GOBSMACKED – Part I

Back during the first season of "Royal Pains" (2009), I created a girlfriend for Boris. Her name is Annabelle; she's a novelist. Annabelle and Boris met at a party. When a drunk at the party gets aggressive, Boris ends up rescuing her! This story takes you to that party.

If you like "Gobsmacked", read "Boris and the First Invitation" next. Enjoy!

I DON'T OWN "Royal Pains", or any of the "Royal Pains" characters.

Gobsmacked: utterly astonished; astounded

Gobsmacked! That was the word that was flashing in her head in bright neon letters. GOBSMACKED!

Declan had been plotting to get Boris and Annabelle together for months. Surprisingly, Boris had been amenable to the idea; Annabelle had not. Sure, Boris looked good on paper – a handsome, aristocratic billionaire. But Annabelle had a secret. Deep down inside, she was a broken toy. And handsome, aristocratic billionaires didn't fall in love with broken toys.

But Declan had finally worn her down. . .and here she was, handing her Jeep over to the valet, climbing the stone steps, and walking into the vaulted foyer.

Bugger! Boris had beaten her here; there he was, chatting with Declan. Annabelle took a deep breath, said a quick prayer to St. Jude – patron saint of hopeless cases! – and headed over to where Declan and Boris were standing.

"Annabelle!" Declan gave her a big hug, and made the introductions. Ever the European aristocrat, Boris took her hands in his, and gave her a quick kiss on each cheek. And, there it was. . .GOBSMACKED! Annabelle felt her whole world tilting on its axis. . .and she had just met the man! The three of them stood in the foyer, chatting, as the many partygoers swarmed around them.

Boris was speaking, but Annabelle was finding it difficult to breathe, much less pay attention to the conversation!

"Annabelle?"

"Hmmm? What? I'm so sorry; what were you saying?" Annabelle could see Declan smirking out of the corner of her eye; she wanted to throttle him!

"I said. . .the reviews for your latest novel are quite good. One of the reviewers called you the 'Daphne du Maurier for the 21st century'".

Annabelle could feel herself blushing. Really? REALLY?! Now Declan was grinning. . .not even trying to hide it.

"Oh. . .thank you! That review just left me speechless. And trust me when I tell you. . .I am NEVER speechless!" She chuckled along with Boris and Declan. "And that review is being framed as we speak; it's going on the wall in my office, right over my desk, so I can sit back and bask in the glory!" When she saw Boris raise an eyebrow, without thinking, she put her hand on his arm to reassure him. "I'm kidding! Well. . .not about the framing part, but about the basking part!"

Boris shook his head and muttered a sharp "Hrmph!", but Annabelle saw the corner of his mouth crook, just slightly, into half a smile. . .and her heart started to melt. Bloody hell!

Declan coughed, just to let Boris and Annabelle know he was still in the room! "So, Annabelle. . .NOW are you going to clear your schedule and come and write with me?"

Surprised, Boris looked first at Declan, then at Annabelle. "Are you two writing a novel together?"

An enthusiastic "Yes" from Declan. . .and an emphatic "No" from Annabelle.

Declan went on the offensive. "Annabelle, we could write a ripping good book! Think how much fun we could have. And. . ."

Annabelle looked skeptical. "And. . .what, Declan?"

Declan sighed, looking sheepish. "And. . .the critics said my last book was too 'macho'. I need a woman's touch. . .to appeal to my female readers!"

Boris glanced from Declan. . .to Annabelle. . .and back to Declan. "It sounds like an interesting project. Perhaps one of Annabelle's characters could. . .travel. . .into Declan's world?"

Declan and Annabelle both looked at Boris, and then at each other. Boris could see the gleam of an idea in Annabelle's eye.

"You know, Declan. . .we could write a mystery within a mystery; a new mystery based on an old mystery. We could solve them both! We'd both be bringing our strengths to the table!"

"Annabelle. . .that could be an amazing project. Will you at least think about it?"

Boris and Declan were both looking at her, waiting for a response. She threw up her hands in surrender. "All right. . .I'll think about it!" Laughing, both Boris and Declan applauded her decision.

Annabelle chuckled and shook her head. "Declan, you know. . .if we pull this off, we'll have to dedicate the book to Boris!"

At that moment, Declan's housekeeper – a pleasant-looking middle-aged Irish lady, who ran the house with an iron fist –interrupted, pulling Declan away to take care of a "very very terrible" problem in the kitchen, leaving Boris and Annabelle together in the foyer.

As Mrs. O'Malley dragged Declan away, Boris watched with a speculative gleam in his eyes. "I wonder what that was all about?"

Annabelle shook her head as she watched Declan and Mrs. O'Malley head toward the kitchen. "I don't have a clue. . .but I think that Declan is a little bit afraid of Mrs. O'Malley!"

Boris smiled, and nodded. "Ja, I think that you are right! Now. . .shall we move out of the foyer?" Annabelle smiled up at him and nodded.

Boris, his hand resting lightly on her back, moved her through the noisy throng, hoping to find a quiet spot where they could actually talk. "Shall we try the library?" A waiter walked by, offering champagne from a loaded tray; Boris lifted two glasses off the tray, handing one to Annabelle.

"So, Annabelle. . .how long have you known Declan?"

Looking up at him, Annabelle felt herself getting lost in his brilliant aquamarine eyes. "Oh. . .I. . .ah. . .ah. . .I've known Declan since I was a teenager. I remember waiting in line for hours at a bookstore in Dublin, hoping to get him to autograph his latest book. Then. . .a year or two later, he came to my university to teach a class. . .and I was lucky enough to get in! He was such a good teacher. . .and I learned so much. After the class ended, we kept in touch. Declan's been a friend. . .and a mentor. . .ever since. I honestly don't think I would be where I am today with my career without Declan! What about you, Boris? How did you meet Declan?"

"Oh. . .I actually met Declan in London many years ago. Our paths would cross quite frequently. . .usually at charity events."

Before Annabelle could ask Boris to elaborate, someone called his name. They both turned, and saw two men and an imposing woman dressed in purple approaching them, looking VERY determined.

"Boris. . .there you are! Declan said you would be here. We need to talk about those paintings, Boris!

Boris made quick introductions, and then turned to the woman in purple, who apparently was the ringleader of the group. "Muriel. . .I have been working behind the scenes with the estate, but it has become more complicated than I anticipated." Boris glanced at his watch. "Could we meet tomorrow morning, and try to resolve this?"

"NO, Boris! We are meeting with the museum board tomorrow morning; we need to resolve this tonight!"

Boris sighed, but kept his face expressionless. "Annabelle, I am so sorry, but I must take care of this tonight. Perhaps. . .we can continue our conversation. . .later?"

Annabelle was oddly disappointed; she had just met this man an hour ago! But she smiled, and nodded. "I'd like that."

Muriel was already pulling Boris away, but he looked back at Annabelle. "I will find you, Annabelle!"

Annabelle watched him until he disappeared among the other party goers. She set her champagne down on an empty table. She loved champagne, BUT. . .it tended to make her a little too. . .amorous! And that was the last thing she needed. . .or wanted. Not tonight! Annabelle got her bearings, and headed for the bar.

IF ANYBODY IS OUT THERE READING THIS STORY. . .I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU. I LOVE FEEDBACK!