Page 63 of The Thing About My Prince
And there he is, over in the garden, crouched in front of the man and the girl in the wheelchair.
All three are having a good giggle.
Dane’s standing a discreet distance away.
“Absolute pleasure to meet you both,” Oliver says as he gets to his feet and offers his hand to the man.
The man stands and takes it, shaking it with earnest gratitude.
“Thank you so much, sir,” he says. “This means the world to us. You have absolutely no idea.”
The man swipes at his face with the back of his hand, obviously wiping away a tear, and Oliver squeezes his shoulder. I wish he weren’t facing away from me and I could see his expression.
“And you, young lady,” Oliver holds his hand out to the girl, who shakes it. “You make sure this one here behaves.” He points at the man. “Don’t let him feed them.”
The girl giggles and nods.
Oliver waves back at them as he heads down a path that leads to another gate to the street. “Someone will be in touch with all the plans.”
Dane catches up to his side and they head together toward the SUV.
What was that all about?Don’t let him feed them?
Would Oliver tell me if I asked him?
Maybe not.
Once he and Dane are out of sight, I head over to the manand the girl, who are now in a full-blown hug, tears trickling down their smiling faces.
“Hi, there,” I say when they release each other. “I’m Lexi, I’m—” I’m about to say working with Prince Oliver, but if they see any photos from the bog treasure hunt, they’ll see me described as his girlfriend. “I’m with Prince Oliver.”
“Wow, that was fast.” The girl’s eyes are wide, their deep brown a stark contrast to her pale skin. And her Scottish accent is adorable.
“He must ha’ folk everywhere,” the man says with a laugh before blowing his nose. “I’m Andrew.” He offers me his hand, then pulls it back and looks at it. “Och, sorry. You dunnae want tae shake hands with a man who just blew his schnoz.”
“Ew, Dad.” The girl screws up her face. “You’re disgusting.”
“And my cheeky daughter ’ere is Kirsty.”
“Delighted to meet you both,” I tell them. “I wanted to ask about the plans the prince was making with you. I wondered?—”
“I’ve wanted tae see a real polar bear my whole life,” Kirsty says.
“Well, she’s seen ’em in a zoo.” Andrew wraps his arm around the girl’s shoulders.
“Not the same as seeing ’em where they really live,” she says.
“Any fact you wantae know aboot a polar bear, you ask her,” Andrew says. “She knows everything. Been obsessed with ’em since she were five.”
“Okay.” I think for a moment. “How much do they weigh?”
“Ha! The exact same question Prince Oliver asked,” Andrew says.
For a fraction of a second, my brain tells me that’s another example of how in tune Oliver and I are. Then my logic saysthat question is pretty much the first easy one anyone would think of that the kid probably knows the answer to.
“Males can be up tae one thousand seven hundred pounds,” Kirsty says with pride. “Which is aboot seven hundred and seventy kilos.”
“You know, I”—Andrew pauses to swallow and sniff—“I cannae believe Prince Oliver would send us to Canada for Kirsty to see ’em in the wild.”
