– Dedication –
I dedicate this romance to my better half, Jamie, for his support of this book and my dreams.
Chapter 1
FREYA
I WILLED IT to rain.
If it rained, I could cancel my run without guilt, and head home to curl up with a good book. Since graduating a year ago, I was relishing the time I had to read books I actually wanted to read. It felt like forever since I had picked up a novel and lost myself in another world. Not that my own world was that bad; in fact, the world was just starting to open up to me.
That’s why I was in the café – I was researching travel options so that I wouldn’t have to use a book to escape anymore. I had finished four long years of a design degree and I couldn’t wait to leave Boston behind me for a few months backpacking around Europe. Between studying full-time and working long hours in the family business to fund my studies, I felt like I’d been stuck behind a desk forever, even though I was only twenty-three. Images of sandy beaches, winding medieval alleyways, galleries with portraits I had only seen in books or online, and majestic ancient buildings flooded my screen. It had been my dream to visit Europe for as long as I could remember, and I had only a few more weeks of work to go before I could finally think about actually booking a flight, throwing the essentials into a backpack, and setting off.
I topped up my herbal tea with hot water and looked around. I would miss this place. It was my safe haven. Antoinette’s was a tiny café tucked down a quiet street; it was so cozy that it was almost possible to forget you were in the city. It barely sat a dozen customers inside and about four on the small patio, and those who did find a seat tended to stay a while. Antoinette, the owner, moved between her customers topping up mugs, serving the most amazing food, and making the kind of nosy queries that might have lost a less charismatic hostess her clientele. She knew everything about everyone who passed through the door.
Right now, Antoinette was doing her absolute best to find me a man. She prided herself on her matchmaking skills, and a recent successful endeavor with pairing up her niece had filled her with confidence and renewed her determination to find my Prince Charming. Already today she had subtly sniffed out two potential partners from the various customers and gestured to me to assess them with a thumbs up or a thumbs down. I pretended to check them each over and then shook my head, resulting in a frustrated shrug and something muttered in French that I couldn’t quite make out.
My phone vibrated its way across the painted wooden table, moving closer to me as though asking to be picked up. I sighed and dragged my eyes away from the Irish village on the screen and picked up the phone.
“Freya? Come home, you aren’t going to believe what has happened!” a panicked voice cried.
“What’s up? I’m kinda busy…” my tone probably gave away the fact that I was fed up with my sister’s tendency to dramatize the trivial. I was used to Beatrix’s melodramatic calls, and I was quite happy where I was, thank you very much.
“Oh God, can you just drop whatever you are doing and get over here?” she begged.
“Come on, just tell me. What’s going on?” I sighed, draining my teacup and packing away my laptop.
“It’s an absolute nightmare. Just come over! I can’t explain on the phone!” She hung up. I had a feeling that this was more than the usual design issue that she wanted me to sort out. The phone flashed into life again, and I answered it instantly.
“Beatrix?” I asked, worried now.
“Mom and Dad are fine, I mean, there’s nothing wrong like that… No need to panic!” she reassured me.
“So, what’s going on?” I asked again as I started to stand up.
“Just get over here!” she half-shouted, exasperated. It seemed to me like she could have explained whatever new disaster had befallen in the time this all took, but I knew better than to argue with her when she was like this.
I looked outside and saw the first few spots of rain starting to fall. No run for me this evening! Then again, that meant I needed a taxi, and that could be easier said than done.
As I walked out, a man held open the door for me, for a second I regretted leaving as I might have taken Antoinette up on her matchmaking offer. He was dark and tall with blue eyes that twinkled as he gave me the once over. As I thanked him for holding the door, I thought I detected an accent in the way he said, “My pleasure.”
I made my way along the street while scanning for cabs, huddling under my coat, and at the same time wracking my brain for potential causes of my sister’s outburst.
My family ran Dynasty Games. It was a moderately successful app company that grew out of my parents’ business, which had originally made traditional physical board games. It wasn’t a change I loved, but Beatrix was passionate about all things app. My argument had always been that a game on a screen could never match the memories I had of the family sitting around playing board games together or rather testing out Dad’s latest invention. Apps were the future, though, and Dad’s old games had been swept away in a rush of action games, strategy games, and games that were so addicting that they regularly made people walk into lamp posts. It was a brave new world of virtual reality and in-app purchases, and while I was out of touch with the mindset that allowed people to pay real money for imaginary things they could use in an imaginary world, I was also in awe of it.
I have to admit I did enjoy my time spent at the studio. Dad was the creative force, coming up with new game ideas, albeit with little idea of how his concept would translate into an on-screen app. I was in charge of working out how to make his ideas look good while Beatrix worked with Dad to refine his ideas and worked with a couple of full-time on-site coders, while Mom ran the office and made sure the bills were paid. We also had a large number of devoted testers who gave feedback.
When things were going smoothly, we were a well-oiled machine, churning out quirky little games and expansions that people seemed to love in a way that the bigger game companies just couldn’t match. Of course, financially, it was a tough market. Being a small fish in a big pond was great for creativity but less healthy for the bank balance. It was a relief when a series of successful small projects led to a few awards and some interest being shown in the company from some of the bigger players in the industry. Lately, tension had been high as we prepared to launch our biggest venture yet, a project that would either make or break Dynasty Games. However, despite the added pressure I found my attention increasingly drawn to the world beyond my parents’ home studio and Beatrix’s constant stream of improvements. Once this new game was launched, I was free. Free to explore the world beyond Boston, beyond the family business, and beyond my own comfort zone. I felt a knot of excitement in my stomach as I thought about it, which was quickly replaced by a lump of anxiety over Beatrix’s mysterious call.
I frantically waved down a cab. It pulled up and soon I was on my way to Dynasty Games Ltd., also known as Mom and Dad’s place. I might have been totally ready to move on to new things, but I had an uneasy feeling that all my grand plans might have to be put on hold.
***
My parents could never bear to move from their comfortable suburban neighborhood, where they had lived for almost thirty years and raised two daughters. So instead of commuting to work each day, they decided that work could come to them. They built a studio at the end of their huge garden, and it quickly became the hub of the company. The studio had become my second home; it was where I worked, where I avoided my studies, and where I would inevitably find my parents and sister. As it was always unbearably warm inside, even in the cool spring air, the windows and sliding glass doors were kept open a lot, so the whole workspace blended into my parents’ real pride and joy – their garden, filled with flowers and shady trees and a lawn that was free of dandelions all year long. As I fumbled some money in the direction of the cab driver once we reached the house, I could hear raised voices through the open doors. I hurried towards the studio, taking a deep breath.