Page 15 of A Royal Menace

But then again, it’s a big convention in a huge hotel. If I put a little effort into it, I’m sure I could manage to avoid him. And I really want to go.

Making the decision, I sit forward and type out a reply to Naomi, thanking her for the opportunity and accepting. She must’ve been checking her email, because I get an immediate response telling me she’ll let the organizers know and that the hotel will switch the canceling teacher’s room into my name.

Checking the time, I realize I only have a few minutes before my students return from lunch, so I pull out my phone to text my group chat with the girls to let them know I’ll be out of town this weekend.

Me:I got a spot at the L.A. convention this weekend! I leave Friday and come back Sunday afternoon.

Joey:Oh, yay! I’m happy for you, Sis. I know you love going to that event.

Twila:

Raven:Wait. Isn’t Mr. Manning going to be there, too?

Me:Ugh. Don’t remind me. I think I can manage to stay away from him all weekend.

Raven:Maybe you shouldn’t.

Joey:Raven, leave her alone.

Raven:I’m just saying, she’s wanted him to dick her down for years, and now’s her chance.

Me:I ABSOLUTELY HAVE NOT WANTED THAT!

My thumbs jab at the screen as I type the message in all-caps to get my point across. What in the hell is Raven even talking about? Is she on drugs?

Raven:Obviously, she’s not ready to admit it to herself, yet.

Joey:Raven.

Raven:Josette.

Me:Both of you, stop. Nobody is dicking me down this weekend, especially not Royal Manning.

Twila:I mean, he is really fucking hot.

Me:I have to get back to work now. Talk to you assholes later.

I drop my phone into my desk drawer and shove it closed roughly. I don’t know what that was all about. Raven knows I can’t stand the man. Why would she say I want him to…?

No. Never going to happen.

Royal Manning is annoying, not hot. I squeeze my eyes closed at the thought as an image of Royal flashes through my mind, unbidden. Okay, fine. Objectively speaking, he’s an attractive man. I can admit that tomyself, at least. But his personality ruins it.

I most certainly do not want him to “dick me down,” as Raven so crudely put it. Not now, not ever.

Most of the drive to Los Angeles was smooth and uneventful, but as soon as I got close to the city, its legendary traffic jammed me up for much longer than it should’ve taken. Royal left at lunch, having had time to secure a substitute teacher for the afternoon. I wasn’t able to do the same on such short notice––all of our district’s subs had been retained by teachers going to this thing––so here I am, rolling up to the hotel a mere hour before the welcome mixer is set to start.

As I walk into the lobby, I immediately spot Royal near a pop-up bar with a beer in his hand. He’s surrounded by a gaggle of women, all of them smiling with pink cheeks and bright eyes.

“Give me a break,” I mumble as I head for the check-in desk.

As if he somehow heard me, Royal’s head snaps in my direction. He grins and lifts his beer in greeting, and several of the women surrounding him shoot laser-hot gazes my way. I can’t stop my eyes from rolling dramatically. Royal’s head tilts back as he laughs, and I shake my head at him before turning away.

“Hello, how may I help you?” a woman in a black blazer asks as I approach the desk.

“Hi, I’m Calliope Barnes, and I’m checking in,” I say, pulling my license from my wallet and passing it over to her.

“Thank you,” she says, her fingers flying across the keyboard in front of her. She frowns at the screen before lifting her gaze to mine. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a reservation in your name.”

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