How could he fear a false narrative when he’d seen for himself how foolish it was to get Riley and her work wrong?
“Fuck.” She covered her eyes with her hand. “I don’t want to be, but I’m embarrassed.”
“It’s all right.” He crouched beside her. “Trial and error, right? It’s all part of the process.”
“This is the second ritual I’ve gotten wrong.”
“Well, I can’t say I minded with the last one,” Clark said, trying to make her smile.
It didn’t work.
“I’m supposed to be a professional,” she said softly, “an expert,” playing back his words to her earlier.
“You are.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Don’t let a bunch of random people get in your head.”
“It’s not just them.” Riley bit her lip. “I’ve never done this before.”
Clark wrapped his arms around her until she sagged against him.
“What? Broken a curse?”
“No,” she said into his chest. “Fallen in love. How many more times am I allowed to get it wrong before you lose faith in me?”
He ran his hand over her hair. “Oh, my darling.”
She pulled back just a little. “That’s the first time you’ve called me an endearment that wasn’t meant as an insult.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it.”
Considering what had happened with her father, Clark was disappointed though not surprised to find Riley believed his support for her was fragile.
“Okay, that’s it.” He stepped back so she could see him properly. “I need to tell you something. I’m not sure I’ll ever fully believe in curses. It doesn’t matter how much I observe or experience, there will always be a tiny part of my mind that’s looking for alternate explanations.”
“What?” Riley frowned. “Then what are we doing here? Why did you say all that stuff to your dad about being open and then campaign to invite all those people out there to witness—”
“I believe in you,” he cut in. “In your ingenuity, your problem-solving, your courage and commitment.” He stroked her cheek. “In your big heart and impossibly hard head.”
Riley closed her eyes, leaning into his palm.
“I will love you,” Clark promised her, “even if you never break another curse. Even,” he repeated, “if you write a song and want to sing it directly in front of me.”
She blinked up at him. “That’s quite a promise.”
“Yes, it is.” One he couldn’t have made if Riley hadn’t helped him face his fears, his shame.
His mobile rang, startling them both.
“Just a second.” Clark fished it out of his trouser pocket. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Edgeware? This is Helen from the HES,” a voice said around static. The service in the castle was terrible.
“Oh, yes, Helen. Hello.” He owed her an email. Perhaps several. When had a job not been the most important thing in his life? Clark felt equal parts guilty and glad.
He walked farther into the castle to get away from the rising din of the disappointed crowd. “What can I do for you?”
“Unfortunately, I’m calling to inform you that we are immediately suspending your assignment at Arden Castle.”
He’d been expecting these words, feared them, for months. Still they took him completely aback.
“What?” He plugged a finger into his ear. “Sorry? May I ask why?”
“I’m afraid I can’t disclose the committee’s decision-making process. But I believe someone”—this she said with telling pity—“may have informed them you weren’t the right fit for this assignment.”
Who would call the HES? The second the question entered his mind, Clark knew the answer.
Helen said other things, something about collecting his last paycheck. He couldn’t hear very well.
Months of work, his new proposals, all dead on arrival.
Helen cleared her throat. “Do you have any other questions?”
Clark didn’t. Not for her.
After they hung up, he laughed, hard and painful, until tears cut at the corner of his eyes and he had to lean against the wall to keep from sagging to the floor.
He taken this job to try to repair his reputation. To regain his father’s esteem.
Only to now have Alfie snatch the opportunity away. The sheer irony of it all.
“What’s going on?” Riley had come to find him, concern clear across her features.
“Oh, nothing.” Clark wished he could say he was surprised, but it was almost textbook Alfie. He’d gotten his son a contract and when he no longer felt Clark deserved the favor, he’d taken it away. “My father’s just had me fired.”
Over the course of his lifetime, Clark had resented plenty about his dad. He resented when he wasn’t home. All the attention he gave to people who weren’t his family. His casual brand of cruelty. But right now, Clark resented his dad most of all for taking him away from Riley when she needed him.
He wouldn’t have left if she hadn’t made him.
“Go.” She pushed gently at his chest. “Don’t let him get away with this.”
Three weeks ago, he’d feared this exact scenario—mucking up this job, disappointing his father—more than almost anything.
When Patrick had first suggested Clark join him in looking for the lost temple, he’d balked, said no. I’m not interested in making a fool of myself chasing a myth.
Patrick had smiled at his censure.
That, right there, he said, pointing at Clark’s scornful face, is exactly why you’re going to come along. Anything you react to that strongly has something you need buried beneath it.
He’d been right then, as he was now.
“It’s the end of my contract, not the end of the world.” Clark found he wasn’t lying. His priorities had unlocked, shifted, in the last few weeks. Riley had shown him no amount of professional success determined your worth.
“It’s not about the job and we both know it. Go,” she said again, softer this time. “I’ll hold down the fort. I promise I handled my fair share of angry crowds before I met you and I can handle them now.”
So Clark went.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dusk had fallen by the time Riley got done dealing with the fallout of their failed ritual. There weren’t many positive side effects of having a bunch of hometown sports teams that constantly fumbled the bag at the end of the season, but at least Riley knew how to corral disappointed drunk people after a long-sought victory was snatched from underneath their noses. Soothing ruffled feathers was far from her favorite part of her job, but with any luck, she’d done enough damage control to avoid negative Yelp reviews.
It wouldn’t have made that big of a difference, she told herself as she kicked off her shoes in her room at the inn, if she and Clark had been able to break the curse in front of that crowd.
Most people wouldn’t be able to tell, at least not right away. That was the trouble with contracting on public curses instead of private ones—Riley had to figure out how to prove she’d earned her fee when the only evidence of a broken curse was its absence.