Charming by Choice: Charming by Design, #1

By Arielle Morisot

Cindie O'Caroll, underdog contestant on the dating show Two Princes, has to decide what to do next when her hero and boss, fashion designer Robin Paul Palmer, confesses that he has feelings for her while she's in the midst of dating two other men. She wants Robin to take her seriously as an artist, but she also wants him to take her to bed, and the situation only gets more complicated when both of the two princes seem to want her for themselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arielle Morisot
• Release date: Jun 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223356400

Book preview

Chapter One: Robin

Two weeks have passed since the season started, and this stupidly fancy room in the Two Princes mansion is starting to feel just a little bit more like home ... but, uh not necessarily in a good way. When I say that this place is home now, I mean that it’s where I’ve gotten used to tackling my anxiety, my artist’s block, and my insomnia after a long day of dressing and then watching very attractive twenty-somethings prance around on set making moon eyes at each other and pretending to be royalty.

I got maybe three hours of fitful sleep last night, and now it’s five in the morning and I’m awake again, trying to pin down a dream I had about a pair of wide-leg women’s pants in red silk with a faux cummerbund attached to the front. I’m not sure if the design is a good idea or not, because I’ve learned to be wary of things that come to me in dreams. Sometimes, they seem incredibly brilliant until I wake up, try to sketch them out, and then realize that I can’t rely on my brain to come up with anything useful while it’s deep in REM.

We don’t need to talk about the pink jumpsuit that a dream version of my high school math teacher almost convinced me to dress Hannah Neville in on the red carpet for the Silver Orbs. Let’s just say that she found a really nice way to explain to me that she’d rather wear a suit made of roadkill. Eventually, I realized she had a point; it wasn’t a good suit. My point is; not all inspirations lead to magic ... but I’ll never know unless I try.

Just as I manage to fumble my tablet out from under my pillow so that I can start drawing, I think I hear a knock on my door.

Wait, what’s happening? My watch, which I forgot to take off before I passed out last night, definitely says it’s five o’clock. There’s no way anybody needs me yet. Filming doesn’t even start until nine, and I know for a fact that the producer, Sawyer Stone, is never out of bed until eight-twenty-five.

Uh, I mumble, squinting at the door. Hello?

Robin! A familiar voice calls out in a stage whisper from the other side, and suddenly I’m WIDE awake. Robin, are you up? Can I come in, please? It’s an emergency!

Oh, crap, uh, coming! I shout, and then I wince because even my voice is too loud in my ears.

Cindie O’Carroll, my former assistant and now a contestant on this show, sounds absolutely desperate, which isn’t typical for her. Whatever’s going on, it’s obviously bad, and so this is my chance to spring into action and to become a substitute prince charming while the other two princes are, probably, still fast asleep. Groggy and still feeling kinda stupid, I spring from my bed, bark my shin against the corner of the dresser, and hiss in pain while I hunt around on the floor for a pair of pants and on the table for my glasses.

Once I’m at least mostly dressed, I rush over to the door and fling it open to reveal a panicked-looking Cindie wearing a set of cute flannel pajamas with little purple sharks printed all over them, and for a second I’m stunned. This is the least fashionable thing I’ve ever seen her wear ... and somehow, she still looks as bright and perfect as a drop of golden fucking sunshine on a gloomy day. It’s like when she steps into the room, she lets all the inspiration back in, and suddenly I’m awake, and on fire, and alive, and freaking out, and trying not to gawk at her, and ... oh my god, it’s getting worse, isn’t it? It’s getting so much worse every day.

Oh my god, I whisper aloud. Hearing me, Cindie blinks, widens her eyes, and then glances down at her pajamas before flushing a pretty bright pink and bringing her hands to her mouth in horror.

Oh my god, she echoes, you never saw these. I never wore these. This never happened!

It’s fine, I assure her. I want to tell her that she’s so beautiful she’d look good in that terrible pink jumpsuit from my sordid past, but I can’t, because the words just won’t form in my throat. It’s fine, you look fine. What’s wrong? Are you-?

No! Cindie shakes her head. No, I’m not! It’s like I’ve gone brain dead! Nothing makes sense! Nothing matters! I’m so tired! Everything is the wrong color! Or is it? Robin, help, please, I don’t know what to do anymore. You’re my only hope.

The Star Wars reference makes me smile, and I start to relax a little, because Cindie’s starting to make sense. Okay, I think to myself, I know what that is. I’ve felt this before.

Cindie, I begin, you look exhausted.

I am! She nods emphatically. I’ve been up all night!

Why?

Because I’m not a fast sewer, and the talent challenge starts at ten o’clock, and-!

Ah, yes. The talent challenge. The pieces all begin to fall together, and I let out a slow breath.

Okay, I tell her. Okay, you’ve come to the right place. A fresh pair of eyes sounds like it’s exactly what you need.

Relief floods Cindie’s face, and somehow that makes her even prettier than she was ten seconds ago, which actually shouldn’t be possible. What’s more, the relief in her expression is absolutely all for me, and I’m proud and thrilled and also a little bit terrified that now I have to back up my big words by actually helping her out of her predicament.

Where’s the piece? I ask. Your room?

Cindie beckons me to follow, and then as quietly as we can we leave my bedroom behind us and cross the hallway into Cindie’s room.

She’s got her sewing machine set