Family Business Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

  Darby Creek

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  241 First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 USA

  For reading levels and more information, look up this title at www.lernerbooks.com.

  Cover and interior images: Igor Klimov/Shutterstock.com (background texture); GoMixer/Shutterstock.com (coat of arms and lion); KazanovskyAndrey/iStock/Getty Images Plus (gold); mona redshinestudio/Shutterstock.com (crown).

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.5. Typeface provided by Adobe Systems.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Acton, Vanessa, author.

  Title: Family business / Vanessa Acton.

  Description: Minneapolis : Darby Creek, [2018] | Series: Suddenly royal | Summary: Mel, seventeen, has always wondered about her father, but is surprised to learn he is a member of the Evonian nobility and that he wants her to visit him and his family.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018001958 (print) | LCCN 2018009462 (ebook) | ISBN 9781541525948 (eb pdf) | ISBN 9781541525689 (lb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781541526372 (pb : alk. paper)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Nobility—Fiction. | Fathers and daughters—Fiction. | Stepmothers—Fiction. | Identity—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.A228 (ebook) | LCC PZ7.1.A228 Fam 2018 (print) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018001958

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1-44552-35483-4/2/2018

  9781541531338 mobi

  9781541531345 ePub

  9781541531352 ePub

  to A.J., for fixing all the words

  1

  Mel was cleaning up her mom’s room when she found the letter. Her mom was on a date with What’s His Name. (Mel knew his name was Todd but didn’t like to admit she was paying any attention to her mom’s dating life.) Since Mel herself hadn’t made any plans that night, she decided to do what she usually did when she was annoyed at her mom: clean up after her.

  So there Mel was at nine o’clock on the first Tuesday in June, rummaging through her mom’s dresser. She knew she was probably overstepping, but the dresser desperately needed to be straightened up. Every drawer was crammed with makeup, jewelry, clothes, receipts, tax documents . . .

  As Mel reached to the very back of the middle drawer, she found an envelope pinned behind a jumble of underwear. When her fingers brushed the paper, Mel thought it might be a bill. One of the credit card companies still sent paper statements, which was actually kind of nice because her mom often forgot to check the balance online.

  Mel got hold of the edge of the bill and dragged it to freedom. But it wasn’t a bill—it was a letter. And it was addressed to Ms. Rebecca Novak, Mel’s mom, in elegant script that Mel could barely read. An elaborate return address label sat on the envelope’s top left corner:

  Sir Jasper Valmont

  33 Darnley Place

  Alaborn, Evonia 05550 EV

  Evonia? Where was that? Some alternate universe where people still sent written letters instead of emails?

  Curious, Mel turned over the envelope. It had already been opened. Mel found herself pulling out the letter. And then unfolding it. And then reading the handwritten message on it.

  Dear Becca,

  I wanted to say this last week, but I couldn’t find the words. I’m so sorry that things had to end this way—sorry that they had to end at all. These last three years have meant so much to me, and I’ll never forget you. Of course, you have every right to be angry. This is unfair to you in so many ways. I hope someday you’ll forgive me. But mostly I hope you’ll find happiness. You deserve it more than anyone I know.

  With love,

  Jasper

  There was a date in the top corner of the page. The letter had been written the year before Mel was born. In fact—Mel did some quick counting—eight months before she was born.

  Mel took a deep, shaky breath. Her mom’s story had always been the same. My twenties were pretty wild. I don’t know who your dad was. But I can guarantee that he wasn’t someone you’d want to meet.

  But here was this guy, Jasper, talking about being in a relationship with Mel’s mom for three years. And he’d broken up with her right after Mel’s mom would’ve gotten pregnant. Of course it was possible that Mel’s mom had cheated on this guy. But if that had happened, Jasper didn’t seem to have known about it. His letter made it clear that he didn’t blame Mel’s mom for the breakup.

  Besides, Mel knew her mom well enough to know that she wasn’t a good enough multi-tasker to juggle more than one guy at a time. These days she could barely manage to fit Todd into her schedule. Though she did keep dropping hints about wanting Mel to meet him. Just the idea made Mel grimace. What’s His Name sounded like a fine guy, but her mom’s relationships usually only lasted a few months. Mel didn’t see much point in getting to know someone who would probably be gone soon. She didn’t need a father-figure replacement in her life anymore.

  On the other hand, if her actual father entered the picture . . . well, that would be different.

  ***

  When Mel’s mom came home that night, Mel was sprawled on the living room couch, pretending to watch TV. “Hey, Mom. How was your night?”

  Her mom beamed at her. “It was lovely! I can’t wait for you to meet Todd, I know you’ll hit it off—”

  Mel cleared her throat to cut off her mom. She really didn’t want to hear about What’s His Name right now. “Um, yeah, so, here’s the thing. You know how you asked me to vacuum? Well, I did, and—”

  “Oh, thanks, honey. I would’ve done it myself, but between work and tonight’s plans I just completely ran out of—”

  “I also decided to straighten up some other stuff while I was at it, and . . . I found this.” Mel held up the letter. “I know I probably shouldn’t have read it, but . . .”

  The color drained from her mom’s face as she took the letter from Mel’s hands.

  “Oh . . . oh, Mel. I—wow, I didn’t even realize I still had this letter.”

  “So this Jasper Valmont . . . would you say he’s, um, a strong candidate for being my dad?”

  Mel’s mom collapsed onto the couch and swore softly under her breath. “This is not how I wanted you to find out about him.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner. It just didn’t seem like a burden you needed to carry.”

  “That sounds like a yes.”

  Her mom let out a rough sigh. “Jasper Valmont is definitely your father, sweetheart.”

  Mel had thought that hearing her mom confirm it would come as a relief. But instead she just felt more tense and agitated than ever. Her mom had been lying to her all these years. “And you never told me about this because . . .?”

  “Because—okay, just bear with me here. Jasper is from Evonia, which is—”

  “A tiny country in Europe,” Mel cut in. She held up her phone. “I looked it up while I was waiting for you to get home. I didn’t know you’d ever been to Europe.”

  “I haven’t. Jasper and I met while he was going to grad school in the States. We were together for a few years, but eventually he broke things off because his parents didn’t approve of me. He made the decision very suddenly and moved back to Evonia right af
ter the breakup. I was so angry—so blindsided, honestly—that I cut off contact with him completely. Then, right after that, I realized I was pregnant, but I decided not to tell him. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to trap him into staying with me. His parents definitely would’ve assumed I was some kind of gold digger who wanted him to marry me. And at that point, I didn’t even want to speak to him again. So I didn’t.”

  “Not even after you got that letter,” Mel said quietly.

  “Especially not after I got the letter.” Her mom’s tone twisted with bitterness. “This is the most halfhearted, self-serving . . . ugh.”

  Mel picked at a loose thread on the couch cushion. “I mean, I thought it was kinda romantic.”

  Her mom shook her head and tossed the letter onto the cluttered coffee table a little more forcefully than necessary. “It’s the kind of apology people write when they want to make themselves feel better. He knew what he was doing when he ended things. He knew he was being cowardly. Apologizing for it after the fact isn’t worth much.”

  Mel wasn’t sure she agreed, but she had so many other questions she wanted her mom to answer that it wasn’t worth arguing over now. “So why didn’t his parents approve of you?”

  Mel’s mom heaved another sigh. “Because they’re royalty.”

  “Yeah,” said Mel flatly, waving her phone in the air again. “I came across that little tidbit too.”

  2

  Jasper Valmont was not a very common name. Mel had found him online immediately. He was a middle-aged guy, good-looking in a low-key way, with the same hair color, eye color, and face shape as Mel. He lived in Evonia, sat on the board of several nonprofit organizations Mel had never heard of, and seemed to be married. In several of the photos floating around online, he was with the same very pretty woman. A woman who looked as if she’d never seen a mess in her life, much less made one.

  While she was initially surprised by her father’s status, a few more internet searches had given Mel enough of a basic understanding of the Evonian royal family to know that—barring some major disasters—she wasn’t in danger of becoming the daughter of a king. Jasper Valmont was the great-nephew of Evonia’s queen. The queen didn’t have any political power, but she and her relatives were wealthy, famous in their home country, and extremely fond of tradition.

  Mel’s mom picked up where Mel’s research had left off. Jasper’s parents had wanted him to marry someone of a similar background—upper class, part of a noble family. Rebecca Novak, an American nursing student, didn’t fit the bill.

  “And you’re sure they wouldn’t have changed their minds if they’d known about me?” Mel pressed. She was trying very hard to be mature about this—resisting the urge to yell at her mom for keeping such a huge secret from her. But she knew her voice already had an edge to it that gave away how angry she was.

  “They wouldn’t have changed their minds about me,” Mel’s mom said firmly. “They might have decided Jasper and I should get married, but they wouldn’t have been happy about it. And I didn’t necessarily want to marry Jasper, even before he caved to his parents’ demands and treated me like dirt.”

  Mel wrinkled her nose. “But you just explained how you felt and what you wanted. What about me? Didn’t it ever occur you to that I might want a relationship with my dad? Like when I was little and I asked you a zillion times if you had any guesses about who he was? Or in elementary school when I went through that phase of telling my friends that my dad was a spy who was always away on secret missions? Or—”

  “I admit I probably should’ve said something sooner. I just wanted to wait until you were old enough to . . .” Her mom trailed off.

  “Old enough to what? Not care about it?” Mel’s voice rose. Her not-yelling plan was unraveling fast.

  Mel’s mom opened her mouth, then closed it and clenched her jaw. “Old enough to not be crushed if you reached out to him and he didn’t want anything to do with you.”

  Mel’s stomach did a long, slow, painful roll. “So you don’t think he would want to know about me?”

  “I honestly have no idea, Mel. I haven’t been in touch with him in almost eighteen years. I don’t know if he’s still the person I remember. Maybe he would want to be in contact with you. I just want you to be prepared for the possibility that he wouldn’t.”

  Mel reached over and picked up the letter her mom had left on the coffee table. The guy who’d written this letter had seemed genuinely pained about the breakup—had seemed to really want to do the right thing. She had a hard time believing that this guy would brush her off if he found out about her.

  “If you do want to try to get in touch with him, I’m not going to stop you,” her mom went on. Her voice was weary. “I can probably even get you his old email address if I dig back far enough. While we were together, we used to email whenever he went back to visit Evonia. I don’t know if the address still works, but—”

  “I’d like to try it,” Mel said instantly.

  “Okay. Tomorrow. After we’ve both gotten some sleep.”

  ***

  The next morning, Mel paced from one end of her bedroom to the other while her best friends, Savannah and Elise, stood at her desk staring at her laptop. They were reading the email Mel had drafted. After spending forty minutes typing variations of “Hello, Sir Jasper, my name is Melissa Novak,” Mel had finally pounded out a full message.

  After explaining that Rebecca Novak was her mother and they were pretty sure he was her father, she covered the other bases: I’m attaching a scanned copy of the letter you wrote to my mom a few months before I was born, plus a photo of myself so you can see what I look like. I’d be happy to have a paternity test done if you feel you need proof of our relationship. I’m not looking for money. Neither is my mom. I just thought I’d let you know I’m out here, in case you’d like to be in touch with me.

  Savannah and Elise had clearly read through the draft several times by now. But they still hadn’t said anything. “What do you think?” Mel finally burst out.

  “I think it’s good,” said Savannah. “No typos.”

  “I think you should attach more photos,” Elise suggested. “So he knows you didn’t just find some random internet photo of a girl who looks like him.”

  “Good point,” said Mel. She stopped pacing and stood directly behind them, facing her laptop screen. “But it doesn’t sound sketchy or anything?”

  “It sounds very legit,” Elise assured her.

  “Cool, cool. I’ll add some more photos and then I’ll—”

  “Just go ahead and send it now,” said Savannah. “You can always send him more stuff later if he asks for it.”

  “If he responds at all, you mean.”

  “You don’t think he will?” asked Elise.

  Mel shrugged, trying to look casual. “My mom doesn’t think he will. I can tell.”

  “Well, I understand why she feels that way,” said Elise. “This dude dumped her because she wasn’t from a rich, important family.”

  “Yeah, but she’s the one who lied to me about it.” Mel knew she sounded bitter and could tell that her friends weren’t sure how to react. They were used to hearing Mel complain about her mom, but they’d never seen her get truly furious at her mom before.

  “Yeah,” sighed Savannah. “But I mean, if he’s trash, I kind of don’t blame her.”

  “He’s not trash,” Mel snapped. “I can tell, okay?”

  “It’s his parents who are trash, right?” added Elise. “Lord and Lady Blah-Blah-Blah pressured him into breaking up with your mom.”

  “Sir Reginald Strathney and Lady Cecily Valmont,” Mel recited, nodding. “Yeah. They’re the ones who are really to blame.”

  “If his dad’s last name is Strathney, how come his last name is Valmont?” asked Elise.

  Mel shrugged. “My mom said it has something to do with the royal name being passed down through every branch of the family.” She’d thought about last names a lot in the past twelve h
ours. Thought about what it would’ve been like to be Melissa Valmont instead of Melissa Novak.

  “Okay, focus,” said Savannah. “Send the email first, then get hung up on his family’s weird naming conventions.”

  “Right. Okay.” Mel sat down and stared at her message, the cursor hovering over SEND, her finger inches from the touch pad. Seconds ticked by.

  Finally Savannah gently bumped Mel’s hand. “There! Done. Now all you can do is wait.”

  ***

  She didn’t have to wait long. A response was in her inbox the next morning.

  Hello Melissa,

  Well, this is certainly a surprise. Thank you for your email and the photo. I do clearly see the family resemblance, and everything about the timeline adds up. I don’t believe a paternity test will be necessary. In return, I’ve attached a recent picture of me with my wife, Rosalie, and our two daughters. Jocelyn is twelve and Jessica is ten . . .

  Mel immediately clicked on the attachment. And there they were, posing in some sort of fancy garden: Jasper, the pretty dark-haired lady, and two girls who looked eerily like Mel. The older one had thick bangs that Mel knew the girl would regret in a few years, and the younger one had more freckles than Mel had ever seen on one person. But other than that, they could’ve been younger versions of Mel. Jocelyn and Jessica—he gave them both “J” names, she found herself thinking. That’s . . . cute, I guess?

  After staring at the girls for a minute, she went back to reading the email:

  I’m sure you have countless questions. I’d be happy to talk with you over the phone or via video chat. I believe we’re about seven hours ahead of you . . .

  Mel skimmed down to the end of the email, her eyes landing on the signature.

  Sincerely,

  Jasper

  Mel exhaled slowly. Somehow this didn’t feel as momentous as she’d expected. It wasn’t a letdown, exactly, but she’d been hoping for . . . well, she wasn’t sure what. He believed that she was his daughter, and he wanted to talk to her. In fact, he was being amazingly chill about this whole situation. Shouldn’t that be more than enough to satisfy her?