Page 4 of Royal Hottie
Full of himself? Check times a gazillion.
What is his problem? Coming in here, where I’m trying to do my job, and telling me to leave? Informing me he wouldn’t go on a date with me for any price? Uh, hello! Did Iaskhim on a date? The guy so believes the hype he can’t imagine anyonewouldn’twant to go on a date with him.Ooh, I’m the royal hottie.Get over yourself. Like I want to be his flavor of the week. Geez. I’ve spent the last two months recovering from a disastrous long-term relationship, which led to losing my job and moving in with my parents. Not where I want to be at twenty-five years old. A playboy like him is the very last thing I need.
I’m not saying he’s not gorgeous; he totally is with thick dark brown hair, striking aquamarine blue eyes, high cheekbones with hollows under them, a strong jaw, and full lips. His five-foot-eleven frame is muscular perfection from his wide shoulders to his bulging biceps, barrel chest, narrow hips, and thick muscular legs. Okay, so I’m one of his fangirl followers. I might have memorized his stats and/or ogled his shirtless self on the beach with his current supermodel girlfriend. It was fun to fantasize about the playboy prince. Now that’s all out the window because the reality is he’s an arrogant rude full-of-himself prince.Hmph.
This interior design job is a golden opportunity and one I don’t take lightly. When Anna called me on Sunday morning to offer me the job, I got myself on the next flight out. She’s reimbursing me for the travel expense in my paycheck too, knowing I’m broke. She’s the real deal, a loyal true friend, and I don’t find it much of a stretch to call her queen. Her mother-in-law stepped down as queen on her husband’s death and is now a princess again.
Anna has already done a wonderful job choosing the furniture, bedding, and draperies. I’m just adding the final touches. The only issue is there are few local island resources for what I need—lighting, decorative accessories, a new fireplace mantel for the master suite—and I’m hampered in working with the closest place to shop, France, by the fact that I speak zero French. Also, I’m on a nail-biting deadline—only one week until her guests arrive. Wait, what time is it here? I’m so thrown off by the time zones. The guests arrive next Sunday night, and it is now plus six hours from East Coast time…Monday afternoon local time. Great, I actually only havesixdays.
Breathe!
First, I need more art. I grab the art brochure with information on the artists who did the suite’s paintings. I need to track down these people. I head back to my room one floor up from here and call the servants’ quarters for my maid, Maya. We met earlier. She’s close to my age and we got along well. I’ve decided she’ll be my ally in finding everything I need. Heck, for all I know she speaks French. Many on the island are bilingual, though English is the official language. Wouldn’t that be great?
Maya arrives in a shockingly speedy time, knocking on the open door. Her dark brown hair is in a neat bun, and she wears the servant’s uniform of white shirt and black pants.
“Come in, Maya. Thanks for coming so quickly.”
She bobs her head. “What can I get you, ma’am?”
“By any chance do you speak French?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Do you know anyone who does?”
“The men who work with the horses and the chef.”
I consider this. I feel like I’d be taking them away from work that’s important to the palace, and they probably would be zero help with decorating stuff. “Okay, no worries.” I grab the art brochure and hand it to her. “Where can I find these people? I want to buy more local art.”
She scans the names and looks up at me, regret in her eyes, her lips turned down. “Ma’am, most of the artists on this brochure are also fishermen. They’re already out to sea. A few might appear at the Saturday market.”
“That’s very late. Anna’s guests arrive on Sunday.”
She brightens. “Actually, I know a woman who does murals who might be available. She did the local nursery school’s walls with fairy-tale scenes.”
“Ooh, yes! I could have a central ceiling painting in the master suite living room featuring a fantastical sea scene with mermaids and sea nymphs. And for the bathrooms, a painted starry sky framed to look like a fake skylight right over the whirlpool tub. Do you know someone local who paints canvases that might be available right away? I could use them for the fake skylights.”
She studies the brochure for a moment. “We could try Jeanne. She paints on all kinds of surfaces.”
“Great!” My brain starts cranking with the logistics. If I have to, I could skip the bathroom paintings and do something with pinholes of light through a dark fabric for a fake skylight. I suddenly realize Maya is talking.
I refocus on her. “What’s that?”
“Do you need me for anything else, ma’am?”
“Actually, I need you for everything. Could you be my personal island guide and help me all week with the interior decorating in the royal fantasy suite? You could be my assistant.”
Her hand goes to her throat. “I don’t know anything about interior design, ma’am. I’m here to serve our honored guest.”
“This is how you can serve me. Please. I can’t do it alone, and I only have six days. I don’t want to disappoint the queen.”
Her brown eyes widen. “Oh, no, me either. Let me check if it’s okay and then I’m happy to assist.”
I throw my arms wide. “Thank you!”
She blushes and smooths her hair back. “Just a moment, ma’am.” She goes to the phone and has a quick whispered conversation. I hear “Her Majesty, the Queen” thrown in a few times and then she turns to me. “All set! Where should we start?”
“We’re going to visit with the artists, and then you and I are going shopping at the palace!”
