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She did.
Her mother was the sweetest, most easygoing woman Parker had ever known.
Unfortunately Parker hadn’t inherited any of those qualities from her mom.
She tried to recognize her own virtues…and laid-back wasn’t one of them. Parker knew she was as hard-headed and sure of herself as her father and brother.
She smiled as she thought of them all.
She adored them, even her bossy father. And to be honest, she missed them terribly.
But loving her family and living with them were two distinctly different things. There were so many burdens associated with her family name.
Parker wasn’t shy, but being the focus of so much public scrutiny was trying. Endless appearances that were little more than photo ops. And press who found even the most private details of her life to be fair game, as well. Being followed, hounded… A claustrophobic feeling pressed on her chest, making her pulse start to race.
Parker forced herself to draw in a long, slow breath and release it as she pushed unpleasant memories aside.
No, she wasn’t going back to that life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss her family. Despite everything, she knew she was lucky to have them all.
Look at Shey.
Shey didn’t have anyone except for her and Cara. The three of them were truly sisters of the heart. But Parker knew that Shey longed for more. That her friend would give anything for a real family, even if they came with unwanted baggage.
“I’ll call tonight,” she promised. “But right now, I’m off to work on my waitressing skills.”
“Ask Mr. Tall, Dark and Yummy if the two of you have met.”
“Maybe,” Parker said, hefting the tray and trying to balance it. “Maybe I will.”
“Maybe I won’t tell if you promise not to follow me again,” Jace O’Donnell told his niece and nephew.
The twins looked stubborn.
“You know your mother will ground you, right? Your mom is tough.”
Jace knew that was stretching the truth more than a little. His sister liked to pretend she was tough, but to be honest, she had a soft heart.
It’s what made her special.
It’s also what had caused her so much pain recently.
“We eat, then you leave,” Jace continued. “And maybe, just maybe, I won’t tell.”
“Come on, Uncle Jace,” Amanda whined. She reminded him of her mother. Shelly had the same brown hair with streaks of blond, the same inquisitive blue eyes as the twins…she’d also been a huge pain when they were growing up. Her kids were carrying on the tradition.
Chalk one up for genetics.
Part of Jace wanted to hug his pretty little niece. The other part knew that if he didn’t come down on them hard now, he’d spend the rest of the twins’ summer vacation checking over his shoulder to see if they were tailing him.
“You know better,” he said sternly. “You could have blown this case.”
“We wouldn’t,” Bobby assured him. “We’re practicing. Next year we’re in high school. Four years after that and we can come work for you full-time as P.I.s.”
Jace stifled a groan and reminded himself that he was flattered the twins wanted to work for him. They wanted to be like him because they looked up to him.
But occasionally their admiration was too much.
This was one of those times.
“This is an important case,” he said. “I can’t afford to lose it.”
“Tell us all about it,” Amanda said, clearly intrigued. “We can help you.”
“No.”
“Four years, Uncle Jace,” Bobby said. “That’s only forty-eight months. We need to train now.”
“Not four years.” The kids’ faces fell and Jace felt like a heel. They’d been through so much lately, and now he’d made them feel worse.
“Eight,” he corrected. “You each get your college degree first. Then, if you still want, you can have a job.”
“We don’t need college,” Bobby said. “We want to work for you. You can teach us everything we need to know. Starting now with this case. Who are we spying on?”
Jace ignored their questions about the case and focused on their reluctance to attend college. “Unfortunately I only hire college graduates. As for my case—”
Parker Dillon was heading their way, a tray balanced precariously on one hand.
“Shh,” Jace said, not wanting their waitress to hear the conversation about his case—mainly because she was the case. Not that he was telling the kids that.
Her tray wobbled as she approached their table and the huge puddle of water their very wet feet had made.
Visions of coffee and hot chocolates falling prompted Jace to jump to his feet and grab the tray just as she skidded through the puddle.
“My hero,” she said with a grin as she righted herself. “That could have been a mess.”
She took the tray back.
“No problem,” Jace said as he slid back into the booth.
“It would have been a problem if it had spilled, so as a thanks for saving me from certain disaster, your order’s on me.”
He frowned. He knew from his report that Parker Dillon didn’t have money to spend on their breakfast. Last week her father had cut off her trust fund, and Parker didn’t have two plug nickels to rub together. She’d be scrambling to make this month’s rent and to pay the stores’ monthly bills if she hadn’t sold her car.
He wondered if her father knew. He’d have to include the information in his next report.
“You don’t have to do that,” Jace said.
“It’s my pleasure. It’s not every day a girl meets a hero.”
“I’m no hero,” he felt compelled to warn her.
The way she was looking at him, her very naked admiration, made him feel guilty.
And there was no way he should feel guilty. He wasn’t here to harm her. As a matter of fact, he was here to make sure she didn’t come to any harm.
“You’re a hero,” she said again.
“I’m—”
Before he could protest further, his helpful niece and nephew jumped in.
“Sure you are, Uncle Jace,” Amanda said. “Why, just last week Mom said you were her hero when you took us to Cedar Point for the day.”
“And how about the time you caught that guy who stole the lady’s purse?” Bobby added. “The paper said you were a hero.”
Parker smiled at the twins, then turned to Jace. “See, I was right, you’re a hero. I can always spot one. So, your breakfast, such as it is, is on me since you saved it from being on me.”
She laughed at her own play on words.
Jace just frowned. He knew that Parker had no experience with being broke. He could give her lessons, but not without blowing his cover.
This was the first time in her life that she had to work for her money. And if her almost mishap was any indication, she hadn’t quite settled into a blue-collar existence yet.
And why should she?
Parker Dillon was no real waitress.
Parker Dillon was a princess.
A true, blue-blooded, wear-a-crown-to-royal-functions sort of princess. And it was his job to find out why she wouldn’t go home and assume her royal duties. Until he did, he was to ensure the safety of Princess Marie Anna Parker Mickovich Dillonetti of Eliason.
“Really, we can’t allow you to pay for our breakfast. I know how tight it can be to live on a budget.”
There, he’d reminded her that she was on a budget now. She had to watch her money and couldn’t go spending it on just anything or anyone.
“Really, it’s my pleasure. Like I said, it’s not every day a girl meets a real hero. Speaking of meeting, have we met before? You look familiar.”
“No.”
She looked taken aback by his monosyllabic, more-than-a-little-brusque response. But when he didn’t say anything else, she took the hint.
“Well, all right, then. Just holler if you need anything else.”
“We’re fine,” Jace said.
When Bobby appeared as if he was going to say something, Jace gave him a look of warning, and for once his nephew heeded it and sank back in his seat, silent.
Without another word, Parker Dillon left them.
Jace watched her go.
The princess went back to the counter, ready to wait on someone else.
And while she was waiting on tables, her father, Antonio Paul Capelli Mickovich Dillonetti, the king of Eliason, was waiting for Jace to find out why she wouldn’t go home.
What a mess.
“Hi, Mom.” Parker was taking a break in the small back office later that afternoon. “It’s me. Father called and wanted to speak to me.”
“Are you two fighting again?” There was motherly concern in the former Erie resident’s voice. Back then her mom had been plain Anna Parker. A small-town girl. Now she was a queen. More than that, she was a woman who liked her family to be happy and get along.
Since Parker’s father and brother were both stubborn and autocratic, the family dynamics were frequently less than tranquil. But all three of them tried to keep their squabbles to themselves. By an unspoken agreement, they didn’t run tattling to Parker’s mom. Which is why Parker said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom. I just called to talk to him. Can’t a daughter call her father just because she misses him?”
There was a decidedly less-than-queenly snort from the other end of the line.
“So, how are you?” she asked before her mother could phrase a more wordy retort.
“Fine. How are you?”
They made small talk for a while. Regular homey talk. Her mother chatted about her charities and Parker’s father. She mentioned that Parker’s brother, Michael, was on a short diplomatic tour. “He’ll be in the States and is hoping to visit. He misses you.” There was a slight pause, then her mother added softly, “We all do.”
Parker suspected that Michael wasn’t coming just to visit. He sided with her father and considered Parker’s decision to abdicate her royal duties a childish whim she’d eventually outgrow. His visit would consist of a lot of Parker-it’s-time-to-grow-up lectures.
She’d have groaned at the thought, but she was stuck on her mother’s comment. “I miss you, as well.”
“Even if you don’t want to live in Eliason, there’s nothing that says you can’t visit, is there?”
“I will. Soon. I promise.”
“Good. Let me get your father for you.”
For a moment Parker thought her mother was gone, but then she said, “And, Parker, remember I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
She waited on the line, trying to psych herself up for another conversation with her father. It wasn’t going to be as easy as her conversation with her mother had been.
Once upon a time, her father had known her every thought, her every dream. He’d hold her on his lap and they’d really talk.
Parker felt a stab of regret that those days were long since gone. Now they barely spoke. And when they did, her father spent his time issuing ultimatums, and she spent her time ignoring every one of them.
“I’m going to put you through to him. Try not to fight.”
“Mom, how can you think we’d fight?”
Again, her mother snorted.
These days, despite any good intentions not to, whenever she and her father spoke, fighting was inevitable.
