Especially if you’re as athletically challenged as I am.
Jogging the half-mile back to the cottage is enough to leave me gasping for air. I cling to the doorknob for a moment, fighting for a deeper breath and cursing my drippy nose.
I wasn’t lying to Jeffrey, at least not entirely.
I have been fighting a case of the sniffles.
Maybe it’s allergies—the spring flowers are bursting out all over the mountains, turning every Alpine hillside into a work of art—but it might also be a cold. I’m sure my immune system isn’t functioning at peak performance levels. I’ve been working day and night to finish my collection in time to meet the submission deadline. I’m exhausted, physically and psychologically drained, and my fingers are so bruised that simply looking at a beading needle is enough to make them ache.
But I’m nearly done. I just have to power through for a few more days, and then I can rest and recuperate.
But first I have to get the hell out of here.
“Thank you, Jeffrey,” I mutter as I wedge the crooked key into the lock and jiggle my way inside. “Thank you for the joy of packing up and finding another place to work right when I’d sorted out the toaster oven.”
Toaster ovens are trickier than I expected.
Cooking for myself is a challenge I hadn’t bargained for when I packed my bags for my first solo trip out into the big wide world…ever.
I’m not your typical spoiled princess—my parents have been on the verge of financial ruin more times than I can count, and my childhood home is literally falling down around us—but somehow Mother and Father have always managed to afford a cook. Steady work is hard to come by in our village, so I’m sure that’s part of it, but with Rafe’s mother, Regina, love also played a role. She loved my sisters and me and wanted to make sure we grew up eating healthy meals.
Not for the first time, I wonder if she would still love me if Rafe and I hadn’t kept our relationship secret and she knew I was the one who broke her son’s heart years ago, but I put the thought out of my head.
I did what was best for Rafe. He went on to become a decorated military officer and to marry a lovely woman and start a family. And now I’ll do what’s best for my sisters and my parents, and when December comes, I’ll face my birthday with a clear conscience.
Coughing into a fresh tissue, I finish packing and pull out my cell, placing a call to Zan as I do a final sweep of the cottage to make sure I haven’t forgotten my phone charger, my favorite scissors, my head, or any other necessary supplies.
I expect to be sent to voicemail—Zan is a very busy woman—but she picks up on the second ring.
“Hello there, you. What’s up?” she asks in a sweeter-than-usual voice. Zan is a wonderful person, but “sweet” isn’t usually her thing. She shows her love with honesty, integrity, and fierce, occasionally painful, displays of devotion. “How are you holding up? Decided to give Prince Assface the boot yet?”
“Well, I…” I break off with another cough, hacking until I’m so winded I collapse into an armchair by the window to catch my breath. “Sorry. I’m a little under the weather.”
“Right,” Zan says dryly. “You know you only get sick when you’re sad.”
“That’s not true.” I fight back another cough, swallowing. “I also get sick when I work too hard.”
“You’re working? Are the Von Bergens okay with that? I assumed you’d be so busy with the engagement extravaganza that you wouldn’t have a moment to yourself. That’s part of the reason I haven’t called to check in.”
I pluck at a loose thread on the chair’s seat. “And because you think arranged marriages are awful.”
“Nightmarish is a better word. Or horrific. Antiquated, barbaric, offensive, and foul also work.”
I smile. “I love you dearly.”
“Same,” she says brusquely. “Say the word, and I’ll be on the first plane to Baden Bergen to spring you from your tower.”
“That’s very sweet.” I take a deep breath. I’ve done my best to keep my schemes to myself, but I’m running out of options. It’s time to come clean with Zan and hope she can be trusted to keep this secret the way she’s kept all my others. “But I’m not in Baden Bergen. Sabrina is.”
“What?” Zan asks flatly.
“Sabrina is in Baden Bergen, pretending to me, and I’m in Islip Downs, pretending to be her on vacation.”
“What?” There’s a squawking sound and then a rattle as if the phone has been dropped. Shortly after that, Zan comes back on the line, “Who thought that was a good idea? Are you both out of your minds?”
“No. And I’ll explain, but first, I need to tell you something important.” I lean back, gazing through the blue chintz curtains at the gravel lane outside. It’s still empty, but I’m not sure how much time I have left. “I just ran into Jeffrey Von Bergen in a coffee shop. I introduced myself as Sabrina, but he didn’t believe me. I think he’s here looking for me, to prove Sabrina and I switched places and to make sure our plan blows up in our faces.”