Looking for Prince Charming

Looking for Prince Charming

Iris Leach

Avon, Massachusetts

This edition published by

Crimson Romance

an imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

57 Littlefield Street

Avon, MA 02322

www.crimsonromance.com

Copyright © 2012 by Iris Leach

ISBN 10: 1-4405-5191-X

ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5191-8

eISBN 10: 1-4405-5188-X

eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-5188-8

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

Cover art © 123rf.com/© Christopher Meder, Konrad Bak

For my kids

and Michael, our lost angel

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

About the Author

More From This Author

Also Available

CHAPTER ONE

Coffee? Edoardo Pisani asked the tall, lean man spread out in a large chair opposite him.

Yes, nice, George Bellows answered.

Edoardo poured coffee, placed a mug in front of George and took his seat behind his desk. Okay, I’ll bite. Why the urgency of this meeting and so early in the morning? Not like you to be up and about before eleven. He chuckled. Politicians like the night, or so I’m told.

George guffawed. And lawyers bill their clients for irrelevant information, or so I’m told.

The men laughed in pleasant solidarity. What’s up, George?

George placed his coffee mug on the desk, leaned forward, and said earnestly, I want you to campaign for mayor.

Edoardo spluttered his coffee. What? Lord Mayor of Melbourne? Me? He knew George, Local Member of Parliament and ex-officio of Melbourne Council, carried weight with the council; it was his pet project.

Don’t play the innocent. I know you want this, Edoardo, and I believe you’d make the perfect mayor, he said. You’re honest, you play fair, and you’re the best at what you do. Heck, how many times have we talked about what you’d do for Melbourne if you had the chance? I know you’d campaign on the issues of city safety, youth homelessness, economic development …

And traffic management issues, Edoardo finished, pleased that George considered him the right material for Lord Mayor of Melbourne. I can’t deny that the job doesn’t interest me. Do you think the City of Melbourne would elect me?

By popular mandate, George said. There’s one little problem.

Edoardo sighed. Isn’t there always. Okay. ’Fess up. What’s the problem?

Your personal life. You’re like Jekyll and Hyde. You’re split in the sense that your professional life is above censure but your personal life is, well, questionable.

Edoardo pulled back. George had never before reproached him about how he conducted his private life. And no matter what, Edoardo had no intention of changing a thing. He liked his life the way it was. He was in control and he meant to keep in control.

That’s got nothing to do with how I’d run the mayor’s office.

It’s got everything to do with it.

Edoardo frowned. Hell, George, next you’ll be telling me what to wear.

George held up one hand. Hear me out. You’re a man of the night, Edoardo. You have a different girl on your arm every time I see you. The press would play it to the hilt, they’d murder you, and it wouldn’t help the Melbourne Council. Since that fiasco about restricting car-parking in the CBD and the land tax rise, they’re struggling to regain their good image. He studied Edoardo. You’ve got to settle down.

Settle down? Was George joking? Sophia leaped into his mind. Don’t go down that path. He pushed back the painful memories.

I couldn’t handle marriage, it gives me the chills just thinking about it.

Get married? How about swan diving off Uluru without feet straps? He was safe in his myriad of women and never, ever got involved. If things got out of his control and the girl had wedding bells sounding off in her ears, he’d send flowers and an expensive gift. Wish her the best for her future and cross her out of his little black book. Figuratively speaking.

He did what he did best — work. Work he understood and he could control.

Marriage can be nice and love quietens down over the years into something really special.

Is that a fact, George? He shook his head. I like my freedom. I like to pick and choose the women I go out with. No hassles, no promises, just a kiss hello and a kiss goodbye.

And when you grow old, what then, Edoardo?

Edoardo frowned. One woman in his life, telling him what colour tie to wear with what suit, how green vegetables grow hair on his chest and alcohol hardened arteries? No way.

Lonely old age? He’d get a dog.

I’ll worry about that in thirty years or so, he said. No, George, marriage is not for me.

And yet, George said, marriage is the only thing that suits you. He sighed. Look, Edoardo, I’ve known you since you first came to Australia as a kid. I’m a good friend of your parents and you.

The first tug of uneasiness niggled Edoardo. Something bad’s coming, I can feel it.

Hands on his knees, his expression serious, George said, You won’t make it as mayor without a steady relationship, and that’s a fact. The only people you’ll please are women under thirty. The rest will think you frivolous and too carefree for such a responsible position.

Edoardo pulled himself erect, his blood chilling, his mind freezing over. My God, George, you’re telling me to find a wife? He tugged his tie, now as tight as a hangman’s noose.

What I’m saying is for you to get into a stable relationship. Find a nice girl who’ll be by your side at all official functions. A girl that represents marriage, kids, and stability, he said. Show Melbourne and the council that you’re a steady type of bloke, ready to face and resolve any challenge the role of mayor might throw your way.

Edoardo slumped back against his chair. His perfect life quavered before his eyes before it flew out the office window and committed hara-kiri. I don’t have to marry her, do I, George? You know how I feel about marriage. I couldn’t hack it.

George ignored his outburst. Find a suitable girl from your list of women. Put things right, he paused. We start campaigning in a month. George stood and held out his hand. I want you as mayor, Edoardo, don’t let me down.

Edoardo stood and shook George’s hand. He owed this man so much. It’d been difficult for his parents when they first arrived from Italy. After buying the land in Yarra Valley and, starting the vineyard, they didn’t have much time for their young son. So George had been there for him, encouraging him to study hard at school, cheering when he went to law school, patting him on the back when he opened his practice and the major success that followed.

And he honestly wanted to be mayor. He had a yearning towards politics he hadn’t quite touched upon and this was his big chance. He folded his hands behind his head, leaning back in his chair staring at the ceiling. Did he know any nice girls?

What about Cindi? Hell no, she was a belly dancer at Fernando’s nightclub. Okay, think. Betty? His shoulders heaved. She was a mud wrestler every Friday and Saturday nights. Interesting, but definitely not what George had in mind. Who else? Mary Lou? She cooked a mean lamb roast, yes, and she’d been married four times and wasn’t divorced from the last.

A stir of annoyance. Why did he have to have a nice girl anyway? Wouldn’t the public accept him as a single man hell-bent on doing what was best for Melbourne? George’s words echoed inside his mind, not a man with a different girl on his arm every night.

Edoardo lowered his head inside his hands. Bugger, bugger, bugger, he murmured.

• • •

Glory Sandrin tightened the belt of her coat, hitched her bag high onto one shoulder, dug her hands deep into the pockets, and dashed up the stairs of the Empire Star building and through the main entrance.

The interior of the building was lavish. Glancing up she admired the decorative ceiling supported by columns of single pieces of Tasmanian freestone.

She ran her fingertips over the inscription on the brass plaque, Edoardo Pisani ~ Senior Counsel. One day it would read Edoardo Pisani SC and Partner.

She’d worked hard to get where she was. Part-time law school, part-time job waiting tables in a large busy restaurant in town, long hours and little pay. Then graduation with double honours and she knew the law world would be her oyster.

She hadn’t counted on a workaholic like Edoardo. She now worked longer hours than uni and the cafe put together. Research, investigations, preparing legal arguments — and she loved every minute of it. Her goal was to be in the same class as Edoardo and hard work, studying him in action, was the key.

She was good. Prided herself on her cool, snap, sometimes ruthless, decisions when things weren’t going the way she’d planned.

How many times had Edoardo said his practice had surged since she’d come to work with him?

She gave a friendly wave. Kate Goddard, the office law clerk, was waiting for her. Kate dressed like no other person Glory knew. Trendy cargo pants and high heels, a tight multi-coloured top that showed a little tanned skin, her hair braided into sections and hanging down over her shoulders. Bangles, beaded necklaces and a few gaudy rings completed the picture.

Dear Kate. Glory had poured her heart out to her about her childhood, the pain and sense of abandonment when her adored father had walked out on them, and the shock and grief at the sudden death of her mum. She’d told Kate her fears, her hopes, and her aspirations.

She told Kate everything, well, almost everything; there was one secret she’d kept back from her, a secret she wouldn’t share with anyone because it was an impossible dream.

She was in love with Edoardo Pisani — bad-boy.

A man any sane woman would steer clear of.

Edoardo was the mirror image of her dad, the eternal womanizer. Dissatisfied with one woman they played the field, changing women as often as they changed their shirts. She could never marry a man like that. That wasn’t in her master plan. Hi, Kate.

G’day, Kate greeted warmly. Linking arms, Kate gave her a gentle squeeze. It’s cold enough to freeze the bum off a brass monkey.

She laughed, although she chided Kate. Prose was never your strong point.

How’d the date go last night?

Kate had fixed Glory up with her cousin Cameron, and, as usual, the night had turned into a disaster. We didn’t hit it off.

You know your problem?

Every part of her body sighed. It was far too early in the morning for Kate’s psychobabble. No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.

You’re your own worst enemy. It’s as if you’re afraid to start a relationship.

Yes, she was scared — scared she’d make a mistake by choosing the wrong man and end up like her mum — miserable, afraid and lonely.

He came on to me too quickly. Besides, he talked about all his conquests throughout dinner.

He was trying to impress you.

She grimaced. He failed miserably.

Kate chuckled. You’re twenty-six and gorgeous. A Marilyn Monroe figure and ripe for love and what do you do? Hide yourself behind dusty law books.

I love my job, Glory protested.

That’s beside the point. Kate paused. You’re looking for Prince Charming and he only exists in fairy-tales.

What about Greg? Isn’t he your Prince Charming?

Something dark passed over her friend’s face. Sometimes he wears his socks to bed and he burps at the dinner table.

You’re so down-to-earth. Glory wouldn’t be put off. I think the perfect man is out there somewhere and I’m going to find him.

And then?

She managed a smile. We’ll marry and —

Kate’s eyebrows rose and she shook her head. And live happily ever after?

Glory knew her Prince Charming was out there and she would find him. She just knew she would. He’d be a one-woman man, a man who would put her above all others and then all her torturous dreams of loving Edoardo would dissolve. You sound embittered. Kate, is anything wrong?

Could be.

Tell me about it.

We’ll talk later. Kate glanced over her shoulder. Better go, got heaps of work piled on my desk. Wanna do lunch?

Early lunch. I’m due in court at two.

I can eat any time. She grinned and said, See you later. Kate made her way to her office on the opposite side