Royal Hearts (Love At The Lake #2)

Chapter 35

Thirty-Five

CAT

O ne week later, New Year’s Day.

“Do we know if they’ll be sitting? Or standing?” I shield my eyes from the sun-on-snow glare and ask a stylist, sent here to help me orchestrate wardrobe for the proposal episode.

We’re on top of the mountain in Garland, past Little Star Lodge, past the Whoville tree that is currently being deconstructed in the most depressing of visuals, past the ski lifts, and to the right of parked snowmobiles where the crew is building the finale set for Royal Hearts . There’s a clearing dotted with trees where Streamflix has set up a production tent and Winter is currently getting ready. Massive viewership is predicted for the finale, and I can’t help thinking about my boyfriend preparing a proposal speech for another woman. Not a good feeling.

Stick with the plan. He loves you—not that we’ve said that, of course, but he cares. I know he cares. Stick. To. The. Plan. My head commands, though my heart is ringing with warning bells and waving red flags.

“I think it best to be prepared for all scenarios. Anything can happen on these shows.” He shrugs and walks away. Did they fly him here just for that bit of sage advice? Our budget must be flush since the ratings skyrocketed.

“We’re adding log benches here, if that helps,” a young woman with a toolbelt around her waist and a work coat zipped up to her chin offers. “I’m Emily,” she sticks out her hand and I shake it.

“Are you crew?” I ask.

“God no, I run a small construction business in Novel. I think you know my brother, he friends with Winter, Ben Holiday?”

“Oh my gosh, you’re his sister?”

“One of three, yeah. I’m almost finished building the igloo with faux snow that’s supposed to blend in with the real snow under our feet.” She stomps her boot. “Then I think they’re headed that way, to the arch.” She points off in the distance. “Are you headed up there?”

“Yeah,” I nod, pulling my sunglasses from my bag. This day started early and it’s going to end late, but we’re in the final stretch.

“Do me a huge favor, take this box with you?” She points at a box full of blankets, a bucket of roses tucked inside. “I’m drowning over here, and no one else on crew seems to know how to use a power drill. Throw the blankets out and sprinkle the roses around a little. Thanks so much!”

The igloo structure they’ve assembled with Styrofoam and fake snow spray is perfect, and from what I can see, the proposal set is going to be interesting as well.

I glance at my watch. Technically, I’ve got time before I check on Winter. “I can do that.” I can get behind a woman with power tools.

This is my last day as a PA working on a set like this. When I go back to Brand Hub, I’m making some big changes. I’ll still give every last drop of my creativity and passion to my projects, but not all of me. I can no longer allow work to be the thing that defines me, I have to live my life for that. I have to find my passions, my loves, and the things that make me excited. And I have to slow down. I can’t wear all the hats. If I’ve learned nothing else from being forced to get cozy on a mountain for the holidays, I have to rest and recharge from time to time.

My cozy Christmas with Winter, unwrapping presents in matching pajamas, a brunch spread still in our pajamas with his crew, and giving myself a minute to enjoy it all has changed everything.

The towns of Clover and Novel rallied around us over Christmas break, that’s the only way we could keep our little secret while living out in the open. There was a meeting at the shared town hall, and a newsletter circulated instructing everyone not to take pictures of us, film us on their phones, or post any details about us on the internet. I heard the Lake Committee held a super-secret gathering at Holiday Bait, Boat, and Tackle to organize a plan for hunting paparazzi should there be a need.

And they listened. It’s all anyone can talk about. A Christmas miracle that Clover and Novel could put their small-town rivalry aside for love and band together to hide us in our little snow globe come to life.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, I’ve already got it back which is making communication all around much easier, though I’m not letting socials take over my life like they used to. Winter’s name pops on the screen, pretty-man - boyfriend . Adding that to my contacts made my heart thump and the silliest giggle fall from my lips.

Pretty Man Boyfriend: What’s it gonna be, Bloom? Tux, or townie?

There’s a photo attached, Winter in the production tent next to a snack table holding a chic black tuxedo in one hand, and a puffy plaid vest with a beanie in the other.

Me: Tux. You’re gonna stun, Win.

Pretty Man Boyfriend: Coming home to you, Bloom, with tux ON.

The feeling that tumbles through me is what I think is referred to as butterflies in the tummy, and even though it’s scary to be vulnerable like this, I love it. This is the kind of joy that work just can’t deliver. This is personal, and it’s real. Winter fuels me instead of draining me, I want to be the best version of myself for him.

It’s ironic I have to watch him propose to another woman, which is going to gut me from the inside out—I’m only human! But the show must go on. We have a plan. We’re almost to the finish line. Then Winter and I can be together, whatever that looks like. Life with a sometimes melancholy, always charming, magnanimous, and entertaining prince (or rather, former prince) will surely keep me on my toes.

It’ll still be a risk. I don’t know that I’ll ever shake the feeling that it’s me against the world, but Winter understands that part of me, and it’s a risk I’m prepared to take.

I lug the box of blankets to the next set and go about laying them out. A sense of foreboding washes over me as I reach for the bucket of romantic red roses. I can’t believe I’m laying out a bed of literal roses for the man I love to propose to another woman, but I push the ugly feeling penetrating my happy bubble away.

“Who made this thing?” I grumble, a guy next to me surveying the structure. The arch is the size of a truck, wood, and in the shape of a heart.

“It’s going to burst into flame. Some woodworking-pyro-townie guy dropped it off. You should have seen the circus it took to get it up here.”

“Logan Green?” I ask. I know way too much about Main Street and the people in the towns at the bottom of the mountain already.

He snaps his fingers, “I think that’s his name. It’s a good set piece, should frame the guy taking a knee nicely. You know, a lot of these reality couples make it. I’ve got a buddy who was on ‘Bachelor Island Tiki Getaway’ about ten years ago, he’s got three kids now—one in braces.”

His words, so nonchalant and friendly make my head swim and my stomach cramp.

“Excuse me,” I blurt.

“You alright?”

Jolting to my feet, I run for a secluded spot in the trees. My insides heave, not butterflies this time, and my entire breakfast with the sting of acidic coffee comes back to greet me. I have the presence of mind to be grateful I’m not hurling in front of cameras—they’re filming everything today.

“Miss, are you ok?” the guy calls, covering his mouth and nose even though he’s at least fifty feet away.

“What’s going on?” Oh God, that’s Marco’s voice.

“I’m fine,” I wave them off with a hand behind me. I can’t turn my head because I’m still retching into the trees, dry heaving until there’s nothing left.

I’m literally lovesick. My body is saying no. No to all of this. The thought of Winter proposing to another woman, marrying her, having kids with braces and ridiculously beautiful hair, has made me physically ill.

Because I’m stupid in love with him.

This show cannot be over soon enough.

My morning doesn’t get much better after that. I can’t eat and I have to force a bottle of water down so I don’t succumb to altitude sickness. Twenty minutes of listening to Marco yammer in my ear about real estate and how he’s dying to be a mountain man later, he calls the crew in for a meeting. I still haven’t gotten to check on Winter .

My fingers wiggle at my side and I bite down on my lip.

“Final date, quiet everyone,” Marco yells. Someone is a jokester and got the man a megaphone.

“Who’s tempting an avalanche now?” I holler back. My voice cracks with nerves.

The crew glares at me. I forgot you’re not supposed to yell avalanche on a snowy mountain. “Sorry,” I offer.

This date isn’t streaming live and much more has gone into production, preparing for the producers to cut into the film and splice it together to make it the most gripping content possible.

“Hey, Cat,” Lexi A. from Alabama says.

“You look so beautiful,” I say when I see her. She’s in a white knit gown laced with beads and sequins that shimmer in the light, like little drops of snowy glitter. The perfect almost-wedding-sweater-dress to get proposed to on top of a mountain.

“Thanks. My stylist picked it out, it’s from her line. She’s still pretty small, but I insisted on wearing it. She could use a boost and I want to do that for her. I heard they’re projecting Super Bowl numbers in terms of viewership.”

“The fact you’re even thinking about that means you’re one of the good guys,” I smile, trying to reassure her, wringing my hands out and pressing my thumb into my wrist where I wish Winter’s heart was. I think I want a tattoo, too.

“Let’s keep in touch after all this. You run a PR business, right?”

“Digital, branding, marketing, whatever you need,” I answer, my head on a swivel looking for Winter. I don’t know where he is but I’m praying he’s still in the tent getting dressed so I can catch him before he comes out. I need to tell him I love him. That’s the only way I’m going to get through this shoot.

“I’ll probably need help after all this.” She looks concerned, but not for herself. She pauses, then goes on, “Cat, I know you and Winter have some sort of understanding. We all do. ”

I suck in a breath, my skin going cold, my empty stomach hallowing out.

“It’s okay,” she puts a hand on my arm to steady me. Am I swaying on my feet? “The world is rooting for you to swoop in and steal the show,” she laughs. “Just so you know, I’m one hundred percent cool with that.” She winks.

Is she telling me to sabotage the finale? Jump in front of cameras and profess my love in front of millions? “Streamflix needs an ending.” I shake my head, warring with my thoughts. My heart in my throat.

“Thing is,” she gently grips my hand, as if she really wants me to hear her, “I’m not so sure I’m the one the viewers want to see him propose to.” She smiles.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and pull my mittens from my back pockets. The temperature is dipping quickly up here. “I have to ask, it’s crazy I know, but I have to ask if I’m going to watch him get down on one knee?—”

“Did I fall for him after three dates with a camera following us around and the world watching?”

I laugh but it’s strained. “Yeah.”

“Not even close. Cat, we’ve all seen the way he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me?” What have they all seen while I’ve been swirling around in my own little snow globe?

“Like he’s hopelessly devoted.” She puts a hand over her heart, swooning, for me. “Maybe not from day one, but even on day one, there was fire between you, no?”

“I guess we didn’t hide it as well as I thought.”

“I’m rooting for you both.” She gives me one last squeeze and walks away when Marco calls her name.

Once she takes her place perched on a log outside the igloo, Marco hollers again, “We need Winter on set! Cat, that’s you!”

Right. Winter is my job, for about two more hours.

I turn on my heel and stomp toward a makeshift wardrobe tent but Robbie pushes through as I’m about to enter. “You ready for this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I fake innocent.

“Cat. We all know . I could smell the lust coming off you two from the jump. Liam and I want to plan a couples trip when this is all over.”

“You got it.” I am clearly a terrible actress. “And I’m happy for you, LiRob. I’ve been rooting for my own ship on this show.” I push through the heavy canvas flap of the tent, and there he is. His back turned to me, in a tuxedo and snow boots.

My heart stops at the sight of him, his hair brushed back from his handsome face, the scruff I’ve gotten beard burn from the past few weeks gone. He looks almost too pretty, I want to ruffle his hair and demand he put on sweatpants.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

The air in the little room littered with camera equipment feels thick, despite the fact we’re at a high altitude. “Why can’t it be you?”

Oh, thank God.

“Winter,” I breathe out, putting a hand to my head to make sure I’m not dreaming. I’m not the only one going through an emotional crisis of the heart today, and that makes me feel better. Merely seeing him after missing him all morning makes me feel better. I want to tell him I love him, but . . . “Of course, it can’t be me.”

“I’m doing this for you, and for Lexi. She deserves an ending that sets her up for success. And Brand Hub needs to fulfill the contract. And, so many reasons. But,” he picks something up, then turns back to me and I see what’s in his hands: the crown. “I want this to be yours. It doesn’t feel right to give it to anyone else. It might not even be mine anymore,” he laughs grimly. “Not sure where family jewels fall when you divorce your parents and your inheritance. ”

“Win,” I put my hand on his wrist and press with my thumb. “You know I don’t care about that.” Deep blue eyes asses me.

“At least everyone will see once and for all that I’m not still a dumb kid, acting out, and uninterested in representing my people. That I’m not a joke. I’m responsible, and I finish what I start. Anker said my people don’t like me, but I’m determined to prove myself. To them, to you, to everyone.”

The walkie on my hip buzzes, Marco’s voice streaming through crackled but clear. “Get your asses out here!”

“Chin up, Win. They’re going to love you.”

He cups my face with both his hands and looks me over intently, searching my face for any hesitation. The rest of my life with this man is so close. I can wait a few more hours. When it’s all over, I’ll scream how much I adore him and whisper all his best qualities in his ear until his cheeks turn red.

“Then we stick to the plan,” he says.

“We stick to the plan,” I repeat.

Winter and I hold hands almost all the way to the igloo, but I pull my hand from his at the last second, right before Robbie’s camera comes into view. Out of habit, or because I can’t stomach the moment, I don’t know.

Almost there.

“Everyone, the happy couple will enjoy their last date in the igloo, then we’ll pan to the arch. They hit their marks, Winter will take a knee, and we let it burn. Since we’re all freezing our asses off up here, let’s get a move on.”

Cameras roll, not only Robbie’s, they’re everywhere today. The sun begins to set turning the glare on the snow into a pinkish golden hour mountain glow. He’s charming without being overly sexual; she’s sweet and devastatingly beautiful without flirting at all. It’s like watching two nice people with zero chemistry on a date. They even feed each other strawberries at Marco’s command, rolling their eyes, laughing at each other, and it’s not romantic in the least. At least, to my eyes .

When they’ve hit all their marks at the igloo and she shivers with cold from over an hour of filming already, Winter drapes a blanket over Lexi’s shoulders as they walk toward the arch. There’s a lot of dialogue that I block out.

A heart made of fire ignites, burning brightly against the snowy landscape, mountains in the background. The visual is passionate and majestic, I can’t ignore that.

Winter takes a knee and his great-great-great-grandmother’s crown is in his hands as he looks up at Lexi, his eyes cutting only once to me.

I nod, chin up. Always chin up.

A hand lands on my shoulder, comforting me, some crew member who probably knows everything—do they all know everything? My pride rears its head, but I stuff it down. Just a little longer. I can take it, then we’ll be home in our gingerbread cabin and this will all be over.

The happy couple embraces, Winter kisses her chastely on the cheek. The crew cheers, we’ve done it, show over.

“So you two, what’s next?” Someone from Streamflix begins interviewing them as they both shiver, a few flurries of snow begin to fall and I’m grinning ear to ear.

He’s mine.

This is the final part of the plan. The part where he says they’ll stay in Garland for another few weeks, getting to know each other without cameras. Then they’ll figure out their next steps. And when that time comes, they’ll announce an amicable breakup.

“I’m headed to Denmark soon, actually,” Winter says, wide smile, bright eyes, and as happy as I’ve ever seen him.

Wait—what?

His words register slowly. I count the snowflakes that land on my black boots as I look to the ground and try to decipher what he just said. He’s going to Denmark?

“Really?” the Streamflix rep asks, looking sharply to Lexi.

She waves his confusion away. “We’ve talked about it, all good with me.”

They’ve talked about it?

This can’t be true.

But really, Winter and I never talked about what would happen after we stuck to the plan. We never said we’d continue living together in the cabin, or if I’d go back to San Francisco, or if he wanted to stay in the States forever or eventually return to Europe. He made me no promises.

And I didn’t press for them. Possibly, because I knew this exact moment was coming. One way, or another. The inevitable moment where I have to take care of myself.

Everything spins, my world shifting abruptly. I can’t hear anything but ringing in my ears and I can’t see past the water in my eyes, cascading down my cheeks, turning cold as I soak them up with my mittens.

Chin up, Bloomfield. Don’t make a scene. Don’t fall to pieces.

He didn’t tell me. He has a plan all his own that I’m not part of. This is why I don’t let myself love, it always hurts in the end.

He places the crown on her head and it’s all a blur as I make my way through snow that feels like quicksand toward the snowmobiles, my feet heavier and heavier with each step.

Against my better judgment, I glance over my shoulder.

Two cameras pull in tight as the happy couple are handed champagne. One of the cameras is Robbie, and I’m grateful he doesn’t spare me a backward glance. Winter and Lexi are pink-cheeked with excitement and cold as people cheer around them, answering more questions being tossed their way.

He’s going back to Denmark and I can’t even be mad. I’m crushed, of course, but this is a positive choice for him. He’s going back to a country I know he loves, probably to sort things out with his family.

“Now, get a shot of them kissing! We haven’t had a kiss yet,” Marco says through the megaphone. “Winter, you’re supposed to be in love, man?—”

“Cat! Where are you going?” Winter’s voice, loud and clear, rings across the outdoor set.

He’s going back to Denmark. For how long? Forever? And he never thought to speak to me about it?

Everything inside me is screaming to protect myself. That somehow, all of this is going to blow up in my face. That I’ve gotten it all wrong and I need to retreat, regroup, prepare, and above all, save myself.

Maybe I am mad.

“Cat, stop!” I knew he’d follow, but it does nothing to stop me from straddling the snowmobile and firing up the motor.

His hand lands on my thigh. “What happened?” he yells over the roar of the machine.

“You have interviews to do, the press tour, the spinoff they’re going to beg you for?—”

“Of course, I’ll say no! Lexi will say no!”

I shake my head, reaching for a helmet. “You’re going to Denmark?”

“I’m abdicating. Elias is fully supportive. I made the decision a few days ago but logistics?—”

“That’s really great, Winter. I’m happy for you.” There’s no life in my voice as it trails off. I can’t look at him.

I let myself go numb, and it’s so much better than feeling.

“Don’t do that,” he demands. “Tell me what’s going on, Cat.”

“I’ve told you everything, and you kept this from me.”

“I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to do this for myself, make the choice, and stop hiding. With you by my side .”

“You didn’t trust me enough to tell me any of this, Winter. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“You know more than my entire country at this point. I’ve only just decided to support Elias. He’s scheduling an announcement with his team and sending me travel details today. Of course, I was going to talk to you about it.”

Maybe so, but it’s too late. It hurts too much.

“I just need some time, okay? Let’s just take some time to think. Regroup. I need to think.” I shake my head. My instincts screaming to protect myself.

“I don’t want you to leave this way. Don’t leave, Cat.”

“Winter! We need you on set for interviews!” Marco’s voice rings across snow, the entire crew is staring at us from up the mountain. “This heart isn’t going to burn forever!”

I push him away and force myself to look him in the eyes when I say, “Go, finish what you started.”

With that, I press on the gas, and I’m gone.

The snowmobile gets me as far as Little Star Lodge. I pull it right up to the post where Winter tied his horse the first day we started this whole mess of a show.

Inside, Darcy is at the front desk and I march up to her, shoulders back, head up, unabashed tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes on full display. “I need a car.”

“What’s wrong?” She drops everything and rounds the desk to pull me into her petite frame.

“I’m not okay.” I shake my head and sniff as she rubs my back. “I’m bad. I’m terrible, I’m—” but I can’t finish because I’m sobbing. I’m not sure what I just did was strong. Maybe it was weak. Maybe I’m the weakest person I know and all my fears are coming to a head.

Even if he was going to spring this on me tonight, Denmark? No, we were destined for this end from the start, I just didn’t want to see it.

Guests in the lodge stare.

“I got you, honey. Liam!” Darcy yells, across the entry and through the bar. She doesn’t seem to care that we’re causing a scene in her inn and that thaws my frozen insides a little. I’m leaning on her right now, physically, because I have to. If I don’t, I’m going to crash and burn right here at the front desk.

“What’s up?” Liam comes running from The Nook, black tie swinging as he jogs toward us. I guess it’s all over, isn’t it? No more fancy tree outside, no more Christmas cookies, no more snowman tie. No more show. No more Winter. “Cat, are you okay?”

“She’s not okay, Einstein.” I’ve never heard Darcy utter a sarcastic word, I must really be scaring her. “Said she needs a car.”

“I want to go to Frannie’s,” I sniff and hiccup. This is why I don’t cry. It’s downright demoralizing. “Can I borrow yours?”

“I’ll drive you,” Liam says firmly. “Someone will need to help out in the restaurant,” he says to Darcy but she waves him away.

“Don’t worry about that, just go. Get our girl there safe and sound. And don’t speed, the roads are bad.”

He nods once, and I’m gently transferred from Darcy’s shoulder to Liam’s.

He pulls me out into the cold.