Tabloid Princess, page 7
“Tradition?” I all but whimpered.
“Yes, the heir to the throne always has a ball for his thirtieth.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
He shrugged and glanced at his watch. “So, I’ve changed it. I’m going to spend the week doing some press calls here, hoping to grow your awareness, and I’m going to make an investment that will hopefully push you to the next level.” His voice was business-like and abrupt. I’d upset him. My rudeness had affronted him.
This was the point where I should remind myself I didn’t care, that he was just an arrogant rich aristocrat more interested in column inches than real people.
I could tell myself that all I wanted.
“Investment,” another whimper. More of a squeak really. Followed by, “A week?”
He couldn’t be here for the week. I wouldn’t survive.
“Yes. I’m going to match the money that will be spent on the ball to the charity.”
“How much?” My cheeks burned. It was a rude question, but I had to ask it all the same.
His lips twitched. “Fifty thousand.” His gaze was bold, waiting for me to react. “Is that acceptable to you?”
“And you’re going to do a press conference right here. This week?”
He nodded and I could have sworn a twitch flickered at the edge of his lips. “I think the marketing manager should be involved with that, correct?”
Shoot me.
Now.
“Yes. Probably.”
“So, do you have a media pack I can use to give to the press?”
“A what now?”
Freya tutted, far louder than was necessary, and slid a glossy folder across the table, her shiny red nails catching the sunlight streaming through the window. “Here. I’ve had one made this morning, there are three hundred ready to go.”
“Uh.” I scrambled to find the right words. “Thank you.”
Prince Oliver fanned his long slender fingers across the table. “Could I have a couple of minutes alone with Leia?” He didn’t add a please. It wasn’t a question.
Janine shot me a glance, and I totally understood what she was saying. Don’t fuck this up. I squirmed.
Freya swung her straight ebony hair over her shoulder without giving me a second glance.
The door closed and then the prince and I sat in silence.
“Well?” he asked eventually.
I shook all over, despite the fact I was sat down. “Thank you.”
“Is this what you wanted?” His question was low, soft, seeking a response.
“It shouldn’t be about me. I am sorry for yesterday.”
He shifted forward and I couldn’t hide from the scrutiny of his fire-bright stare. “Strangely, I care about what you think. As unusual as that is.”
I nodded, not really understanding what he was saying. “Well, thank you. This… this will change everything here.”
I went to leave; pretty sure our conversation was over.
“Janine said she was thinking of trying to open another office at the other side of London.”
Okay. The conversation isn’t over.
I cleared my throat. “There are so many places that need somewhere like this. Places that most people couldn’t even comprehend what hell it’s like to live in.”
He nodded. “I know. I’m understanding that now.” I shifted closer to him. When he spoke, it was a whisper that travelled right to my chest. “Do you think I’m a terrible prince for not seeing what goes on around me?” His face remained guarded.
“I’m an exceptionally negative person. And you shouldn’t listen to what I say. It’s ninety-eight percent nonsense.” I could count his freckles.
Up to six, he broke my concentration.
“I think there’s a chance I might like your brand of nonsense.”
I snapped back, sitting up straight like a rubber band that had been pulled too hard. “Don’t.”
A flicker of confusion flashed across his face. He cleared his throat just as the door opened and he also pulled back. We’d been too close together. Too close for propriety.
I taunted a smile and forced my legs to work. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
His eyes flashed with fire as they scooted across my face, but his lips twitched. “The honour is all mine, I assure you.”
Seven
“Leia!” Molly’s call woke me from my distracted thoughts. I say woke me. Strictly speaking, sleeping at your desk isn’t considered a good work ethic. “It’s lunch time. Do you think we can go out?”
I peered over my shoulder. I’d kept my hair down all morning so I could use it as a curtain to peer through. He really was staying in the office. I had no idea what he was doing here.
What did a prince have to gain from spending the day in our office? The only thing I could assume was that he didn’t have enough royal duties to perform at this point in time.
“I don’t know.” I turned in my seat to find Molly watching me. “Why?”
“We need to go shopping again.”
“Nope. Nope. I refuse to go back there with you.”
“Leia. I’m your best friend. I can’t let you be on show, in throwing distance of a royal prince of all things, looking like that.”
I glanced down at my patterned leggings. There was nothing wrong with them that I could see.
“Look at Freya; she’s cool and collected in her dresses.”
“I’m nothing like Freya, and why would I want to be?”
“Because when she stands next to Prince Oliver’s side at a press conference no one gives her a second glance. You look like you’ve jogged in from the street.”
“I’m not going to be on television,” I scoffed. Oh my god, was I going to be on television? A cold shiver ran through me—nothing could be worse.
“Your legs could be. And right now, you are wearing leggings with stars on them. How did you even go into that meeting this morning and get taken seriously? For God’s sake, Leia, it looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed.”
I stood from my chair and wiggled my legs. “But look how comfy they are.” To prove the point, I squatted a few times. “You couldn’t do this in a shift dress.”
Molly snorted and without turning around I knew we were being watched. I walked sideways like a crab and grabbed my handbag and then walked the same way to the door.
Outside Molly doubled over clutching her stomach. “You’re a liability, do you know that?”
“Shut up. Are we going shopping or not?”
“Yes. Then I reckon we can fit in some wine before we have to come back.”
My eyes opened wide. “I can’t drink at lunch time.” I pointed at the office containing the heir to the throne and his super-efficient press secretary. “There are people in there that actually know what they are doing.”
“Maybe wine will help you?”
“Maybe.” I stared at the door of the office for a moment. “Is it me or is this week turning into a bit of a weird one?”
“Weird and then some.”
We turned for the main road and the shops. “I can’t really afford clothes right now, Molly; it’s ages until payday.”
“I know. I know. It’s why I’m buying them for you as a birthday present.”
I laughed and nudged her with my elbow. “My birthday isn’t until December.”
“I know, I’m just being organised this year.”
“You’re too generous. I don’t need to you to buy me stuff.”
“I’m not. My parents have money to burn, and honestly, I feel like I’m failing if I don’t blow through some of it on a weekly basis.”
“But, Molly.” I affected the stern voice of her dad. “This money is your nest egg. Your future security.”
She rolled her eyes. Molly came from an affluent family; what in the old days would have been called middle-class. Her parents swiftly learned that money didn’t improve their daughter’s prospects, especially when she got led on a dangerous path at private school.
“Who would dress you if we weren’t best friends?” Molly stuck her tongue out after her question. Neither of us had managed to mature much the last seven years despite me being a mother. Possibly in my case it was due to me being a mother.
“Daisy.” I grinned. “She’s all about dresses that flounce at the moment.”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Why don’t you wear more dresses that flounce?”
“Because then they would show my thunder thighs.”
“They aren’t that thunderous.”
“Don’t say anything else! It’s bad enough being in a room next to six-foot Freya.”
“Do you think she’s his bit on the side?” Molly asked as she pointed at Primark.
“No! Do you think she is?” I pondered this for a minute as we both grabbed a basket at the shop’s front door. “What would she be a bit on the side to? He has seven different girlfriends a week.”
Molly shot me a glance. “Well he seems to be listening to you rather a lot. Maybe you’re next on his hit list?”
My cheeks flushed for no reason whatsoever other than to make me just that little bit hotter. “I doubt that very much.”
“He did follow you out the office yesterday, or are we ignoring that development?”
I picked up a dress, refusing to pay attention to the tight band that crept its way around my chest. “I think we can ignore it.”
She flicked me with a cardigan she had picked up to inspect. “No chance! What did he say to you? I’ve been desperate to ask you all morning.”
“Nothing. Well, I told him I thought the ball was a lame idea.”
“YOU!” She shouted loud enough that a couple of mothers with pushchairs turned to glance at us. “Don’t you dare ruin our fun! When do we ever get to go anywhere that exciting?”
I scrunched my face. “Do you really think it’s exciting? I think it sounds like hell.”
“Leia,” she shook her head slowly, “that’s because you go to bed at seven every night. When was the last time you went out, without being with me?”
“I’ve got a child for goodness’ sake. I can’t just go out willy-nilly all the time.”
“Babe, you better hope you get some willy.”
I held my hand up. “Stop, okay? Let’s just get some dresses and get back to the office. I’m pretty sure there are things I should be doing. This is a massive week for us, but I don’t really know what’s expected of me. I mean is Freya in charge now?”
“Question is, have you ever been in charge?”
I wished I could defend myself, but I couldn’t find it in me. “Fair point.” I picked up a hanger and held it out. “What about this?”
She looked up and down at the navy dress with small pink flowers. A stretchy material, it had a wrap-style front. While it looked like it may cling to areas I didn’t like to accentuate, it seemed to be relatively well made—hopefully it would have some support.
“Navy and pink?” She waggled an eyebrow.
“Yes and…?”
“Are you dressing to co-ordinate with Prince Oliver?”
“What?”
“He’s wearing navy trousers and a pink tie. Please tell me you have noticed?”
I think if ever there was a moment she’d finally give up on me—this would be it.
“No. I was trying very hard not to stare at him.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s rude.”
“Oh, shut up. He expects it. It’s his job to be nice, shake hands, smile politely and be stared at.”
My cheeks warmed again. “I didn’t say I’d succeeded.”
“Aha! You are human after all.”
“Of course, I am. Now am I getting this one or not?”
She stared at the dress for one moment longer, using some superior shopping skill I’d been born defective of. “Yes. And this one for tomorrow.” She handed me a black one with a small silver fern print.
“Tomorrow?”
“Babe, you are going to be on show all week. Better embrace it.”
I cringed, a deep dread settling in my stomach. I actually couldn’t imagine anything worse.
What was worse was getting back to the office, one large white wine oiled and wearing my new dress, only to find the broad-shouldered frame of the prince in my chair.
“Oh.”
He was writing something on a small laptop and turned briefly in my direction with my exclamation. “One moment.”
He held his finger up and I bit hard on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from retorting. I dropped a curtsey and mumbled. “Yes, Your Highness.”
I couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like his cheeks lifted.
Then he turned and flashed the full wattage of his burning, intense gaze at me. Running a hand through his inky hair, he shot me a rueful smile. “My apologies for borrowing your chair. I needed to respond to some urgent emails.”
“My throne.” I shot back without even thinking.
He met my gaze. I’m not sure if it was shock or amusement dancing in his eyes. “And very comfortable too. It’s feels like it’s been well worn.”
I bobbed another curtsey—this one was utterly unnecessary—what was I doing? Thanking him for being rude to me?
What a dick.
“Nice dress.”
I flustered as I tried to shrug and cover my cleavage all at once.
“Thanks.”
He lifted from the chair, towering over me, standing close enough I could catch a faint hint of his aftershave—oriental and spicy.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He nodded. I couldn’t help but notice Freya who was on the phone inside Janine’s open office glance up and frown slightly in our direction. “Why are you going to be here all week?”
I was being terribly rude. I could tell by the frustrated expression on his face. His nostrils flared a little.
“Is it inconvenient for you?”
“Uh, no. Not at all. Just figured you’d have other things to do.”
“Well on Friday I’m opening a new wing at a hospital in Warwick. Does that count?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
“So what are you going to do while you are here?”
Just then the phone rang. With his eyes on my face he reached an arm past me to my desk, his long fingers grasping the handset. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he answered. “Bright Futures. Prince Oliver speaking, how can I help?”
My chin almost hit the floor and I thought I caught another ghost of a smile.
“If you could hold the line.” He dropped the phone slightly, his hand covering the mouthpiece. “How do you transfer a call to Janine?” He flashed me a true grin then and my mind went totally blank. “Leia, how do you transfer a call?” he prompted when I didn’t answer.
“Uh. Oh.” I stared at the phone. There was a button you were meant to press, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember which one.
“Is it this red one?”
“Uh. Yeah. She’s number seventeen.” I managed to kick myself into action and pressed the red button followed by her office number.
“You okay?” The left edge of his mouth twitched.
“Everyone will know you are here now.”
He glanced down at his watch and so did I. It looked old; a gold face and worn brown leather strap. “I would imagine people already know. The Palace released a press statement half an hour ago confirming that my chosen charity for my birthday would be Bright Futures.”
“Oh.”
He waited, like he was almost expecting me to add something. Maybe he wanted to know how grateful I was. But my mind whirled; it was too much information all at once.
Instead, I dropped another awkward curtsey and then almost fell sideways into my chair.
This was about to change everything.
Everything.
I cast a glance towards the man who was making it all possible. He stood next to Freya while she showed him something. How could one man who seemed so incredibly distant and cut off, change everything for so many people all within such a short space of time?
“I was thinking.” I crossed my legs, pulling down my dress that was now showing too much thigh. “We need to reach out to younger people.”
Janine happened to be at the printer and turned in my direction. I felt the weighted gaze of green eyes land on my face and there was a distinct drop in the conversation from the other side of the room. “What do you mean?”
“Well I’m thinking about Emilia, and her sister…” My words faltered a little but then I dug deep and braved it out. “And me. I wondered if there had been somewhere they or I had to go that was safe and confidential, then maybe things wouldn’t have gone the way they had.”
“What, like a youth club?” Paula spoke up. “My kids would never be seen dead in one. Sorry, Leia, but they are old school now.”
“Okay. Youth clubs aren’t cool anymore. But where can we get access to young kids before the damage takes place?”
Molly shook her head. “Let’s hope we aren’t being bugged, everything that’s just come out of your mouth sounds morally wrong.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. “You know what I mean. In schools is one.”
Paula tutted. “Kids hate talking to teachers.”
“In primary?” I asked. I thought of Daisy and her infallible love of Miss Evans; something I was a little jealous of if I was being honest.
“From about age eight upwards,” Paula clarified.
“What about computer games?” It was Ian who spoke. We all turned in shock. That’s how quiet he normally was.
“Imagine a kid is playing his Xbox in his room. Downstairs, he thinks something is going on that shouldn’t be, but he doesn’t actually know, it’s just a feeling he’s got. But he’s on his game, his friends are chatting, so he ignores everything in his own house, until later a window smashes because his drunk father has got fed up with the dog barking and has thrown it through the window.”
A heavy silence spread until Paula broke it with the squeak of the wheels on her chair as she scooted to his side of the desk and gave him a giant motherly squeeze. I wanted to turn and look to see how the prince reacted to this. This was the stuff we dealt with: horrific, painful, messy.
