Chapter 14 #2
in her op note, and by the time she found her words again, he had sidled away, meeting up with a few other reporters she recognized
from past press conferences at the Palace.
“Rizz alert,” Violet said under her breath, and Lauren whirled around.
“Don’t even,” Lauren whispered to her. “He is a professional and I am a professional and he brought me a very professional coffee as a way of saying—”
“That you’re his espresso.” Violet grinned, and this time, even Harriet was trying to hide a smile.
The truth was, of course, that normally she would have texted Joy with the news. “Um, excuse me!” James called, clapping his
hands together like he was trying to herd a litter of puppies. “I’m over here and you all are still over there, and I’m just curious why that is.”
“If you make a thing of me and Oscar to James, I will change all of your social media passwords,” Lauren whispered under her
breath. Violet didn’t exactly look threatened.
“Coming!” Harriet said. “Come on, you two. The work begins.”
“Okay,” Lauren said as a small pack of reporters and photographers and someone with a very unwieldy-looking video camera followed
her every gesture. She held her hand up to a pushy cameraman. “Off the record, please.” She continued. “This is where the prince and the duke will come in, they’re going to talk to the pub
owners about the food and beer festival, they’ll probably pull pints together—”
“But just have one sip, of course,” James interjected.
“Of course,” Lauren replied. “Because it is eleven thirty in the morning. Thank you, James, very helpful. Anyway, Their Royal Highnesses will chat with the pub’s landlord as well as four local business owners before we make our way through the rear exit to the town hall for a civic lunch, which will be attended by over twenty-four local politicians and civic dignitaries from Skipton Town Council.
They will be greeted by the Lord Mayor before sitting for lunch, details of which you will receive from Harriet as soon as they’re inside.
After that, we’re back outside for a walkabout, where Their Royal Highnesses are looking forward to meeting as many locals as possible before departing. ”
Lauren could see Oscar in the very back, credentials on a lanyard around his neck, nodding along as he made notes on his phone.
He was both handsome and familiar, and when he glanced up at Lauren, he gave her a small wink that only she noticed.
“Lauren?” Harriet murmured.
“What?” She looked up to see Celia Parker from the Sentinel pursing her lips like she was sucking a sour plum.
“I asked,” Celia said, the irritation clear in her voice, “if the prince would be addressing the rumors about the twins deferring
their university entries by a year.”
“Given that Prince Thomas and Princess Helena are minors entitled to privacy, the answer is obviously not.” Lauren smiled
at her, and in the corner of her eye, she could see Oscar smiling, too. “Today’s focus is on the engagements here and the
Prince of Strathearn and Duke of Exeter’s efforts to highlight the Skipton Food and Drink Festival, as well as talk with local
townspeople, while also promoting the importance of supporting local tourism efforts in small towns throughout England and
how they add to both our culture and economy.”
“You mean our culture,” the reporter muttered as she slunk away to scribble something in shorthand on her notebook.
“Any other questions that I can answer?” Lauren called.
“Do we get lunch?” someone yelled out.
“Not my problem,” Lauren replied, then gestured toward the pub owners, who were almost beaming at the fact that journalists
from every major newspaper were in their restaurant.
“Thank you again for having us,” Lauren said to them. “I know Their Highnesses will be so thrilled to meet you.”
Just as she was about to step away and go wait for the duke, James came up to her. “Well, I’ll let you handle the rest of
this,” he said. “I’m off for the afternoon.”
Lauren blinked. “You’re not here to watch my every move and report back to Eugene?”
“No, you know what you’re doing at this point. And I have plans.” James smiled.
“Plans?” Lauren repeated.
“Yes, I’m going to visit my mother.”
“Your mom lives here?” Lauren said. “In Skipton?”
James nodded, and for the first time since Lauren had met him, he actually looked somewhat pleased. “It’s been a while since
I was able to come see her, so I thought today might be a good opportunity to do just that.”
“I agree, it is,” Lauren said. “Go, go, we’ve got this locked down.” She gestured toward Harriet and Violet. “I have a good
team.”
“Well, let’s keep it that way,” James said. “Please don’t destroy the monarchy while I’m eating lunch with my mum.”
“I’ll do my best,” Lauren assured him.
A few minutes later, a black car carrying the prince and the duke glided up to the curb, and when they stepped out, the royal charm was in full effect, and Lauren was once again no exception to it.
The local citizens burst into spontaneous applause, cameras began clicking, and Lauren was pretty sure she saw one older woman start to cry happy tears.
A local brass band started playing an upbeat ditty as soon as they exited the car, which Lauren had feared would be cheesy but was actually quite touching, and when the duke stepped into the pub two steps behind the prince, Lauren saw him search the crowd before his eyes landed on her for just a second.
Nothing is happening between us, she told herself, taking a deep breath as she walked over to him.
“Your Highness,” she said. “It’s great to have the both of you together for this.”
“Of course. Anything to get Cockburn all riled up,” he said with a chuckle. “How are you?”
By this point, Lauren had worked with enough politicians and royal figures to know that none of them had ever, ever asked
how she was doing, and she hated how the simple question went right to her gut. “Just fine, thank you,” she said, and turned
away before he could ask her anything else.
The visit continued to their next stop, the town hall, which had an overwhelming smell of fresh paint. Lauren had to stop
herself from wrinkling her nose as soon as she walked in, lest one of the agency photographers get a shot and put it on the
front page of the UK tabloids: “Rude Sass from US Lass.”
Instead, she and Harriet stood back as the prince and the duke both greeted the mayor and began to chat. Lauren thought that
if she ever threw a party, a royal family member would be an amazing guest. They could talk to everyone, knew how to make
conversation without straying into any offensive territory, and also knew how to make a polite exit.
Not that she was throwing a party any time soon, of course. You needed friends to host a party, and Lauren was all too aware
of the fact that she lacked them.
Harriet crept up next to her as across the room Violet was taking video. “This has gone quite well,” Harriet trilled under her breath, and by this point, Lauren had learned enough about Palace employees to understand that she was being paid the highest of compliments.
“Thank you,” Lauren replied. “Amelia did most of the legwork on this one before she left, I have to say.”
Harriet reached into her purse and pulled out a tin of mints, holding one out to Lauren. “Helps with the paint smell.”
“How did you know?” Lauren asked, helping herself, and wow, if Harriet wasn’t right.
“All of these stops smell like paint,” Harriet replied. “They get so excited for a royal visit that they spend weeks getting
ready. When the Princess of Strathearn was pregnant, one village hall even built an entirely new bathroom in case she needed
to use it.”
Lauren turned to look at Harriet. “You are joking.”
“I am not,” Harriet said, taking two mints before tucking them away. “These trips can really invigorate small towns. It means
so much to people. I know it’s easy to mock or brush off, especially if you didn’t grow up with it, but it matters. They matter,” she added, gesturing toward the duke chatting to the manager of the local library as they laughed together.
After the visit, the duke and the prince stepped outside, where there were dozens of, if not maybe a hundred, people surrounding the town square, cheering and waving, their children shoved toward the front of the crowds to give them a view.
Lauren could see the top of Oscar’s head moving behind one group of very giddy, blushing women, phone and notebook in hand, and she felt a rush of happiness to see him followed by a sharp nervousness that just behind him, the duke was greeting the crowd.
Lauren buttoned up the top of her coat and wiped down her clammy hands.
She had once sat next to Oprah herself at a Presidential Medal of Freedom ceremony and managed to keep her dignity, but now she felt like she was about to climb out of her skin.
Still, she kept her face steady as she watched Jasper mingle with the local residents and as Oscar took notes on everything that he said.
Everything was fine, she said to herself.
Oscar didn’t know about her kiss with Jasper, and he didn’t need to.
Her relationship with Jasper was purely work-related at this point, even if their shared glances made Lauren feel like there were hamsters tap dancing in her tummy.
Her friendship with Joy was another problem entirely, of course, but Lauren could fix that because that was what she did—she fixed things.
And even though she had no idea how to do that, she would figure it out because—
“Hey,” Oscar said as he came up next to her, and Lauren just about fell out of her Louboutin ankle boots, which she had purchased
preloved on Poshmark. “Great job today. Nobody was assassinated.”
Lauren felt all the color drain from her face.
“Oh no, I’m kidding,” Oscar said, starting to laugh a little. “I’m only kidding, I promise. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything while we’re
all still working.”