What about London? Bethany had never met Johanna’s son. She had met York once, a very long time ago. But there was a reason why Bethany had always declined to meet with London. She had had a crush on him since she was a little girl, and she had spotted his picture in Johanna’s home back in America. After that, London Warwick had become sort of like the impossible yardstick with which Bethany compared other men.
They weren’t as tall as London.
They weren’t as muscular as him.
None were smart like him.
London might have been a dragon who had an impossible amount of college degrees under his belt, but he wrote historical papers that were riveting. Bethany had tried to study history, but as it turns out, it was only London Warwick who could make history come alive.
Probably because he had been present during some of it.
Her college history professors had been dull, old talking mothballs who made her fall asleep in class. Her plans to get a Ph.D. in history and work with London, where he would fall madly in love with her, had been foiled pretty quickly into her college career. She had had to change her major to something more exciting and in line with her natural talent.
“What about London?” She schooled her features into a dispassionate mask.
Johanna’s graceful face was pulled into a small smile. “Well, he’s gotten himself in a bit of trouble.”
Oh, Bethany knew that. The tabloids had been particularly vicious lately, reporting on London’s string—upon string, upon string—of conquests. Every time Bethany saw a headline with London’s name on it, attached to some model or actress, she felt a piece of her heart die.
And the man didn’t even know she existed. How pathetic was she?
“Has he?” Her voice squeaked out, making Johanna’s smile widen.
“You’ve seen the tabloids then.”
Bethany gave her a head nod, not trusting herself.
“Well, it’s just horrible. What that boy needs is a tight slap behind the head and to settle down. But how is he supposed to find a good woman to start his life with if he’s always off being a playboy?” She shook her head. “It won’t do. I don’t know what it is about my sons, and why they refuse to settle down and have families. I don’t know if I should blame my Alfonse and I. We gave them so many responsibilities, and so young. It was how it was done back then. Do you understand? You gave your heir your business, and you set up the others in lucrative ventures so that they could become their own men, with their own fortunes. That’s what we did. And for what? To have three grown sons who are perfectly content being bachelors? It won’t do, Bethany.”
Johanna had been slowly slipping into her past and her memories, but she was back at attention with a sly slide of her eyes toward Bethany.
“That’s where you come in, dear. London is the wildest of the bunch. It makes sense, as he is the youngest. You’d think Paris, as the artist, would be the philanderer, but no. It has to be our baby boy.”
The problem was that Bethany didn’t have the heart to tell Johanna that she couldn’t do this job. It would be like asking the universe to break her heart over and over again. She could be a grown-up about it, bury her dumb crush deep down inside of herself and help out Johanna.
That would be the best thing to do.
This could be the kind of thing that drummed up business for her one-woman PR company.
“You’re really the only person I would trust with this,” Johanna added. There was a fraction of a second where the older woman’s eyes glazed over with painful worry.
It seriously messed with Bethany’s heart.
“I’ll help you, Johanna. Of course, I will.”
Johanna took her hands in hers and gave it a good squeeze. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. Really. London will be in such good hands with you.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I would like for him to plan a benefit for a good cause. Something that can be linked to his latest exhibit at the museum. And of course, you would have to be his date for the event. I wouldn’t have him bring his flavor of the week to this dignified event and ruin all of our—your hard work.”
Bethany felt her cheeks heat. “Are you basically asking me to be your son’s date to a benefit I am planning in your family’s name?”
Johanna’s smile was small, but it was full of mischief. “Yes,” was the graceful answer with a head nod.
“But,” Bethany shook her head. “Surely, you know what that will look like. It’ll look like I’m dating him. And quite seriously, too, if I’m made to plan the event.”
“Precisely. It will help me find him an appropriate match in the meantime.”
Bethany licked her lips. “So you want me to make-believe date your son so that he can be a more respectable prospect for his future wife?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
All the air was out of the room, and Bethany’s vision was blurring. It was an impossible task. She knew she should say no right then and there. There was no way London Warwick would be okay with this plan. Bethany looked nothing like the women he seemed to gravitate toward. Who would even believe he could fall for the likes of her?
“I’ll pay you, of course. I am coming to you as a friend, but I also value your expertise. I’ll double your regular fee, and also cover all expenses.”
That was hardly necessary. Bethany wasn’t exactly hurting for cash, but whatever inheritance she would have had from her mother’s death was locked in a trust that she shared with her stepfather. Living in the city of London was expensive. She still needed to share a flat. Rent was exorbitant in central London. It would have been nothing for Leonard Humphreys to pay for the rent, but that was too much to ask, and Bethany knew that. She also knew that there was no way she was ever living with her stepdad again.
She had been at his side when the police investigated her mother’s suspicious death, but she hadn’t been so sure of his innocence.
Especially not when he had married Lucille St. Louis three months after her mother’s funeral.
“Dear?” Johanna asked, pulling Bethany from her thoughts. “Are you all right?”
Bethany plastered a smile on her face. “Yes, of course. Sorry, Johanna. This is a lot to ask of me… I’m not sure I’m the right fit for this kind of endeavor.”
“Of course you are, Bethany.” Johanna squeezed her hand. “I have every faith in you.”
Bethany gulped and inhaled deeply. “I’ll try my best.”
“Then we are sure to win.”
Bethany didn’t know why Johanna had chosen those particular words, but there was nothing to win.
Was there?
She had the distinct impression that she had stepped into something much bigger than she could anticipate. What had she gotten herself into?
Chapter Four
Bethany
Bethany was laying it on thick, and she knew it.
She had picked her outfit with a lot of thought. Thankfully, her best friend and flat mate, Eugenie, had been there to help Bethany rein in her absolute terror. They had settled on a high-waisted black pencil skirt, paired with a soft pink silk blouse and matching high heels. Her stockings matched her skin tone, but they were definitely tied to garters.