How to Catch a Prince

by Ana Ashley

  "That's good. You know the management team is keeping an eye on you for the next sales manager vacancy. These things all count."

  I prayed to my fairy godmother that the train ticket couldn't be amended so I had a genuine reason and evidence to justify being away for the whole week. This was the one vacation I'd booked months ago and was more than entitled to take.

  Another two hours later and only minutes short of the store's closing time, I was finally on my way home. As soon as I was able to claim a seat on the bus, I took my sketchpad out of my bag. I'd seen two teenagers at the bus stop reading from the same book. The image was stuck in my head because unlike most people at the bus stop, the two kids weren't on their cellphones. I wondered what kind of book it was and smiled to myself, knowing that just like those teenagers, when a book really gripped me, I couldn't put it down.

  Despite the bumpy bus ride, as soon as my pencil touched the paper, I felt myself relax and finally wind down from the long busy day at work. My favorite sound in the world was the scratching of graphite on paper, and even with the noise of the bus, I knew it so well it was as though I could hear it as I sketched the outline of the two teenagers.

  "Some people don't know how fortunate they're born."

  I looked at the old lady sitting next to me reading one of those gossip magazines. She shook her head and huffed, muttering something to herself. I went back to my sketch, where I was now drawing the book so the shape between the two figures was a heart. Maybe I could draw the same picture but with two girls and gift it to my sister after the wedding; after all, Hannah and Ellie had fallen in love at Bookmarked, the bookstore in Chester Falls, our hometown.

  "Look at this." The lady nudged me and showed me the magazine. "We work our whole lives and can't even get discounted bus passes, and these princes squander it all away on drugs. Shameful."

  I wasn't sure what the lady expected me to say, but the headline caught my eye. Tension in the Lydovian Royal Family: Prince Kristof caught in drug-fueled party. Beneath the headline, there was a photo of a few people partying in a dark club. From the angle the photo was taken, the man couldn't be identified, but he looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. I didn't bother reading the rest of the article. I gave the lady a smile, pretending to agree with her, and put my sketchpad back in my bag. My stop was coming up and I didn't care much for whatever European royal prince was doing with his money and time. Besides, I had bigger things to worry about such as what to pack for the wedding.

  "Coffee, tea, or cocktail?" Tom, my roommate, called out from the kitchen.

  "Definitely cocktail. And while you're at it, can I have some fairy dust and rainbow sprinkles to transform my wardrobe into something decent?" That last bit was muttered more to myself than my roommate.

  Tom came into my room minutes later with two cocktails in hand. "One cranberry hippo kiss coming right up."

  "Cranberry hippo kiss?"

  "Because when you've had one too many, you won't care if the guy kisses like a hippo. Wet and sloppy."

  "Your cocktails are non-alcoholic," I pointed out.

  "It's the sugar, honey. It'll make you happy. Now, what did you say about sprinkles?"

  "Never mind." I sighed.

  "What's the matter, honeybun?"

  I sat on the edge of my single bed and took a sip of the cocktail, letting the fruity sweet flavor tease my taste buds before I confessed. "I have nothing to wear."

  Tom looked around the room and laughed. "Darling, you have more clothes here than we have in our warehouse at work."

  "Yes, but these are work clothes," I said, leaning against the headboard. I stared at Tom, who was definitely the more fashion-savvy of the two of us, and he had already started pulling clothes from the closet and was holding them up for inspection.

  When I'd started my job as a Christmas temp at Clarence's, Tom had taken the time to teach me the ropes. A temp job had become permanent, and after I'd finished my art degree from the Massachusetts School of Art and Design with no prospects of a real paying job doing what I loved the most, I'd accepted a promotion to sales supervisor alongside my best friend.

  "What are you talking about? You have some great stuff here," Tom said. "Worry not, my friend. There's a reason why you keep me around."

  "What's that?"

  "I'm super fabulous, and I'm going to fabulize the shit out of your wardrobe." I trusted Tom's fashion expertise, but in reality, we had different styles. Tom was like a pixie on crack distributing happy rainbow dust to everyone around him; I was more of a T-shirt and jeans kind of guy. Tom was bright colors and exotic fruit; I was navy blue and steak and fries.

  I admired Tom for being so unashamedly colorful. He knew himself and wasn't afraid to be who he was. The only time I felt the same way was when I had my sketchpad and pencil in my hand, but even then, my drawings were all shades of the same gray color.

  Tom put aside various combinations of shirts, pants, and, thankfully, some comfortable jeans and T-shirts.

  "Here you are," Tom said proudly. "Your vacation capsule wardrobe that will highlight all your best features, and yes, I mean that ass." Tom winked.

  "You have a twitch in your eye," I said.

  "Don't mock my lack of sexy winking capability. God had to give me one flaw. Anyways," Tom said, drawing out the a as he sat next to me on the bed and took the last sip of his cranberry hippo kiss. "What have you got planned for the week?"

  "I think there's a family barbecue, the rehearsal dinner, and then the wedding day. Most of the time I'll be hanging out with my family, I guess," I said without taking my eyes off the bottom of the cocktail glass.

  "You don't sound enthused."

  I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my head on the bed frame, taking a deep sigh.

  "You're going to a wedding, not an execution," Tom said, "and even if it was an execution, it wouldn't be yours, so why the long sigh?"

  "My ex is going to be there."

  And now that I'd said it aloud, my heart rate had picked up its pace, and not in a good way.

  "Why is your ex there?"

  "Ever heard of the boy who fell in love with his brother's straight best friend?"

  "Nooooo." Tom turned around and sat cross-legged in front of me with his head propped on his hands like he was waiting for the scoop of the year. "I have to know this story. You owe me."

  "Why?"

  "Darling, I've just packed your suitcase for you and made you a cocktail. Start talking."

  I groaned.

  "It's not that exciting. Long story short, I had a crush on him but thought he was straight. Turns out he wasn't, but he wasn't out, so our relationship became a secret. He broke my heart, but he's still Connor's best friend, so where the family is, he is too. The end."

  "Oh, Charlie." Tom sighed.

  "Yep."

  And that was the sole dark cloud in the blue sky that was seeing my family. I'd always been an open book as far as my family was concerned. They'd even known I was gay before I came out to them.

  I still didn't know how they'd never found out Rory and I were together all those years ago. I hadn't liked it one bit, but I'd respected Rory's wishes because I'd been so completely under his spell.

  Now? Would I still be able to hide the hurt when in Rory's presence? I wasn't so sure.

  I really missed my family and wished I could see them more, but the thought of bumping into my secret ex still stopped me from getting on the train out of Boston to the small town of Chester Falls, Connecticut.

  Tom jumped off the bed and did a twirly dance around himself.

  "I have the solution," he sang. "I can come with you and be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. I'll make your ex so jealous that by the time I'm finished with him, he'll be flying out of the closet shitting rainbows and glitter."

  I couldn't help but laugh at my friend's crazy solution.

  "Thanks, fairy godmother, but first, no one would believe it. Remember, my brother and sister have m
et you and know we're not together. And second, you're working this weekend."

  Tom deflated a little, and I wanted to hug him.

  "I'll see if I can find someone to swap."

  "No point. Holly is sick," I said, making a double quote gesture with my fingers. "As it is, Frasier already asked me if I could work, so there's no way you can have time off."

  "Are you shitting me? You've had this week booked off for ages. He can't make you come in, can he? Why don't you call HR—"

  I got up from the bed and put my hands on Tom's gesticulating arms.

  "Calm down, superwoman. I've already texted Frasier to tell him I can't change my train ticket. My vacation is going ahead as planned."

  It was nice having someone in my corner at work, and I knew that if Tom wasn't there with me, I'd have quit ages ago.

  "Well, Tinker Bell, I need to sleep because my train is at stupid o'clock in the morning because I must have been drunk when I booked it." I had been. The thought of seeing Rory made me so anxious, I couldn't even book the train ticket without some liquid courage, hence the reason for the 6:00 a.m. ticket rather than the 6:00 p.m. one.

  "Okay, goodnight, sweetie," Tom said before he gave me a hug.

  When Tom left the room, I steeled myself for the one thing I needed to do before I could see my family, but when I reached for my cellphone, I realized I'd been beaten to the post.

  Rory: Hey, Charlie, I was wondering if we could talk before you see your family?

  Charlie: Okay. I'll text you when I get there.

  3

  Kris

  I looked at the moving landscape outside the car window. It hadn't changed much since we'd landed at Boston Logan Airport.

  We'd left the city; I knew that much because since we'd left the highway, we'd driven through what looked like smaller towns.

  For a moment, I wondered if it would have been better to have gone to England instead. There the green rolling fields with patches of trees peppering the boundaries, the small villages with handfuls of cottages and the obligatory church at the end of the road, and the rose bushes and green hedges were so much like Lydovia, I knew I'd have felt more at home.

  "Where is this place we're going to?" I asked.

  I looked at the man sitting beside me, his eyes focused on the road. James was still tall. Taller than me, which was something considering I was six foot three, but he was no longer the skinny, cute guy I’d met years ago. Far from it. This new James was built like a tank with muscles in all the right places.

  Keeping my security team to a single person had been a long argument with my father and sister, but one I'd won in the end.

  When I was introduced to the man assigned with keeping me safe, I wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for the one feature that hadn't changed one bit: his baby face.

  James and I had met at college. He'd stood out from the rest of the students because he hadn't worn the right clothes and had kept mostly to himself, but what was special about him was that he didn't rely on his family name to get anywhere. He worked hard for everything he had, from the books he needed to the grades he got.

  I, on the other hand, had worked so hard to be invisible that I'd stood out only to one person. The one who, when he'd found out who I was, never stopped treating me like the friend I didn't think I'd need while I was away from home and Sergei.

  After Harvard, James had joined the army. I'd never understood why tall, skinny James Bennett had wanted to go into the army, but he'd just said it was something he had to do.

  We'd kept in touch over the years, but he never talked about work or his life. All I knew was that whatever he did, it took him all over the world. That I figured out from the collection of cheesy postcards I'd collected over the years from him.

  "We're not far now, sir."

  "James, did you or did you not have your tongue down my throat five minutes after we first met and before I even had a chance to tell you I had a boyfriend at the time?" I looked at him and saw a cute blush appear on the tops of his ears.

  "Yes…sir, that is er…affirmative."

  "For goodness sake, James, there's no one around. Please call me Kris."

  "Yes, sir," he replied with a smirk.

  True to his word, James turned into a road leading up to what looked like an English manor house at the top of a long driveway. Each side of the driveway was green with low-cut grass, but the lack of trees was disappointing. I loved walking outdoors, so the featureless fields surrounding the house were disheartening to see.

  "What is this place?"

  "It's um…it's my house."

  James's normally steady voice faltered slightly, giving me the sensation this wasn't an easy topic of conversation, so I didn't press for more information. As far as I remembered, James's family was just his mom who lived in Boston, and she certainly didn't have the means to own such a property.

  The closer we got to the house, the more I realized how big it was, and also was able to observe the state of disrepair it was in. James pulled the car around the side of the house.

  I could already feel the muscles in my legs aching for a stretch with the sound of the gravel as the car came to a halt by a set of double doors. Between the flight and the car journey, I could have done with a good walk.

  "James, my love, you're here." A tiny lady in a cream and white uniform, and with a clear Irish accent, came out from inside the house and beelined for James. I smiled at seeing how big burly James was no match for a hug from the much shorter and smaller woman.

  "Kris, this is Mary, the superpower who runs this house for me." And then it was my turn to be on the receiving end of a warm hug. "Mary has seen more royalty through these doors than a Hans Christian Andersen fairytale, so to her, you're just Kris.

  I chuckled, but in reality, I was relieved. If I was meant to lie low, I wanted the opportunity to be treated like a regular person.

  "The phone has been ringing off the hook with the press wanting to interview Prince Kristof. We have declined to make a statement, but you know it's only a matter of time until they come here."

  I saw James immediately go into special-agent mode. He looked around as though he was expecting real swarms of photographers and journalists. Not that there was any threat against me. I just didn't want the press to know where I was and come flocking to the area and disrupting local people's lives looking for the latest scoop on the prince of Lydovia.

  Frustration rose in my chest. If they bothered to check their "facts" before printing their stories, none of this would be necessary, because for all the stuff that appeared in the press, I led a very boring life, and it wasn't often I allowed myself to act my age and go to a club.

  "How did this happen?" James asked. "No one knew we were coming here, Mary."

  "I've been asking myself the same question. I can trust all our house staff, and even then, only a few knew the exact identity of our guest. I don't know what to say."

  I felt like the proverbial rug had been pulled from under my feet. I was hoping for a peaceful few weeks alone, and now I was likely going to be under virtual house arrest.

  "Ah, Master James." A man dressed head to toe in tweed joined us. "How are you, son? And this must be Prince Kristof. Welcome, Your Royal Highness."

  "You can call him Kris, otherwise he gets a big head, Rupert," James said as Rupert stretched out his hand to shake mine.

  "I have a solution," Rupert said. "There are a number of family-run hotels just as you're approaching the next town. My suggestion is that Kris stays in one of them until we can respond to the press and throw the scent off. He won't be recognized by the locals. Most people around here only care about cows and the price of milk. They don't read those gossip magazines."

  James stared at the driveway. His brows were drawn together as he took his cellphone out of his pocket and paused before dialing a number.

  "Um hi, it's me," James said before turning away from us. "I need a favor." He moved out of earshot.

 
James's free hand went up to rub the back of his neck as he heard whatever the caller on the other side said.

  He paused again and turned around. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

  "James," I started, but he waved his hand and turned his attention back to the call.

  "Thank you. That's really great of him to do that." James looked like he was ending the call, but then said, "Um, no, that was all, thank you. Yeah, that would be good. Bye."

  Mary took a deep sigh, and Rupert put his arms around her.

  "I know, my darling, we never get him for long," he said.

  "I hoped it would be longer this time," Mary replied with resignation.

  "Hope the five-minute leg stretch was long enough because we're getting back in the carriage for another couple of hours," James said, joining us. "I found you a new castle."

  "Does it come with its own prince?"

  James laughed. "Nope, it's too early for pumpkin season."

  We said our goodbyes to Mary and Rupert, and I apologized for not staying longer. Despite the brief introduction, I'd liked the couple and was sad to leave them.

  Minutes later, we found ourselves back in the car in the direction of the highway. Under normal circumstances, I'd have been restless and frustrated, but I was surprisingly calm. Maybe it was the jetlag. I chuckled.

  "What," James said.

  "Nothing, just funny that I have no clue where I am or where I'm heading, but the press seems to have no issues finding out."

  "Yeah, sorry about that. Mary is lovely but too trusting. I'm pretty sure it was someone in the house that tipped them off. I don't know them all yet, but I'll look into it."

  "Want to tell me about it?" I asked.

  "Nah, it's a long, boring story."

  "Well then, in that case, how about you tell me where you're taking me?"

  "We're going home."

  The way James said it made me look at him. He was looking forward, focused on driving, but there was something about him I couldn't put my finger on.