Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Pilar
I looked at the tabloid headline again.
“Princess Pilar Following in Brothers’ Footsteps.”
It was accompanied by a photograph of me in my bikini and barely there coverup on my balcony. It must have been taken right after Ben had left because it was clear as day that I’d just gotten screwed. Literally and figuratively, apparently.
“I thought paparazzi weren’t allowed on this part of the island.” I looked up at Amir.
“Which means, it wasn’t a paparazzo who took this.”
“This is so embarrassing.” I covered my face. “What will Eli say?”
“I spoke to him. He doesn’t want you to worry.”
“I look…” I dropped my hand from my face and peered at the grainy photograph of myself. At least it was grainy. Still, you could make out my expression. “I look like a porn star.”
Amir flinched. “Please don’t say that.”
“I’m just saying what everyone else is probably thinking.” I set the magazine down with a sigh. “I know Aramis won’t yell at me for this because that would be hypocritical, but Eli? I don’t even want to face him.”
“I already told you, I spoke to him. He doesn’t seem upset. He wants you to have fun, you know?”
“Having fun is one thing, but at what cost to the Crown?”
“You having fun or doing things like this is perfectly normal, Pilar. You’re twenty-four not eighty-five. And quite frankly, you’ve never stepped out of line. This hardly constitutes something you should be ashamed of. It’s not like you’re spitting in babies’ faces.”
I felt myself laugh. “Well, you’re the most by-the-book person I know, so I guess if you’re not judging me, I should calm down.”
“Exactly.”
“I just don’t understand. Who would take this photo and sell it?”
“Who knows.” He shrugged. “We’re going to make sure it doesn’t happen again though.”
Amir walked away like a man on a mission, and I was sure he’d make good on that promise. My mind went back to the woman I’d met outside of the Indian restaurant. Could it have been her? I shook my head. No. I doubted it. People who took photographs like these and sold them were usually in the gossip mill industry. I decided to let it go. It was the only thing I could do right now. I stood, tossed the tabloid into the trash, and went to my room to call Joss. She was my personal secretary and in charge of keeping gossip at a minimum. If anyone would know what to do right now, it was her.
I stared at the vase of red carnations.
“These were sent to me?” I asked for the second time.
Nobody had sent me flowers before. I hadn’t even read the note yet, but I knew who they were from. I just couldn’t process how I felt about it.
“Yes, Miss Pilar,” said Sylvia, our cleaning lady. I’d told the staff not to address me formally, but they couldn’t seem to stop doing it, so I accepted the Miss . Sylvia cleared her throat. “Red carnations mean longing. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t.” My heart pounded as I walked up to the vase and picked up the envelope, opening it and taking out the little card.
We didn’t exchange phone numbers. Can we see each other again? Tonight? – Ben
He’d included his number on the bottom of the card. I felt myself smile as I read it over and bit my lip as I took out my phone to type in his number. I didn’t mean to call, but I pressed the button instead of saving the digits. He answered quickly, sounding a little out of breath. My breath caught at the sound of his pants. I instantly thought about the woman I’d met on the street and wished that wasn’t my first thought when it came to his heavy breathing.
“Pilar?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“You got the flowers.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I did. I guess the note answers the first question that came to mind when I saw them.”
“What question was that?”
“I don’t know. I just… I guess I didn’t expect flowers.” I bit my lip. “But you didn’t really have my number to text me.”
“Text you?” he said. “You think I sent flowers in lieu of a text because I didn’t have your number?”
“Well, didn’t you?”
“No, Pilar.” He was quiet for a second. “Boys send texts. Men send flowers.”
“Oh.” Happiness flooded me. “Do you send flowers to all the women you hook up with?”
“Not all.”
“Hmm. Only the ones you want to see again?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, thank you for your honesty.” I laughed lightly. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to tell me you’d never sent anyone flowers before.”
“I don’t need to use lies to impress you. I’d rather do that with actions.”
“I like that.” I smiled. “So, tonight? At nine? Ten? I want to do something fun.”
“In that case, I’ll pick you up at ten. Wear something comfortable. Nothing too fancy.”
“See you then.” I hung up the phone and let out an excited shriek.
“I take that as a good sign,” Amir said, walking into the dining area. He approached the flowers. “Carnations. Interesting. Most men send roses.”
“Carnations signify longing.” I jutted my chin proudly. “Sylvia just told me that.”
“Longing is a good sign.” Amir smiled. “So, tonight at ten?”
“Do you just sit around eavesdropping on all of my conversations?”
“Not all of them. Only the ones you have in public areas of the house.”
I stared at him for a long time before walking away and into my room to pick out an outfit for tonight. I would compare Amir to my father, but if I were being completely honest, Amir was more of a father to me than my own. I had been sad when Father died because when everything was said and done, he was still my dad, but honestly, I was sadder at the thought of losing someone like Amir. After a few minutes, there was a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I called out, knowing it was Amir again.
“Joss is coming in tomorrow for a few days. She said she tried calling but couldn’t reach you. I told her your reception wasn’t good in most of the house.”
“Thank you.” I glanced at him with a smile before going back to the clothes in front of me. “Do you think casual, not fancy, means like a maxi dress?”
“What is a maxi dress?”
“This.” I pulled one out and pressed it to my front.
“That’s nice.” He nodded. “You should wear a coverup over it though.”
“A coverup?” I laughed. “It’s hot. The whole point of this is to feel sexy.”
“Well, in that case, don’t wear a coverup.” He kept staring at the dress like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should. Finally, I sighed.
“What?”
“You should take it slow with Benjamin.”
“You said he was a good guy.”
“Even good guys hurt good people unwillingly.”
“You think he’s going to hurt me?” I lowered the dress with a frown.
“Not willingly, but you’re very innocent for your age, Pilar. You’ve been sheltered a lot.”
“I’ve done things.” My frown deepened. I had.
“You’ve had one long-term boyfriend who you were with for nearly six years. That doesn’t give you room to do a lot of things.”
“Yeah, well, Toby and I?—”
“Grew up together.” Amir smiled. “And that’s a wonderful thing. He loves you very much.”
“I’m not getting back together with Toby.”
“It’s not my place to suggest you should.”
“Good. So we’re clear on that.”
“We are. See you in a while. I have to go run some errands before tonight.”
“He said he’s picking me up,” I called out.
“Sure, which means we have to do what we did last time and trail you around. Nothing says ‘we’re going on a regular date’ like a caravan full of security surrounding an overzealous sports car.”
I laughed at his tone as he walked away and closed the door, but as time went on, I thought about what he’d said, and it dawned on me that being with the same guy for six years essentially meant that I was innocent in matters of love. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.