“With the amount they make, they’re doing something right.”
“Oh, by the way, saw your hippo and giraffes doodles. Not something a bad girl would do, but still cute. Keep it up.”
“Thanks.”
The door opens and in walks Prince Harry.
I exhale, already exhausted by His Royal Highness’ presence. Whatever has him coming in four hours ahead of his normal time must stop, for my sanity’s sake.
The next several minutes are spent in uncomfortable silence as I go about organizing the day, and when I’m done with that, I start drawing Sir Fookshit tangled in a web, trapped by an unknown nemesis.
Stacey snorts. “I love it!”
“Doodling is one of the only things that will calm my time anxiety.”
“Are you experiencing that, like, right now?”
“This is going to sound stupid, but I need to get Maxwell up at eight, which is twenty-seven-minutes away. If I don’t find a constructive way to fill the time, I’ll go bonkers.”
“Yeah, let’s try to hide being a head case,” she says, snatching my notepad and flipping through the many pages of doodles.
Harry saunters over to my desk. “Umm, by the way, waking Maxwell is now my job.”
I crinkle my nose and tilt my head to the side. “Pardon?”
“I will be doing the waking.”
Oh, hell, no!
“Is this because you were left out of the Nola Laybecks meeting?” My cheeks flush red with anger, and I ball my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palm. “You’re just jealous that I did something you couldn’t! You could have never done what I did because it takes brains, and careful planning, and—”
“Kids, daddy’s home,” Maxwell says from the office doorway. He’s freshly showered and fully dressed, looking dapper in the beige suit I pulled out for him yesterday.
Something about that smile, his chiseled jawline, and his oh, so sexy dimple has me weak. I mean, nothing has changed, Maxwell has always been a sexy man. But if nothing has changed, why does it feel like everything has changed?
Why do I suddenly want to strip him down and run my hands down those well-formed abs of his?
Calm down. Maxwell totally isn’t your type. This is 100% the fact that he’s trying to help you and not that you’re at all interested in him.
I manage a tight smile, clear my throat, and try to regain some semblance of normalcy. “You’re up?”
His head turns towards me, his gaze moving down my body. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was seeing through the layers, undressing me with his eyes.
“Harry and I will be seeing to my engagements today, and I thought you could use some company.” He nods to Stacey, who’s still sitting on my desk.
“You know, Nadine would be really good in PR, with her overthinking everything,” Prince Harry says with a smile. “Bonus—we wouldn’t have to see her very much.”
“Oh, get over yourself. You’re just pissed that I saved the Nola Laybecks situation,” I snap back.
“Save, is that what you call it? Because it’s not like there’s a collaboration on the table,” Prince Harry returns.
“Yeah, but if I hadn’t been there, then—”
“Children! Neither of you is at risk of losing your job, at the moment, but that can change in the blink of an eye.”
I go back to my computer, more than a little annoyed at Harry and his constant japes.
“Nadine, I won’t be in the office tomorrow, but Stacey will be coming by again to work on a collaborative effort,” Maxwell says with a wink.