It’s also devastating.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

JACE

The boat trip ends sooner than I’d like, and we disembark onto dry land.

“I might now be a fan of sailing,” I inform Viv. “Because that was an entirely different experience than the last time.”

“So you wouldn’t go out on a smaller boat again?” Viv asks, arching an eyebrow.

“With you sailing it? No.”

Viv rolls her eyes.

“This trip was an effortless glide. Last time was all…” I attempt to mimic the flapping motion Viv did to the sails to return us to shore, and she bursts out laughing. I laugh with her, relieved to hear the sound. She’s been more reserved since I mentioned my upcoming date with Miss South Carolina. I’m still not sure why I told her. I felt obligated to, which is incredibly stupid considering Viv is currently engaged to someone else.

We turn the corner around the boathouse, and Viv abruptly stops laughing. I follow her gaze. As though I’ve conjured him with my thoughts, I see a blond guy who I’m certain is Charles Vanderbilt standing in front of us. His brown eyes bounce between me and Viv as we both stop walking.

“You’re Jace Dawson,” he states.

“Sure am,” I breeze, surveying his pressed shorts and polo shirt. “And you are?” I add, just to be a jerk. I’m not going to admit to having seen tabloid photos of the guy. Plus, I’m feeling confrontational.

A flash of annoyance crosses the guy’s face. Viv gives me a quick glance but doesn’t say anything. I quirk an eyebrow at her.

A muscle jumps in the guy’s jaw as he witnesses our exchange. “I’m Charles Vanderbilt,” he announces. “The Princess’s fiancé.”

I’m certain I would find it impossible to like any guy Viv was engaged to, but Charles certainly isn’t doing himself any favors.

“Thanks for that clarification,” I respond. “Because I know a lot of Charles Vanderbilts, and I really wasn’t sure which one you…” This time Viv does intercede, swatting me on the arm.

“Jace,” she hisses.

“Oh, I’m sure you just assumed I hadn’t heard your name before,” I continue, enjoying watching Charles’s face darken with anger. Viv glares at me, but it also looks like she’s trying not to laugh.

Vivienne’s parents round the corner after us, and Charles’s haughty glower falters.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness,” he greets, bowing.

“Charles!” Vivienne’s mother greets. “I didn’t realize Vivienne was expecting you.” She shoots Viv a questioning glance.

I take a great deal of pleasure in the uncomfortable expression that crosses Charles’s face.

“She wasn’t,” he admits. “I just thought I would stop by and check on her before the interview tomorrow. One of the butlers said she was down here.”

“Oh,” Evelyn replies. “That was considerate.”

Or overbearing.

We all stand in awkward silence for a protracted moment. No one seems to know what to say.

“Robert, I’d love to take a look at that catamaran now,” I finally offer.

He spent the latter half of the trip describing all his boats to me while Viv rolled her eyes at the lengthy descriptions.