“What’s your work schedule like this upcoming week?” he inquired.
I swallowed and then spoke, doing my very best to remember my manners. “I work every evening except Friday.”
“Splendid!”
“Really? Why?”
“Well, my friend’s wedding is Friday. I wanted to know if you’d do me the honor of being my plus one.”
I blanched. “R-really? Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” he teased.
“Aren’t you supposed to… I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to take someone you actually know to those sorts of things?”
“I’m getting to know you, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, but–”
William laughed. “Look, Hannah. If I haven’t made myself perfectly clear already, I quite like you.”
“Thanks.”
“Ah, Americans. I love how casual you all are.”
“Thanks?” I repeated again, unsure if what he just said was actually a compliment or not.
“I’d really like to take you along to the wedding. I rather enjoy your company, and I’d rather not be stuck at one of those boring ceremonies all by myself. Plus, there’s free food and drinks. I hear the after party’s going to be off the hook.” He said the last part with a perfect American accent, sounding more like a college freshman going to his first kegger than the elegant gentleman he was.
I laughed. “Okay, okay. But I don’t think I have anything to wear.”
William waved a dismissive hand. “I can help you find something. I’ll even send over a team of stylists to help you with your hair and makeup.”
“That’s very nice of you,” I said. “Thank you.”
William tossed me a wink before taking a bite of pancake directly off of my fork. “You’re most welcome, Miss Milch.”
6
William
I knew that Hannah was beautiful. She wasn’t the normal type of woman that I was attracted to, but there was something about her that made her stand out from the rest. There was a life in her eyes, a spark that filled me with an excitement. Her smile seemed to brighten any room that she was in. Her bubbly laugh was the only thing that filled my ears. It wasn’t fake or forced like the gawdy attempts at humor I was so used to hearing. People thought the best way to get on my good side was laughing at all my jokes, and even at statements that I meant in all seriousness. Everybody seemed to want a piece of me because of who I was and who I was related to. But Hannah wasn’t like that at all. Granted, she didn’t know that I was a prince, but at least I knew that everything about her was genuine.
My stylists helped her pick out a dress and do her hair and makeup. It was an hour-long process, so I wound up waiting for a good portion of it lounging around in the executive suite’s living room. I had to stifle my laughter at the sounds she was making on the other side of the door.
“Don’t you dare come near me with those wax strips!” she shrieked at one point. “You want me to bleach my teeth? Are you kidding me right now? Ouch! Why are you plucking my brows?”
“Let the professionals do their job,” I chuckled loudly.
“When I agreed to go with you to this wedding, I didn’t realize you were going to The Princess Diaries me.”
“If this were The Princess Diaries, Julie Andrews would be telling you to grin and bear it.”
“No, she wouldn’t. Mary Poppins would never let any harm come to me.”
“I’m pretty sure her spoons full of sugar weren’t actually sugar. The kids started hallucinating penguins, after all.”
“Done!” huffed Sergé, my on-call hairstylist. “Good Lord, I want a raise.”
The doors to the second bedroom opened up and out walked Hannah, adorned from head to toe in gold. Her designer dress was made of sparkling golden sequins which, from what I’d been told, had been painstakingly sewn on by hand one row at a time. The fabric hugged her curves, dripping all the way down to pool at her ankles. Sergé had her in a pair of limited-edition Louboutins, which had a golden exterior and their famous red soles. Hannah’s hair had been pulled up into a messy French twist, shiny pins and hair ornaments catching the light to make it appear like a halo was surrounding her head. Loose curls fell at either side of her face, framing her bright eyes and rouged lips. Dangling earrings adorned her earlobes, only adding to the illusion of the halo.
Hannah shifted uncomfortably. “Do I look bad?”
I shook my head, clearing my throat. My entire vocabulary had dropped out of my head for a moment. “No,” I hurried. “No, you look… Uh, you look–”
Sergé walked over to me and placed his arm on my shoulder, leaning in and gesticulating grandly. He was an eccentric man. His silver hair was dip-dyed bright pink, his ear lobes were decorated with all kinds of piercings and spacers. He even wore a bit of eyeliner and mascara to help make his brown eyes pop. He was dressed in a satin purple button-down and matching satin purple pants. I personally would never wear something like that out in public, but Sergé –being Sergé– somehow made it work.