while also managing to be an emblem of comfort to the nation. Malcolm often disparaged her, which I suppose is every child’s right, but I knew he admired her as well. He’d do well to take a page from her book while embarking on his new position. If he could manage to harness her strength, the king’s warmth, and combine them with his own irresistible magnetism, he’d be an excellent leader.
“Who was that?” Grier asked, her eyes on me again.
I attempted nonchalance. “That was my old colleague, Anthony. He works for the royal family.”
Her spine straightened as her expression brightened. “Oh, right! I forgot about that one. Well, what did he say? You didn’t let me speak with him.”
A delicate touch was called for here, so I leaned forward, folding my hands in my lap. “Ms. Vorhees, you must know the idea of a member of the royal family endorsing a commercial product is impossible on numerous levels.”
Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean the queen herself. I thought maybe there was a distant cousin—a duke or something who could use a few euros. Every country has its share of royals who’ve fallen on hard times.”
“That may be so, but it’s simply impossible.” I shook my head again and silently pleaded for her to drop it.
But she leaned forward, eager as ever. “How do you know unless we try? It’s practically your motto. It’s not like you to give up so easily.”
My jaw clenched as I sought calmness, but it was no use. “Because I used to work for the royal family!” So much for delicate. “I know their protocols inside and out. I know how the queen takes her tea and how many meters apart the security guards must stand when shadowing the princes. I know everything there is to know, and I know this idea wouldn’t get past the very first stage of approval.”
Grier watched me carefully as my chest heaved and I attempted to collect myself. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I sat back to let the chair support my spine as my breathing slowed. My manic rant just then only proved I’d made the right choice with a career change.
“But your CV… there was nothing in there about the royal family.”
Right. The royal family’s money was a confusing tangle of centuries of private family wealth, income from private endeavors, and a small portion of the taxpayers’ money. “That’s because my employer was technically one of the family’s corporations. It’s to do with a separation from public funding.”
Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head to the side. “So, the executive you assisted for the last four years was…?”
“Prince Malcolm,” I admitted with a short nod.
Grier’s jaw unhinged like a baby bird waiting for a fresh meal. “Get out! Prince Malcolm? Are you joking right now?”
“I’m afraid not.”
She cupped her hands over her mouth, and I considered for a moment that she might be about to cry—it had happened more times than I liked to remember during my time with Malcolm. But, instead, she shot up onto her feet and threw her arms out. “Forget Val Rau! Malcolm Baxter is worlds better!”
You’re on a tropical island with the white sand warm under your feet. “Ms. Vorhees.”
“This will be amazing!” She began pacing behind her desk.
The calming sound of waves repeats while a warm breeze blows. “Ms. Vorhees.”
“Corporate will be eating out of our hands.”
Then sunscreen drips into your eyes and a crab bites your boob. “Grier!”
Her eyes shot to me as her feet ceased their pacing. “What?”
Twenty minutes later, I was still trying to explain to Grier how utterly impossible her idea was while she pretended to not hear a word I said.
“You don’t understand,” I began again, but she cut me off.
“I know you think I’m not listening to you, but I’ve heard you, and now I’m taking a page from your book. We won’t know until we ask, now will we?”
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the hallway wall for a second. We’d moved our discussion to the ladies room—where Grier had insisted I splash my face with cold water—and now to the hallway.
“But that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m not in touch with any of the prince’s staff any longer.”
“Not being in touch doesn’t mean you’ve lost their numbers. You were just chatting up that Anthony fellow. I thought he was your boyfriend.”
I gasped. “I wasn’t chatting him up! I was politely engaged in small talk with a former colleague.”
“Alice.”
“What?”
“Alice.”