After the school, we went shopping. Becca seemed to enjoy watching me suffer through it all. And suffer I did.

Chadwick was a slave driver, constantly handing things over the door. It was as much fun as I thought it would be, but I left with several dresses from a Lilarian designer, dressy slacks, and new sweaters. I was fairly certain I had offended Chadwick with my sense of style. He would shake his head and put something on the counter I had originally declined.

“Trust me. If I wasn’t the assistant extraordinaire, I would have gone into fashion.” He mock-glared at me and I pretended to roll my eyes. “This will look great on you, ma’am.”

“Why did I even have to come if you were going to pick everything out?” I looked at him in disgust.

“You did find that gorgeous sweater, so you’re not completely hopeless. Think of me as a fashion guru and you’re my reluctant protégé.”

I laughed at him, glad we were getting along so well. It was a bit like having Jess with me. She had texted me to let me know I had been on the news. Apparently my landing had been streamed on live TV in the States. I had been horrified, but she seemed to have loved it. Said it felt like she had been there. My father had another chemo treatment today and I was feeling incredibly guilty for shopping while he went through that torture. Patricia had texted me to let me know he was fine and that they had watched me on the news.

I needed to call Dad soon and made a mental note to try later tonight. I wanted to hear his voice. I had been busy from the moment I set foot here, but I was still more than a little homesick.

Chapter Eighteen

Romantic Dinner or Friendly Get-Together?

—Lisa Talks

Once the sky began to darken, Chadwick started to hurry me along.

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I rolled my eyes at him. “Do you want me to get new nightgowns or what? There’s a billion to choose from.”

“Yes. I got down on my knees this morning and prayed you would get rid of those hideous nightshirts, but we’re running out of time, ma’am.” He tapped his watch. “Prince Alex and Princess Catherine will be waiting for you, so just pick something.”

“All right, all right.” I grabbed several different colors of the one I was looking at and headed toward the clerk. “And stop calling me ma’am. You’re older than I am. Just call me Sam.”

“Sam?” He wrinkled his nose at me. “I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just that Sam doesn’t really seem like the name of a duchess.” He looked at my face and backpedaled. “Not that there is anything wrong with Sam. What about Samantha?”

“Fine.” I shrugged. “Anything is better than ma’am.”

“Well, only in private of course. It would be highly inappropriate if I called you that in public.”

I ground my teeth. “Okay.”

“It’s not so bad.” He patted my arm.

The staff hadn’t batted an eye when I’d come through the door, but it made me feel awkward to buy anything like a nightie. What if it ended up on the news? The cameras and news vans had lowered in numbers the longer we shopped, but as soon as I left the store I ran into a crowd of people hollering my name. Chadwick put an arm around me while Becca made a path for us to the car.

I thought we were in the clear as we pulled away from the curb, but cars surrounded us almost immediately.

“What are they doing?” I leaned forward to look out the window. “This is dangerous!” I squeaked when a car swerved close to us around a corner. Our driver slammed the brakes and we skidded, just missing the curb.

“Sit back, Samantha.” Chadwick moved to make sure I was buckled in.

“This is cr—”

A light blue van slammed into the back of our car, making my teeth snap shut. Blood pooled in my mouth from where I nipped my tongue. I covered my lips with my hand and looked around wildly. Camera flashes blinded me as I tried to see just what had happened. A motorcycle stopped in front of our car and the person on the back snapped pictures through the front windshield.

“Are you okay?” Becca turned around in her seat.

“Yeah.” I nodded my head and tried to quell the nausea that was bubbling in my stomach. Adrenaline and anger ran through my body. Balling my hands into fists I glared out the window at the people still busy taking photographs.

“Can you get us out of here?” Chadwick asked.

“As soon as I have an opening.” The driver never took his hands off the steering wheel.

“Should we call the police?” I looked from Becca to Chadwick.

“Best to get out of here fast.” Becca shook her head.

My door handle made a loud noise as someone tried to open the door. I turned to check that it was locked and almost sighed in relief when I realized it was closed for sure. The driver took his foot off the brake and edged forward. I watched as he pushed the bike with the front fender and almost cheered when the motorcycle driver pulled away from us.

Our car shot forward and I felt like celebrating, but I still felt sick. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that someone had hit our car just to get a picture of me.

“It’ll calm down, Samantha. They just don’t know what to make of you.” Chadwick patted my arm.

“Are you kidding? They could have hurt us! They did hurt us! I bit the shit out of my tongue.” I waved my hand in the air. “All that for a picture of me? Me? Why?”

“You’re interesting and they make the most money by selling photos of interesting people.” Chadwick pursed his lips.




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