by Noelle Adams
“Do you want to work out with me this evening?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Hmm. That wasn’t what I was supposed to have said.
But I felt no regrets at all as I hurried back to change clothes and then met him in the hallway. There was a very nice workout room on the floor below us, so we went downstairs. I was pleased to see that no one else was in the room when we walked in.
We’d worked out together quite often. Jack liked to work out most evenings, and I could use the exercise too—although I wasn’t as inclined in that direction as he was.
It was always a practice in discipline for me to work out with him, though. Not because of the exercise. I’d grown up dancing ballet and jousting, so I was in decent shape. The discipline came in not staring lustfully at Jack’s body the entire time.
He had a very good body. I was more aware of it now than I’d been three weeks ago. I loved the breadth of his shoulders, the smooth line of his back beneath his shirt, the rippling contours of his arms, the strength of his legs, the flatness of his abdomen. I even loved the hair on his arms and legs and how sweaty he got when he worked out. It made him seem more real, like he wasn’t just a vision from my fantasies but a living, breathing human man.
So while I tried to focus on the elliptical trainer, I mostly just thought about him.
We worked out for an hour, talking about his day at work and about a special seminar in Renaissance art my professor had told me about this morning.
“It’s just two weeks long,” I explained. “It starts a week after graduation, and it’s very intensive, lasting for most of every day.”
“It sounds terrible to me, but I bet it would be right up your alley.”
“Yes. I’d love to attend. It’s by invitation only, and mostly graduate students participate, so it’s a real honor that he invited me.”
“So you should do it.”
“I’m supposed to move back home right after graduation.”
“But the seminar is just two weeks, right? All you’ve got to do is delay your move by three weeks.”
“It’s not as easy as that. All the plans have been made.” I felt depressed, thinking about it. “My mother has organized a ball in my honor the week after graduation. Hundreds of people are invited. I have to be there.”
“A ball?” Jack’s eyebrows were sky high.
I realized my mistake immediately. “Oh. Yes. It’s what she calls her fancy parties.”
Jack wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Well, then go visit them for that week after graduation and then come back here for the two weeks of the seminar. It could still work.”
My heart jumped in excitement when I heard the suggestion, but my mind soon caught up with the hope. “It wouldn’t be worth it. All that hassle and travel just for a two-week seminar. Since I’m not going to graduate school, I couldn’t do anything with the credit anyway.”
“I think you could. I think you should do it. Think about it anyway.”
“Okay. I will.” I mostly said it to end the subject, since it was making me anxious and upset. Jack always made decisions seem so simple, but anything involving my family could never be simple.
We talked less as we started to exert more effort. When I was worn out, I got off the machine and wiped my face and arms with a clean towel, telling myself not to leer at Jack who was cooling down on the treadmill.
“Ugh,” he said, when he finally got off and grabbed a towel.
“What? Did you exercise too hard?”
“No. I was actually just remembering tomorrow night.”
“What about tomorrow night.”
“I have to go to this stupid banquet.”
“What banquet?”
“It’s a work thing.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I hate formal shit like that. I avoid it as much as I can. But I really can’t get out of this one.”
“I’m sure it won’t be too painful.”
“I’m sure it will be. I don’t even have anything to wear.”
“Do you need to wear a tuxedo?”
“God, I hope not. I don’t think it’s black-tie or anything.”
“So just wear a dark suit.”
“All I have is a gray one that I’ve worn about a hundred times.”
“You only have one suit?” I stared at him in amazement. He always dressed casually for work, but his comment was astounding to a girl who owned about four dozen evening gowns.
“I think I might have an old one I used to wear to church with my mom, but it’s at her house in my hometown, and it never did fit very well.”
“What do you wear to weddings?”
“I don’t go to weddings if I can help it.” He smiled sheepishly and wiped more sweat from his face. “So now you see why I’m dreading the banquet so much.”
“Just go to buy a suit tomorrow.”
“I hate shopping.” He was scowling, and it was clear that shopping was just as distasteful to him as banquets were. “But I guess I’ll have to. You don’t want to come and pick something out for me, do you?”
“I will, if you want me to.” Next week was the last week of school, and then the following was exam week. But I only had one final to take, since the other classes culminated with major projects, and I’d turned in the last of my projects that morning. The final exam in Modern European History I could do in my sleep, so I had absolutely nothing I needed to do until graduation except sit through a few boring classes. “But how hard can it be to pick out a suit.”
“It can be hard. Believe me.”
I laughed. “Then I will help you. I’m sure you will look very handsome in a good suit.” I’d mostly been teasing, although I knew for sure that Jack would look breathtaking in a suit.
“You think so?” he asked, his voice a little huskier than before.
I was suddenly trapped by his gaze again. “Yes. I do.”
He leaned a little closer. “Just so you know, I really want to kiss you.”
I gulped, my skin breaking out in a little bumps from my excitement and rising desire. I tried to speak but couldn’t say anything.
He gave me a little smile and stepped back. “Just letting you know.”
***
The next day, I was leaning against a wall in the dressing room of a department store, waiting for Jack to try on a suit.
We’d gone to a big shopping center not too far away, and I’d tried to get him to go into one of the nicer men’s stores, but he flat-out refused anything that looked too “rich and fancy.” So we’d settled on a department store that I knew carried a wide selection of decent designers.
Jack had grumbled the whole time we’d browsed the men’s department, and he’d frowned at the three suits I’d picked out for him to try on. I would have been offended by his reaction, but I knew his problem was with the idea of a suit rather than the particular choices I’d made for him.
“How long does it take for you to put on a suit?” I asked through the door, after I’d waited for what felt like an excessively long time.
“The first one was too tight in the shoulders,” he replied gruffly.
“I could go get you a different—”
“I didn’t like it anyway. This one is okay. I guess.”
I tried not to chuckle at how aggrieved he sounded. He was such a nice, agreeable guy. Who would have expected for him to put up a fuss about something as simple as wearing a suit?
“Well, let me see it,” I told him. When he didn’t reply, I added, “Jack. Open the door.”
He did as I said with a stifled grumble, and I stared at him as he stepped outside.
He looked incredibly handsome in the well-made black suit. It fit over his broad shoulders and athletic body exactly right, and he looked far more polished and sophisticated than he normally looked.
“Well?” he demanded with a frown, when I did nothing but stare.
“It’s great,” I managed to say, forcing my eyes back up
to his face. “You should get that one.”
He tugged at the collar of the shirt I’d picked out for him to wear with the suit. “Does it have to be so uncomfortable?”
I smothered a teasing laugh. “Once you have to wear bras and high heels, then you can complain about uncomfortable clothes.”
Jack perked up at my comment—probably at the mention of bras. “Are you going to try on any of those today?”
I laughed out loud. “Definitely not.”
“Are you sure? I’d be happy to tell you how you look in them.”
“I think I’m well enough stocked in bras and heels for the moment. Change clothes again, and we’ll buy your suit.”
It didn’t take long for Jack to change into his jeans and T-shirt, so soon we were standing in a short line at the register. Jack was still occasionally complaining about the suit he had to wear, and I was leaning against him without thinking anything about it. His hand was resting on my back, and it felt strangely familiar—like it should have been there all along and I’d been missing it all this time.
I was telling myself to straighten up and not get ideas I could never indulge in when I noticed two teenaged girls who’d been browsing through the jewelry department nearby.
They weren’t looking at jewelry now. They were looking at me.
Their expressions immediately made me nervous. I’d seen those looks before—usually in Europe where it was more likely for someone to recognize me. I turned my head so they couldn’t see my face as clearly, but I kept glancing toward them through my hair.
They were both looking at something on one of their phones—their eyes shifting from the screen of the phone and up to me over and over again.
I felt a chill of bleak anxiety.
I’d made it this far with no one recognizing me. Surely it wasn’t going to all fall apart now.
No one in the States had even heard of Villemont, much less recognized the oldest princess of the royal family. No one here cared about me at all, and I’d enjoyed the feeling of anonymity for the first time in my life.
I straightened up and turned my back on the girls, praying they’d give up and move on.
Jack’s expression changed as he studied my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I smiled up at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the girls.
He noticed them. A frown deepened on his face as he stared in their direction, over my shoulder. “Do you know those girls?”
I glanced back, as if I hadn’t been aware of them before. “No. I don’t think so. Why?”
“They’re staring at you.” He scowled in their direction, and I was pleased to see that it scared them off. They turned away from us and focused on the jewelry again, both of them giggling a little nervously.
Jack looked like he was going to say something else, but fortunately it was our turn at the cash register, so he was distracted by paying for his suit.
I tried to push the episode out of my mind, but I couldn’t help but wonder how teenagers in Minnesota could possibly know who I was.
***
We were on our way back to the car when I noticed a large store at the end of the strip to our right. “That’s your store, isn’t it?”
Jack glanced over at the sporting goods store. “It’s not really mine.”
“It’s one of the stores for your company?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“It’s huge.”
“We’ve grown a lot in the last ten years.” He sounded casual, as if the growth of the business wasn’t all that important, but I knew he worked very hard. He hadn’t just inherited his position as head of the company. He’d more than earned it. When his father had died, there had been five stores, and now there were eleven, spanning three different states.
“Let’s go in.” I’d never actually been into one of his stores, since I wasn’t in the habit of buying sporting goods, but I suddenly wanted to see it. I wanted to know more about him.
“Why bother?”
“I want to,” I said, widening my eyes as I looked up at him. “Why won’t you go?”
“There’s always a big production when I go in.” He cleared his throat, and evidently my pleading expression helped make up his mind. “All right. Fine. We can go in. But don’t blame me if there’s a big hoopla.”
“Why would there be a hoop-la?” I’d never actually heard that word before, but I thought I understood it from context.
“Don’t ask me. But there always is.” As he muttered, he took my arm and steered me toward the store.
I understood what he meant by hoopla when we stepped inside. An elderly man was acting as a greeter, but he recognize Jack immediately. “Mr. Watson!” he exclaimed, his mouth breaking out in a smile. “Welcome, Mr. Watson! We weren’t expecting you.”
“I’m just doing some shopping for fun,” Jack explained, glancing around almost nervously, as if he expected some sort of onslaught. “Don’t mind me.”
The man evidently didn’t take the last comment seriously. He was calling out for Martha, who was evidently the manager on duty, and the woman came running over with what looked like genuine excitement.
We ended up being greeted by nearly every employee in the store, and Martha gave us an extended tour—which I understood to be for my benefit, since Jack clearly knew his way around.
Jack kept giving me sheepish looks, as if apologizing for the excessive attention, but I didn’t mind at all. I was often treated to this sort of response when I entered establishments in Villemont, but it wasn’t exactly the same.
People paid me and my family attention purely because of who we were, because of our positions. But these people in the store weren’t just sucking up to Jack. It was more than evident that they all sincerely liked him, and they were pleased by his presence when they weren’t expecting him, as if he’d done them a favor by coming to visit.
It made me strangely happy—this evidence that Jack was liked and respected by so many people, from the manager down to the teenager who worked in the stock room.
He deserved it. He was such a good man. I was so glad that people other than me had recognized it too.
So I was feeling far fonder than was good for me and had somehow ended up holding onto Jack’s arm as we were finally leaving the store.
“I told you,” Jack murmured dryly. “Hoopla.”
“I thought it was so nice. They all love you so much.”
He shrugged off the comment, but I could tell he’d kind of liked it.
He was about to say something else when a college-aged couple across the parking lot stopped suddenly and pointed at us.
Pointed at me.
They’d somehow recognized me too. Twice in one day. Something was definitely going on.
“What the hell?” Jack muttered. “It’s like they think you’re someone famous or something. Who do they think you are?”
A wave of cold fear washed over me. I could tell him now that I was a princess of a tiny European country. Part of me wanted to confess so I didn’t have to continue keeping this secret. But as soon as I told him, he would look at me differently, treat me differently. Everyone always had all my life. It was only here, where I could be anonymous, that I’d been treated like a normal girl.
And I didn’t want Jack to treat me differently. I liked how he treated me now. Like I was a real person, not just a princess.
“I have no idea,” I managed to say, pulling on his arm to get him to keep walking toward his car. “Let’s get home. You’ve got your banquet tonight, remember?”
“I remember.” He was still frowning toward the young couple, but then he turned back to me with a look that was almost sly. “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”
I gasped. “What?”
“I’ll feel better about the whole thing if I have a date.”
“And you want me to go?”
“Of course. You picked out the suit, so you should probably see it in action.”
I tried to mak
e myself say no, but I simply didn’t want to. I only had two more weeks with Jack as it was. I wanted as much time as I could get. “Okay. I’ll go.”
***
When I got home and checked my texts, I discovered why multiple people had recognized me in one day.
My brother, Henry, had sent me a message. Mother’s been at it again. Plotting to make sure you come home. Then he sent me a link to an article about the Rothman family in a popular magazine—focusing particularly on the oldest princess who was going to college in Minneapolis. There were two photos of me, one on a horse and one from a formal event where I’d been wearing a crown.
I cringed at the number of times the article had been shared. It was making the rounds on social media. No wonder I’d been recognized twice. I was almost surprised more people hadn’t noticed.
My first instinct when upset was always to call my sister, Victoria, who is just a year younger than me. I dialed her number and waited, but she didn’t pick up. I left a short message and felt a twisting in my stomach. She hadn’t picked up my calls a lot lately. I couldn’t help but wonder why.
Then my mind returned to the more pressing anxiety.
What if Jack found out I was a princess? I felt kind of sick but tried to reassure myself with the fact that he spent very little time on social media, and he wasn’t the kind of guy who would read that magazine.
I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d think if he found out, but I already knew the answer.
He hated wearing a suit. He hated going to banquets. He hated any sort of hoopla or excessive attention.
There was no way in hell he’d want to hook up with a princess.
Three
Later that evening, as the banquet was wrapping up, I was finally starting to relax.
I’d been on edge all night, always waiting for someone to recognize me, but no one appeared to do so. Jack acted exactly as he always had, and none of the well-dressed people who approached us to chat treated me as anything other than Jack’s date.
The formal part of the banquet was over—it had been one of those annual ceremonies for a business association Jack belonged to, and he’d had to attend because he was presenting the award for volunteer of the year—and I’d wandered over to look out a window on my own because Jack had gotten pulled into a private work discussion.