truth on our side for that one. But we can’t afford any questions about
us
as a couple.”

“I know. We have to sell ourselves as the next great love story of all time before it becomes tabloid fodder for crash and burn. Celebrity couples do break up.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Just remember, no sex.”

“If you can keep your hands to yourself—” he grinned, “—so can I.”

Her gaze flicked over him like a cold spray of water. “That won’t be a problem. Oh, and, Martin?” She glanced at the attorney. “I want evidence of the scholarship fund being set up and a cashier’s check in hand before I sign the contract.”

The attorney looked to Daniel for approval, then sighed when he nodded. “You realize you’re both certifiable?”

Daniel laughed, surprised and pleased when Alyx joined him. “I would say we’re a perfect pair.”

“Hmm.” Martin hedged his response. “I’ll draw up the papers and the checks. I’ll meet with you both in the morning.” He snapped his briefcase closed and left, disapproval hovering in his wake.

“He
really
doesn’t like this plan.” Alyx propped her chin on her hand and stared after him.

Filling two glasses with wine, Daniel shrugged. “He doesn’t have to be happy. He just has to do the job.” Carrying the glasses over, he held one out to her. “A toast.”

“Question first.” She took the glass and shot him quizzical glance. He didn’t miss the flash of indecision in her eyes. Buyer’s remorse was always a problem—it was up to him to keep her calm until all the t’s were crossed and the i’s dotted.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Why the hell is this important to you? Five million? A pretend engagement to a virtual stranger? Stalking me? Setting up the elaborate audition? Now a contract that makes your attorney squeamish. That’s a hell of a lot of overkill just to sell some software. So—why?” She held the wineglass, her gaze sharp and assessing.

Intelligence was an attractive thing in a woman. Even when it pinned him to the spot like a target on a dartboard. “Because my company is on the cutting edge of every major security software development of the last five years and I can’t get a meeting with these people. They do business with their own kind, it’s not what you know—it’s who you know.” The knowledge wore at him like an ill-fitting shoe and rubbed him raw. It didn’t matter how cutting-edge his work was—
he
wasn’t good enough. “I’m going to be creative, get my foot in the door, and then my work will do the rest.”

She pursed her lips and he worried he’d said too much, pushed too hard. “I get that.”

Another surprise in a day filled with them. “Do you?”

Lifting her shoulders, she gave him a bittersweet smile. “I’ve been the kid on the outside. It sucks. So yeah, I get it.”

Maybe she really did understand... He didn’t want to examine that too closely. Not when Martin didn’t seem to grasp why it aggravated him to be blocked at every turn. But a company that didn’t grow, that didn’t expand, would eventually stagnate. To stay on the edge, he needed to push his boundaries everywhere.

“To new beginnings.” He held his glass out.

She stared at him for a long moment. “And a successful ending.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Their glasses clinked together and he washed down his uncertainties with the California white.