“Prince Andrew Harrington and Eliza Noble,” I heard Haddish say.
I didn't recognize the name. Who was Eliza? That was when she turned to me, her eyes locking on mine.
Did I just hear him correctly? Had I been that lucky? Hell yeah!
My lucky day!
Of course, the look on her face was none too pleasant. She was livid. Was she still burnt over the coffee? Her car trouble? Where was her sense of humor?
I was going to get to the bottom of it. If we were to work on this project together, and she was bitter about me, then she might tell Haddish that I didn't work on my part just so she could get out of working alongside me.
No, this wasn’t going to happen. I had to be as polite to her as possible and find out what her problem was.
4
Eliza
Did I really just hear my name called right after Prince Andrew Harrington? I hoped no one saw me roll my eyes or heard me let out that sigh of disgust. I turned to look at him, and he was busy looking around the room for who he was paired with.
Hey, pillock, look down here; it's me!
His eyes finally met with mine, and he smiled. I could feel my skin crawling at the mere mention of our names in the same sentence. I couldn’t believe that I’d have to work with that snob. What could I have done to deserve fate being this cruel to me? Ugh, I hated spoiled brats. This was going to be a very long semester. I knew one thing for sure—he had better pull his weight and do his part, or I would tell Professor Haddish he was a slacker. He wasn’t going to think that I’d do it all and he’d skate by on my hard work and pull out a great mark at the end of the semester. Like hell he would.
After gathering my books, I looked up at him once more and saw him giving a fist bump to some guy who was dressed in a pink button-down shirt and black pants. Probably one of his rich, snobby friends who drove a Bentley or, better yet, was driven to class each day by a driver who needed his boorish job just to put food on the table for his family.
That was when I remembered my broken down heap of scrap metal was still sitting in the parking lot at The Pour Pauper, needing a tow. That I couldn’t afford.
Oh my God, what a day!
First, my car, then my entire semester ruined because I’d have to babysit a prince for four months. What else could life deal to me that would cause me grief today? I dared to question.
Gathering my books to leave class, I suddenly thought of a solution. Making my way down front, I took a deep breath before speaking.
“Professor Haddish, my name is Eliza Noble,” I said.
Without looking up from his books, he spoke. “Yes? What may I do for you?”
His deep tone and the patches on the elbows of his suit coat made me think he needed a pipe between his lips. I could almost picture him at home in the evenings. After dinner he would retire to his study, with his gray cardigan and his pipe that smelled of menthol flavored tobacco, his brandy snifter, and a stack of papers that he wasn’t too fond of having to grade.
“Yes, Miss Noble?” he looked up at me. “Was there something you wanted to say, or did you just want to introduce yourself to me?”
Wow, what an ass. His tone was sarcastic and uncalled for.
“Actually, there is something that I’d like to ask.” I straightened my posture and set my books on his desk. That drew a look of displeasure from him, and I quickly picked them up.
“Um, well, you see…” I could feel myself getting nervous. More nervous, I should say.
Men like him intimidated me. It all started with my fifth grade teacher, Mr. Sherlock. He was a brooding man who wanted to be anywhere else but in that classroom every day. His displeasure for his career led to frustration which was then transferred onto the students. I made up my mind then and there that I was going to be a teacher. I would teach children, encourage them, and teach them to enjoy the process of learning.
“I'm waiting, Miss Noble. I haven't got all day.” He was stern.
“Oh, yes, of course. I'm sorry. I was wondering if you would please reconsider my partner for the project?”
There, I said it. It was out. Now it was just up to him to deny my request or approve it.
“Why? Do you not get along with the Prince?”
“Um, well, actually, I don't know him,” I said, hoping that would suffice him.
“Well, this is a perfect time for you both to meet and get to know one another. Nothing better than a project that requires teamwork to teach you how to work as a team.”
“But, Professor…” I managed to say before he cut me off.
“Miss Noble, you must learn how to work with whomever you are paired with. There will be times in your life when you are at a job and you have a coworker you may not be particularly fond of. You cannot go to the boss and say that you don't want to work with this individual. If you did, then that would make you appear whiny. So, to answer your question, no, you may not have another partner. It is Prince Andrew and yourself. It is up to the both of you to work out whatever differences you may have and present, on the last day of class, a project that will get you the grade which you deserve.”
I was bummed. All I could do was look at him. Really? Did he even care about my problem? No, he didn't. He was right, though. There would be times in life when I couldn't just choose who I wanted to be around and work with, so I may as well suck it up now and learn how to deal with it.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh, yes. I'm sorry,” I stuttered.
I turned around quickly, eager to get away from the grouchy professor, when I saw the Prince sitting in the front row. He had been listening to me the entire time. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Ugh, now I had to explain things to him. This day would have to get better somehow.
“Hey, Eliza, is it?” he asked, a cocky smirk on his face.
“Yes?” I answered.
“Andrew Harrington.” He thrust he hand toward me, and I reluctantly accepted it. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Eliza Noble. I assume you heard all that.” She motioned toward the professor’s desk then rolled her eyes.
“I did, but I’ll assume you still have a stick in your ass since you’re morning started off poorly.”
“How dare…”
“When would you like to meet to discuss what project we are going to do?” he dismissed, which pissed me off even more so.
His question was valid—we did need to meet and figure all of this out—but his demeanor was as arrogant as I expected him to be. Damn Royals. Prince Drew and I came from very different worlds.
He had come from lavish luxury and a silver spoon in his mouth. I had come from a wholesome middle-class family in Luton where my parents worked hard to put food on the table and keep a roof over our head. We didn’t struggle often, and we had the necessities to get by … until we didn’t. My father worked for the tabloids and covered developing stories on the Royal family for as long as I could remember, from front-page political headlines to silly gossip page turners.
Two years ago, he was covering the visit of the Nishitonis Royal family. It was a monumental event as the Nishitonis family hadn’t visited London in many years, but they were adamant about keeping their family out of the press. Their arrival sparked a large crowd that was uncontrollable among commoners and the media. My father, daring to snap only a few images for his article, images that would be sought out from eager news stations worldwide, was tackled to the ground by three large men, his camera confiscated, but that was the security team’s only concern. Not that they had injured him.
My father was left with a broken leg and crushed collarbone that required surgery. He was unable to work for eight months, and my parents had to use what little they had saved in my university fund for medical bills. That was why I worked so hard to pay for university, because I refused to allow one unfortunate event in my life to knock me down. It proved to my parents that I was responsible and mature and ready for the real world. Luckily
, my father had been back to work for a while now, writing editorials for the newspaper rather than chasing the exciting lifestyle stories and pictures in the field. That one event changed our family’s dynamic and caused enough pain and agony. There were too many could-have-beens to forgive those actions. It would be a grudge I’d likely forever hold.
“Excuse me, Ms. Noble. I do have a busy schedule of classes today. Can we meet up and talk about the project, or should I plan to complete the project alone?” he asked again, and I snapped my eyes up to meet his. There was something about Prince Drew that annoyed me to no end.
As much as I wanted to scream: No, I’m getting out of here, I simply couldn’t. I brushed the infuriating thoughts away and focused on the project.
“Yes,” I said with a sigh. “When did you want to meet with me?”
“How about now?” he replied instantaneously.
“Now?” I questioned. “I thought you said you have a busy schedule?” I goaded, and he quirked his brow. Ah, I understood. He imagined he could just snap his fingers and have things his way. Hell no. “I can't. I have to figure out what I'm going to do about my car before my next class.” My tone was calm, but my voice was laced with irritation.
“Still broke down? You know, you should really get it to a garage soon. I’m sure the radiator is cracked.” I laughed to myself. Like the Prince would know auto mechanics. “I can give you a ride if you’d like. Anywhere you want to go, just name it and I'll take you. It will give us time to discuss what we're going to do for the project.”
I took a deep breath before plunging headfirst into my speech. If we were going to be thrown together by fate, or Haddish in this case, then this Prince was going to hear my ground rules.
“Okay,” I said as I brushed my hair from my face. “I have some rules that you will follow if you work with me. If not, then you need to go to Haddish and tell him that we cannot work together. Maybe he will listen to you,” I said in a huff.
“Rules?” he questioned gently. His tone was different—interested. Intrigued. He was willing to listen to me. He seemed softer than he had earlier. Not that he was rude or anything. Maybe it was just how I perceived him to be instead of actually listening to him to see how he was. He laced his fingers together and relaxed them in his front. “Carry on. Tell about your rules, Ms. Noble.”
“Alright, you don't know me. You know nothing of me, but I am a very hard worker. I worked for two years every day, weekend, and all summer long just to have enough money to come to this university. I studied endlessly to ensure that my grades were such that I would be awarded as many scholarships as I could get. I rode a bicycle to and from my jobs each day because that was how badly I wanted to come here. I didn't get in on my father's or my mother's name. I actually worked to get here!”
I was full steam ahead. There was no stopping me now. I wanted him to know that I was the real deal as far as academics, and I wasn’t going to be taken down by some snotty rich kid who probably couldn't care less if he made it or not.
“I expect you to do your part on this ridiculous project. I will not sit back and watch you party with your friends while I do all of the work and then allow you to sign your name to it. Is that clear?”
I was finished with my rant, but he didn't speak. Instead, he looked hurt. It was as if I had hit him with something hard that truly wounded him.
“Is that what you think of me?” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.
I was caught off guard. Of course it was what I thought of him. He was a Royal, only concerned with himself. Right?
“You really think that I got in here because my mother is the Queen of this country?”
I was beginning to shrink back from my statements. Oh God, why did I have to come across so harshly?
“You think that they accepted me because she wrote some kind of check to them or promised them something in return?” He shook his head. “You know, you began by saying that I don't know you, and that's true, I don't. You don't know me either. You're judging me based on some stereotype that you have in your head about rich people.” He shook his head in disbelief. “That's hardly fair, Eliza. I would never treat you any differently because of what you have or don't have. No matter what opinion you’ve formed of me, I am not that kind of person.”
He was truly angry with me. I had wounded his heart without meaning to. I judged him based on his place in society. He was right—it wasn't fair.
“I'm sorry, Your Royal Highness. I truly am,” I began, bowing my head before he cut me off.
“Hey, are we at the palace?” He tilted my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes. “I’m Andrew, or Drew as I prefer to be called. I don't go for that hoity-toity title crap. I am a regular person just like everyone else. So please, call me Drew. No more with the titles.” I looked away, embarrassed, as he released my chin from his grasp and stepped back.
I smiled at him. I was relieved to find out that he was different. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad working with him after all.
“Look, I'm sorry for the speech. I sometimes get a little riled up and go off before I know it,” I offered.
“It's okay,” he said as he smiled. God, his teeth were gorgeous. So straight and so white, almost like snow. “Now you know what I’m about. I promise to respect you, your work, and our time together, Ms. Noble.”
His words made me flustered and confused, and I had to pinch my eyes closed to clear the thoughts infiltrating my mind. I stepped picked up my books. “Let's figure out when and where we're going to meet.”
“How about my place?” he asked.
I looked at him with surprise. “Oh, really?”
“No, no, no!” he said as he raised his hands in surrender. “I didn't mean it like that at all. I just meant that we can go over to my condo and work. I promise you'll be safe.”
There was a flicker of amusement in his gaze as his cheeks turned red.
“It's alright. How about my place?” I offered. At least I would be on my home turf and in my familiar surroundings.
“That sounds great,” he said with a cheery tone. “When?”
“Well, I'm not sure. I have another class in...” I trailed off as I looked down at my watch. “Oh shit, I have a class starting right now. I have to go!”
“Okay, just let me know. Call me,” he shouted as I ran off.
5
Drew
I was happy that Haddish refused to remove Eliza from my team. I wanted to get to know her and working all semester on a project was the perfect way to learn all about her.
I’d admit, I was more than shocked and very angry at her accusations that I got into university on my mother's merits and not my own. She knew nothing of my grades and test scores, but I intended to show her just who I was.
Did I want to be like my brother, Edward? Yes, I absolutely did. Not the man—the womanizer—many remembered him to be. Since meeting Maggie, Edward had become a different person. He had a wife and family now, and spent many of his days working with charities and organizations to help the citizens of our country.
I could only hope to be the Prince he was someday. I want to have a wonderful woman by my side, a great career, and children. Lots of children, just like Edward.
Maybe he still had an influence on me? Maybe, but at least it was a good influence now.
As I sat in my second class of the day, I thought about Eliza's voice as she read me the riot act. I thought about how her hair rested on her shoulders and how her eyes seemed to look right through me. Wow, I had never felt this way before about a woman that I had just met. There was definitely something special about her.
I was hoping to hear from her before the end of the day. Then I’d realized I hadn’t given her my number, and she had no way of knowing where I lived. Shit. I should have written it down for her.
Statistics class was as boring as watching paint dry as I listened to Ms. Tally go on and on about coefficients and crap. All I wanted was to see Eliza again, maybe take
her out to dinner. Where would we go? What did she enjoy doing? Who knew, but I was up for the challenge of finding out.
As the clock seemed to stand still, time passed more slowly than it ever had before. Finally, I heard Tally dismiss class.
“Damn, bro, I didn't think we'd ever get out of here,” Clayton said. He was in all of my classes because we had the same major. Clayton and I had been best friends since we were born, it seemed. His father and my father had been best friends, and when my dad passed away, his father was there for me. I always went camping with Clayton and his dad, and he took me fishing each time they went out. He tried to step into my father's shoes as much as it was humanly possible, and I would never forget that. Clayton and I had become more like brothers. This guy was the best friend I'd ever had. Our plan since I could remember would be working side by side, when we grew up, just like Indiana Jones.
“Man, I saw who you got paired up with,” he said and bit back his laughter. “Dude, I'm sorry.”
“What do you mean?” I questioned. My curiosity had been piqued by his statement.
“You know, who she is and all,” he said with a laugh.
“No, actually, I don't know.”
I was clueless. How did Clayton already know who this girl was? Today was the first day back to classes, and he already had the info on her.
“Eliza, the chick Haddish paired you with…” He looked at me pointedly, and I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed in boredom.
“Yes, and who exactly is she, Clayton?”
“Dude, she's piss poor. I heard her family lives in the worst part of Luton.”
“What specifically makes one ‘poor’, Clayton? Life isn’t all about the fanciest houses and money.” I couldn’t understand how Clayton knew so much about her, let alone found humor in her unfortunate circumstances.
Royally Loved: The Royal Romances Books 1-5 Page 18