“I want you to have it.”
I touched the necklace and looked up at him. “Thank you for tonight. It’s the first time I’ve felt like myself since I got here.”
“Be you, Samantha. No one can ask for more than that.”
I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. I lingered for a moment, breathing in his smell before turning and going into my room.
When I closed my door, I leaned against it and took a deep breath. I was in trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Is Your Man a Prince?
—The Jolene Waters Show
The next couple of days were a blur, except for the angry meeting with Duvall where I was told not to duck my security detail again. Becca had not been a happy camper either. I’d had to explain that going out to the bookstore hadn’t seemed like a thing I would need security for, but they only seemed slightly mollified. The only bright spots were the lunches I had with Cathy at a small table tucked away in the kitchen. She gave me the gossip about some of the royals and local celebrities. She was also full of information on the upcoming events and charities.
“What about politics? I know Royals don’t vote or run for office, but is there anything I need to be on the lookout for?”
“Mainly you want to do the political dance if you’re ever on the spot. Vague answers, smiles, and hoping for the best stuff. Anything else can come back to bite you in the arse.” Cathy took a bite of her sandwich.
“So what is our job exactly?” I sipped at the soda I had found in a pantry.
“We host dignitaries, advise parliament, lead charities, and see to our own lands. When something tragic happens in our districts, it’s our job to try to help. Sometimes that’s with money, other times it can be with connections or a simple friendly hand.” She stopped and thought for a minute. “Actually, we’re really busy. It probably feels like you’re doing a bunch of things that don’t matter right now, but you can’t think of it that way. Think of it as networking. You’re building a base of people who might be able to assist you in the future. “
“And in turn I need to help them in some way.” I thought about it. “Oh, man, Cathy. This is such a bad job for me. I’m terrible at keeping my opinions to myself. I’m likely to piss someone off and not on accident. It’s a miracle that I’ve gotten through this week without doing it.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re American and they expect you to be curt and adorable.”
“Uh, that’s offensive.” I shook my head. “There are a lot of Americans that would go out of their way to not insult anyone. I’m just not one of them.”
“Exactly. And people like it. They think it’s refreshing.”
I snorted and almost dribbled soda out of my mouth. “Refreshing. Right.”
“Seriously. I heard you shot down Jeremy and he still wanted you to do his show.” She waved her chip in the air. “He thought it was great that you were so transparent and upfront. No tiptoeing around stuff.”
“Jeremy is a weird guy and I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a spork than be the host of a television show.”
“A spork?” Her mouth twitched.
“Weird little spoon that thinks it’s a fork.”
“You’re kind of crazy.” She smiled. “I can see why Alex is so smitten.”
“Excuse me?” I looked around to see if anyone was listening, but the closest person was washing dishes on the other side of the room.
“C’mon. I’m not blind, Sam.”
“We’re just friends.” I looked down at my food.
“Why?” She pushed my plate with her finger so that I’d look up.
“What?”
“Why are you just friends? You’re wearing the necklace he gave you, he hovers around you like a mommy bear, and the chemistry is disgustingly obvious.” She narrowed her eyes. “Is it because of Melissa? You have to know how much that hurt Alex.”
“No, it’s not that.” I frowned. “There’s just so much going on and I don’t think I can handle a relationship on top of it all.”
“So, it’s because of your father?”
“No. Yes. Partly. It’s everything. I’m trying to learn how to do all this.” I motioned around the kitchen. “Plus, I’m leaving soon and Dad will be here. He’s going to need me.”
“Is that all of it?” She leveled her gaze on mine and I squirmed.
“Did you take classes as a child on how to get what you want?”
“Don’t change the subject, Samantha. What is this really about?” She leaned forward.
“I just told you!”
“You think your father would want you to miss out on something—someone—that would love you because of him? All this change, it’s scary. I get that. But it can be good, too. You don’t see it because you’re living it, but to those of us watching, it’s obvious that you were meant for this job, for this life.”
I chewed on my lip while I pondered what she was saying. “That’s pretty deep for an eighteen-year-old.”
“I might have come from a life of privilege, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have any perspective.” Something in her eyes shifted and I saw a much older girl looking back at me.
“I’m scared.” I said the words in a rush. Maybe if I said it out loud it would make it less real.