§ § § -- February 15, 2004
Andrea had left quite early to catch the first ferry over to Coral Island so that she could take her time looking at and testing mattresses; to her surprise she had found one she liked, at a reasonable price, without too much fuss, and had been able to return to Fantasy Island within two hours. The Ring Road was almost completely level, all the way around the island, to facilitate bike travel as the main mode of transportation, and Andrea was grateful for that, since she was still woefully out of shape from her years in Brookline and taking the T to work in Boston every day.
She enjoyed the ride, breathing in the old familiar scents of the island where she had been born and raised; and whenever she caught the smell of the South Pacific, she inhaled deeply. Somehow, to her, the South Pacific smelled different from the North Atlantic; but it could be just the effect of being home again. She understood Janine's longing for Brookline far better than Janine thought she did, for she'd had the same underlying homesickness for this place during her years in Massachusetts. She loved the historic little state, but Fantasy Island was her home and she intended to spend the rest of her life here.
Andrea felt better when she coasted into the town square and parked her bike in front of Enstad Computer Services. This time, when she entered the shop, its only two occupants were Christian and Anton, and Christian was deep into another repair project. He did glance up and smile when she came in, and took the time to greet her. "Hello, Ms. Polidari, I presume you're here for your laptop?"
"If it's ready, yes," Andrea said.
Anton Lauterhoff got up from his desk and said, "Don't interrupt yourself, Christian, I'll take care of it. I know you're busy."
"And how," Christian agreed wryly. "Thank you, Anton, I appreciate it. Excuse me, please." Andrea nodded, and Christian turned his full attention back to the computer tower he was working on while Anton approached her and paused near a large table on the side of Christian's desk that faced the back of the room. The table held ten or twelve towers and laptops, each with a Post-it note attached to it that bore its owner's name.
Anton scanned the collection and nodded, lifting one of the laptops. "Here's yours, Ms. Polidari. It's actually a little less than we anticipated—forty-five dollars for the whole repair job."
"Oh, that's great," said Andrea. She dug around in her purse for her checkbook, at which point the phone rang. Anton picked up the one on Mateo's desk while Andrea wrote out her check. "One moment," the German said and put the caller on hold, turning to his boss. "I'm sorry, Christian, but it's the newspaper's Humanities department again. More of the same trouble, I think."
"It's never anything but the same trouble," Christian noted with a resigned sigh. "Let me install this one piece first. Find out exactly what the problem is for me, will you?"
Anton nodded and got back on the line. Andrea ripped the check out of the checkbook and waited quietly for him to finish, watching him while he was focused on something other than her. Anton Lauterhoff was a little taller than she was, with a slightly stocky build but not really overweight. After a moment he hung up and delivered the verdict in technical terms Andrea didn't understand. Christian groaned aloud, then nodded and withdrew his hands from the tower, blowing out his breath and then smiling ruefully at Andrea. "My apologies. It's been hectic lately, and this request from the newspaper comes at one of the worst possible times."
"My sister Camille's told me about it, since her friend Myeko works there," Andrea remarked and grinned. "Apparently they won't let anyone except you tinker with their machines anymore."
"I haven't figured that out yet," Anton complained lightly. "I'm the main troubleshooter here, but evidently at some point a couple of years ago, all the computers in that department went down at the same time, and Christian resuscitated them all—apparently solidifying his reputation as a miracle worker over there. Now they can't even remember my name, and I can always tell when they call because they demand, 'Can Prince Christian come and fix our dinosaurs again?' " They all laughed while Anton accepted Andrea's check and Christian pulled open a drawer in his desk, extracting some items and slipping them into his pocket. Anton glanced over the check and smiled. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Andrea said, "and thank you both for fixing this thing. Considering how busy you are, I feel like I underpaid you for doing it so fast."
"Ach," Christian said dismissively, "that's the business we're in. Now, if you two will kindly excuse me, I'm off to see if I can raise those doddering old machines from the dead yet again." He rolled his eyes, making Anton and Andrea both laugh, and grinned before making his way out the door.
"I've heard talk," Andrea said, chuckling. "My little sister Julianne probably said it best: there are two things Prince Christian loves more than anything else on earth, and one of them is this business of his…the other's Miss Leslie."
Anton nodded, smiling. "I think she's right. Well, if you find any problems with that laptop, just give us a call and we'll check them out. But Christian's very thorough."
"Oh, I'm not worried. He has an excellent reputation," Andrea said. "I appreciate the trouble you went to, no matter what. I mean, I can see Prince Christian's got a lot of work waiting for him, and with all those completed projects sitting on that table…"
"We've all been putting in some overtime," Anton agreed, chuckling, "but Christian tries to keep things from going overboard as much as he can. He has added incentive in any case, what with his wife being pregnant and his concern about her." He cleared his throat and opened a cash drawer that had been built into Jonathan's desk, depositing Andrea's check inside it. "Before you leave, Ms. Polidari…"
Andrea had been halfway to the door. "Yes?"
Anton looked slightly uncomfortable, she thought, but his voice was steady when he spoke. "I wondered if perhaps you were free sometime this week…to accompany me to dinner? Perhaps even this evening?"
Momentarily speechless, Andrea stared at him in astonishment. She'd taken a certain notice of him, but she hadn't believed he'd given her a second thought. She had to admit that it was nice to be wrong. Smiling at him, she said, "I am free tonight, and I'd like that very much. Please just call me Andrea, okay?"
"Then I am Anton, and I'm very happy to hear it," he said, returning her smile for the first time. There was something in it, that smile meant just for her, that made him look a little different to her somehow—more appealing than he'd been in the beginning. "When can I come for you, then?"
‡ ‡ ‡
"Hello, Your Highness…welcome back," said the receptionist in the lobby of the building occupied by the Fantasy Island Chronicle. Her smile was as wry as Christian's return one, which graduated into a laugh when he registered her expression.
"I don't know if it's nice to be back or not," he remarked, making the receptionist laugh as well. "Humanities again, of course."
"Of course," she said. "Good luck." Christian grinned and headed for that department; he'd been here so many times that he knew the building almost as though he were an employee here. He strode up the long main hall till he came to a pair of flights of steps, one going up and the other down. He chose the up staircase and rounded the railing at the top, opening the first door on the right. The place was mostly unchanged, except for its occupants. Bud Shroyer was still there, and so was Myeko Okada; the two desks at the back were held by other employees now. Young Kevin Mossevich, an eager-beaver reporter, had landed his dream job in Hawaii and left more than a year before; and Gordy Strassner, the longtime photographer for the Chronicle till scandal had sent him off to accept a job in Canada, had been replaced by a cheerful Chinese girl whom everyone liked on sight. Though Christian couldn't remember her name, he did recall that she was the young daughter of the sheriff's secretary, Mei-Lian Ching. "Hello, all," he said as he came in.
They all looked up and smiled at him, including the redheaded young reporter who had taken Kevin Mossevich's place and kept up with the high-school teams and their performance across each school year. "Hello, Your Highness," they said as one, except for Myeko, who said, "Hi, Christian. It's mine again."
"Aha. What happened this time?" he asked, setting down his briefcase.
"The CD drive won't work," she said and sighed heavily. "To tell you the truth, I'm astounded this thing works at all." Myeko suddenly brightened. "Hey, Christian, isn't your sister seeing Negative Nordeman?"
"I think so," Christian said, pausing to stare at her in surprise. "Why?"
"You think so?" Myeko repeated, some of her hopeful light falling away. "Don't tell me they're gonna break up!"
"Well, I can't tell you one way or the other," Christian admitted, "for we've seen little of Anna-Laura lately. I expect if she had stopped seeing him, however, Leslie and I would probably have heard about it by now." He extracted a screwdriver from his briefcase and began to twist screws out of the tower housing. "Why do you ask?"
"I was going to see if maybe you could put a bug in her ear, have her suggest to him that he could authorize the funds to replace all the computers in this place," Myeko said wistfully. "I figured, if he thinks of Princess Anna-Laura as his girlfriend, she might have enough clout with him to make him listen. Tell her to ask him to take her on a tour of the newspaper building or something, and she'd see firsthand just how bad it really is."
Christian laughed aloud. "That's a rather sneaky and roundabout way of getting new equipment, don't you think?"
"I can't come up with anything better, and I figured that idea might actually have a chance of working," Myeko said, propping her chin on her fist to watch him lift the housing off the tower. "Y'know, Christian, I really don't mean to sound like a gossip, but it occurred to me that something must've happened that old Negative didn't like too much. He's never exactly a paragon of sweetness and light to begin with, and everybody in the place is scared silly of him—including the fat cats who're running it. Just this morning he came stomping through here, intimidating the guts out of everybody and going over a copy of today's paper, looking for something to criticize. Not that that's much different from what he normally does, but this time he went so far as to fire half a dozen staff." Christian paused again and stared at her. "I wondered if something wasn't maybe going on in his personal life or something. Like I said, I don't want to sound like a gossip, and I wouldn't bother sticking my nose in, except that that's never happened before. I honestly think he's taking out whatever frustrations he has on the staff here. That's why I mention it."
Christian nodded once or twice and returned his attention to the computer, gently pushing the CD tray in and out a few times. He had a feeling he knew what probably lay behind Nordeman's alleged rampage, but he didn't see the need to fill Myeko in, even though she was Leslie's friend. He had no particular wish to betray his sister's confidence. "Well, I don't know for certain myself. I have some idea, but I can't really be sure."
"I'm not looking for the story," Myeko said quickly, and he had to smile ruefully at that; his and Leslie's friends were all very well versed in his somewhat fanatical pursuit of privacy. "I only thought it might be beneficial to the staff here if…well…"
"I understand what you're trying to do, Myeko," Christian assured her. "Don't think I have the wrong idea about your intentions. Perhaps I'll talk to Anna-Laura after I return home this evening, but that depends on where she is. I don't know how much she's really seeing of Gregory Nordeman." He pushed the CD tray back in and slanted a glance at her. "Negative Nordeman?"
"For obvious reasons," Myeko said dryly.
Christian grinned. "Leslie and I still haven't met him, so I can't verify that. Well, let me at least see if I can fix this thing for you." He began to tinker with the drive, wondering in spite of himself what sort of state Anna-Laura's budding relationship with Gregory Nordeman was really in.
‡ ‡ ‡
Roarke and Leslie were having a late lunch on the veranda when Anna-Laura made an appearance, wheeling Lisi's stroller along with her. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, seeing that they were in the middle of the meal.
"Not at all, Your Highness," Roarke said warmly. "Please sit and join us."
"Thank you, Mr. Roarke," Anna-Laura said with some relief in her voice, taking the chair Christian usually used. She noticed. "What happened to Christian? It was my understanding that he usually takes meals with you two on weekends."
Leslie explained, "I called his office to tell him we were eating late, due to assorted events of the morning, and I found out he was out on a call—fixing someone's broken computer at the newspaper again. I'm afraid that by the time he gets finished, we'll be finished too." She grinned. "I'll probably take a plate over to him later on. What's up?"
Anna-Laura swallowed hard and stared at her hands, folded in her lap. "I'm not sure how to go about asking this," she said. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning, Leslie, so that you'll understand why I feel the need to ask." She met her sister-in-law's gaze. "You know, of course, that Gregory suggested Lisi and I stay with him until you and Christian can provide rooms for me."
"Right," said Leslie quizzically.
"I knew Christian was right about my not actually doing it," Anna-Laura said, "but I still felt bad about turning Gregory down. He wanted to know why, and I told him that I have a certain visibility, as royalty, and it might be damaging not only to me but to him as well. But he reacted quite differently from what I'd expected. When I finished explaining my reasons to him, he promptly proposed marriage."
"Oh wow," Leslie blurted, astonished.
"I suppose that's as legitimate a reaction as any," Anna-Laura said dryly, smiling faintly at Leslie's sheepish grin. "I was rather startled myself."
"What did you tell him?" Roarke inquired.
"I said no," Anna-Laura admitted. "It's simply too soon for me; I like the man as a friend, and I have some attraction to him—but it's not been so long since we met each other. And moreover, he has a terrible temper. When I tried to tell him why I was turning him down, he simply ordered me out of his house; and when I did leave, he slammed the door after me. He claims to be in love with me…"
"Perhaps he is," Roarke offered. "Everyone falls in love at a different pace, Your Highness, and it's not irrational for him to make such a claim."
Anna-Laura nodded. "I realize that," she said, "but something in me wonders, all the same. I don't know if he truly loves me—at least, enough to try to understand my position and make allowances for it. If he cares that much for me, don't you think he could try to meet me halfway?"
"It seems so on the surface," Roarke said, "but he may have the same complaint about you." He sat back and smiled a little. "Granted, I don't know him especially well; since his arrival on the island, he's been mostly a recluse. However, when he and I were in negotiations over the sale of the mansion he now lives in, I got enough of an impression of him to know that he has suffered a great deal in his life, and that he has a very quick and very fiery temper. He is a determined man, Your Highness, and I sensed that when he sees something he wants, he pursues it with particular doggedness until he eventually gets it."
"And it sounds as if you're the latest thing he's pursuing," Leslie agreed.
Anna-Laura frowned in consternation. "I don't mind being pursued, but I should think he would have a care for my thoughts. He's quite self-focused, I've found. Whatever he claims in regard to his feelings for me, I'm afraid I need to put some distance between him and me." She gave Leslie a worried look. "That's why I must ask you this. Properly Christian should be here as well, but since he isn't available, I'll have to beg it of you. I'm a little homesick…not that your island isn't lovely, Mr. Roarke, I've truly enjoyed my stay here and the chance to spend time with Christian and Leslie. But I'm beginning to feel crowded by Gregory, and I think it's best for both of us that he have the chance to cool down. Leslie, I know I promised you and Christian to stay until the babies are two or three months old and assist in their care…but I find I need to return home to Lilla Jordsö. I haven't been in close contact with Roald, although I've heard from Gabriella, who still tends to come to me for advice, as her closest elder female relative."
"If you need to go home, Anna-Laura, then go," Leslie urged. "We'll miss you, of course, especially since I was looking forward to having you around to lean on—after all, I'll be a brand-new mother, and you've had experience." Both women laughed. "But don't feel as if you're obligated to stay. We can find help here—I expect there'll be no shortage of applicants once the word gets out that Christian and I need live-in help."
Anna-Laura smiled. "Leslie, you're more understanding than I have a right to ask you to be," she said, "and frankly, it's occurred to me that Gabriella should learn to stand on her own two feet as queen. After all, she wanted the throne badly enough that she and Anna-Kristina had any number of loud and bitter fights about it as children, and she thought she was the most fortunate young woman on earth when Anna-Kristina abdicated the succession. However, she doesn't seem to have completely stepped into her role, and I thought my being away for an extended time would help her to grow into it properly. Unfortunately, it looks as if she'll be able to use me as a crutch again."
"Don't let her," Leslie said. "If I were you, I'd start suggesting to her that she think about what seems appropriate to do in a given situation. You shouldn't let Gabriella take any more advantage of you than you were willing to let Gregory Nordeman do." She smiled. "Besides, I know you're still grieving for Axel and Cecilia, and you need time for that. Your only real responsibility should be to Lisi—and to yourself."
"You're too generous," Anna-Laura murmured, smiling apologetically at her. "I've had repeated reason in the last three years to be thankful that Christian found you, and again I'm grateful he did. I only hope Christian doesn't take it out on you when he finds that I'm preparing to return home."
Leslie laughed. "Just give him a call at home tonight and explain it to him," she said. "I think he'll understand, especially in regard to Gregory Nordeman. Don't worry about it, and don't feel guilty about going home."
"I'll try not to," Anna-Laura said, rising. "Thank you both for your time. Please excuse me—I'll start preparing for the trip home now." Roarke and Leslie nodded, and she pushed Lisi's stroller ahead of her down the veranda, her head hanging.
Before either Roarke or Leslie could say anything, though, they had another visitor: Jeremy Ichino this time. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, noting their lunch.
"We're used to it," said Leslie with a wry grin. "Can we help you?"
"Well, it won't take long," Jeremy sighed and addressed Roarke. "I've decided I'm gonna resign as a judge, Mr. Roarke. It's the only thing I can do without suffering from a bruised conscience. I hope you don't mind…but, well, I did at least manage to find a replacement, if she's okay by you."
"Who would 'she' be?" Roarke asked.
"My niece, Janine," Jeremy said. "She's sixteen and she's into a lot of today's music. I think she could be a big help."
"Does Janine know you're volunteering her?" Leslie asked humorously.
Jeremy grinned at that. "I ran it by her about an hour ago, and she actually looked enthusiastic about something for once. Andrea says she's been pretty resentful about having to leave Massachusetts and all her friends, and I thought she might enjoy this. Not that I was overly optimistic about her reaction, but she liked the idea better than I thought she would. So she'll be here about two-thirty, Mr. Roarke, so you can brief her on what needs to be done."
"Very well," Roarke agreed. "You're quite sure this is the right thing to do?"
"Positive," Jeremy said. "I mean, I was really looking forward to judging the contest, Mr. Roarke…but I'm more afraid of losing Holly than of missing out. Now I can root for Holly and her band without feeling as if I'm biased."
Roarke smiled. "I wish you and Miss Misuki luck, Jeremy," he said, and Jeremy gave them both a wide grin, thanked Roarke and jogged off the veranda.
"I hope," Leslie said, staring at her plate, "that we might have a chance to finish before the contest starts. By the time I can take a plate to Christian, he probably might as well have come over here and joined us after all." Roarke laughed, and this time they managed to finish their lunch.
Leslie took a plate over to Christian, who lit up at sight of her. "A sight for sore eyes, you are," he said. "I never did get a chance to eat lunch, and I'm incredibly hungry. How are you and those babies doing, my Rose?"
"We're all fine, my love," she said, easing herself into a chair on the other side of the work arm of his desk and watching him take the cover off the plate, then registering exactly how many projects he had waiting to be done. "Holy cow, you really are busy!"
"Frantically so," he said, taking a bite. "It seems more and more of your guests are in the habit of bringing their computers here with them, and they always seem to need fixing. I must admit, I'll be glad when this rush dies down. I just got back a little while ago from the newspaper—Myeko's computer developed another glitch, and I had to bring the whole machine back here with me in order to replace the CD drive." He chuckled. "She wanted me to ask Anna-Laura to mention springing for new computers to Nordeman."
Leslie blinked and bit her lip. "Oh," she said.
Christian paused and queried, "What is it?"
"Well…" Leslie met his gaze a little hesitantly. "I'm not sure that's going to happen, even if you mention it to her." He tilted his head to one side, and she explained what Anna-Laura had said at lunch. Christian stared at her in disbelief.
Finally he shook his head and frowned at the half-empty plate. "I can understand her point of view very well, actually, but I didn't think it would unnerve her enough to make her decide to return home. I'd far rather have had her here helping us than someone we don't really know."
"There's always Anna-Kristina," said Leslie.
"But she has a job," Christian reminded her. "In any case, I heard the other day that the adoption is about to go through, and she and Mateo will be leaving for China sometime next month, I think. They're still arguing over a name for the little girl. At any rate, I doubt she'll have any time for us and the twins." He sighed and shook his head. "I suppose we'll just have to hope for the best."
"Something'll turn up, my love," Leslie assured him. "It's still a little early to be worrying that much about nannies and so on." The bell over the door jangled, and Julianne Ichino came in. "Hi, Julianne."
Julianne grinned. "Hi, Miss Leslie! How're the babies?"
"Fine," Leslie said. "Still in here where they should be." She patted her abdomen, and Julianne laughed.
"Well, that's good," she said. "Say, uh, have you seen Jeremy anywhere? He was supposed to meet me and Jonathan for lunch, and he never showed."
"I don't know where he is now," said Leslie, "but I can tell you where he was about an hour ago. He came to Father and me and let it be known he was resigning as judge of the Battle of the Bands contest. Andrea's daughter Janine agreed to be judge in his place."
Julianne stared at her and exclaimed, "Janine? You must be kidding!"
"Why?" asked Christian, scraping the last bite off his plate.
"Because Janine's been so resentful of the move here," said Julianne. "She didn't want to leave Massachusetts, and she's been sullen and standoffish since she got here. I can't believe he got her to get involved in something. I've got half a mind to ask for the afternoon off just to see her do it with my own two eyes."
Christian and Leslie laughed. "I'm sure it'd make Andrea happy," Leslie said, "but from what I see here, she'll have to go see it instead of you—way too much work sitting here waiting to be done, and I'm sure Christian wouldn't let you worm your way out of doing your share of it."
"Quite true," Christian agreed, and Leslie and Julianne laughed. "All right then, I'm done. Thank you, my darling, and thank Mariki as well. That was very good—hit the spot, as you say. I think I can make it till closing now."