Chapter 8
GREENWICH
ELOISE
Imade it home forty-five minutes after I left Buckingham Palace.
Mark, Abi’s husband, called to let me know they had a six-pound baby girl who was doing well.
Abi was just out of surgery and would be open to visitors tomorrow.
I planned to drop by and check in on Mum and baby as well as bring some food—after a good night’s sleep in my own bed.
Then, of course, before I even made it in my building, I got a call from Jax.
“Yes, Jax?”
“I am going to need you to go in tomorrow and deal with the Prince and such.”
“Jax, I haven’t slept in two days. I was planning on spending Saturday visiting Abi at the hospital and helping her mum ready the house for the baby.”
“Yeah, that won’t do. You’re headed to Wales.”
“What?”
“I spoke to Her Majesty’s people just now. Sleep, sure. And go hold a baby if you must, but at 3PM tomorrow, you must be at London City and ready to spend the next few weeks in Wales settling the Prince in. Your job is to babysit him and work on his image.”
“Babysit him?” I scoffed. “For an indeterminate period of time?”
“Your must use whatever skills you may possess to convince him to agree to the bloody documentary. Can you do that?”
“In Wales? In the middle of nowhere?”
“Her Majesty will host you in a cottage on the property! Stop being dramatic, darling. It’s not as if you live in a palace.”
She was right. I most certainly did not. I assumed anything on The Queen’s property would be heads or tails above.
“So, what, work during the day and play with sheep in the evening?”
Jax laughed heartily. “No. You will stay glued to him and observe. Keep his nose clean and to convince him to do the doc. It is what his mother insists must happen but if she forces him to do more, she risks more of a blow-up. Make it his idea.”
“Stay and observe? So, what… am I living with him now?”
“No. You will have your own space, but you will be very busy when he isn’t at work. And you will continue to check the press and help me maneuver from Wales.”
She had no intention of showing. She really expected me to live there and give up my whole life! And for what?
“If I do,” I said, “will you let me come back to London?”
“Yes, of course. Just a bit longer. Get him in shape, get him focused, work on this overall look, and then you can come back and I will make it worth your while. Deliver on what Her Majesty wants.”
“Really?” I remained suspicious. “Just get him to agree and that’s it?”
“You pulled off that speech. Abi and I will talk a pay rise over with you when you return.”
“Great. Sure. London City at 3PM?”
“Yes. Be there.”
I hung up, exhausted. I marched into my flat to find my roommates watching Love Villa in the living room. They would ask me to join, but I had no interest in that. I wanted to sleep anywhere but on the floor under my desk in the office.
“Evening,” I said.
“Where the hell have you been? You look like shit, mate,” Macha asked.
At least she was honest. That was rare in Brits trying to make polite conversation.
Macha and I had nothing in common. She was a graduate student at the nearby uni who was raised by some sort of appropriative white “healer” in Camden.
While she claimed to bend spoons; her magical skills were that she always paid her rent on time, didn’t bring loud parties back, and was somewhat kind.
She was the best roommate I had in years.
“I haven’t slept. Need to sleep,” I sighed.
“Where have you been?”
“Working,” I answered, not able or wanting to say more.
“What? Where? Why so secret?” Siobhan, my other roommate, asked. Siobhan annoyed the shit out of me but, again, paid the rent, and distracted Macha.
“NDA,” I answered.
“Oh… did you see the King’s speech?”
“We don’t have a king, Siobhan,” I said. “Did you mean The Prince?”
“He’s the king of her heart,” Macha giggled.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, okay. Yes. He did fine.”
I downplayed it. He was very handsome and had been sufficiently well-behaved.
The camera bought it. Given by the horny women in my household, he nailed the landing.
I just didn’t get it. He had that whole billionaire-bad-boy thing going on for him.
I got that. But I didn’t want to be yanked around and reminded I was below him constantly—by him and by the press.
That fairytale of princesshood didn’t appeal to me.
Siobhan giggled. “You’d shag him. Admit it.”
“Unlikely,” I said. “I gotta get to sleep and get up early to visit Abi. She had the baby unexpectedly, so I had to cover for her.”
“Oh did she?” Macha asked.
“Yes. Healthy baby girl. Not sure the name yet. I’m gonna go bring her some food. Then, I’m off on business for a couple of weeks.”
“What? Where?”
“Not quite sure yet,” I lied, knowing full well where.
I didn't want to go. I wanted to sleep for a long time.
I was used to padding the egos of older billionaires who saw me as a piece of meat.
It was my bread-and-butter as the young one on the team.
However, a wayward prince who couldn't even be arsed to remember my damn name was a new bit of fuckery.
I wanted to sleep and ignore Prince Duncan and his fragile ego.