His Royal Highness(12)

“I’ll read the whole thing,” I assured him, knowing I would.

I wanted nothing more than to impress him, to soak up every small piece of information he felt compelled to offer. He nodded and I noticed a glint of respect in his gaze. He admired my work ethic the same way I did his.

The book was for a class assignment. I had to profile an entrepreneur in the hospitality industry, and Derek had been the one to suggest I write about J.W. Marriott, Jr. He’d first been assigned the book by a professor at Princeton.

“How are things going with your new roommate?” he asked after I slid the book onto my lap. Both hands wrapped around it like it was a prized possession.

“Good. She helped me pick out this dress.” I glanced down at it then shot him a crooked smile. “Thank you, by the way.” His brows furrowed in confusion and I hurried to explain, “Heather sent over a gift card to make up for the coffee-stained suit.”

“Ah.” Understanding dawned on his perfectly honed features. “I’m glad.”

Then, for some reason, silence clung to us. He glanced at the dress for only a moment before reaching for his coffee.

I turned red and tried desperately to come up with another subject for conversation. It felt like I was waiting for him to give his opinion of the dress, but that would be inappropriate. He was my mentor. As long as I was professionally dressed, it was irrelevant what I wore.

Oh god, does he think I’m waiting for a compliment? Speak! Say something.

I held up the book. “Thank you for this, by the way. Everyone else in the class is still floundering for who they’ll choose.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if more than one of them profiled him as well.”

“Well, I’ll just have to do it better.”

We jumped into a discussion about my assignment and how I should approach it. There was no mention of what he thought about the dress, which I thought was for the best. I wasn’t sure I’d survive a compliment from Derek.

Over the following weeks, Derek and I communicated often, but the topics always stayed professional. We discussed my internship and coursework at school, how I was doing in my classes, what his role as Head of Entertainment looked like. Once, I shadowed him for an entire day. In the morning, we met outside of the coffee shop, and much to my annoyance, Heather remained by our side all day. He barely noticed I was there, too focused on his work. He met with the Head of Casting and discussed the planned performances for the holiday season, ensuring staff was hired and properly trained. We ran from there to another meeting, this one conducted in an office overlooking Castle Drive. Heather told me to sit quietly in the corner, and I did, watching Derek command the room. I doubt I even remembered to blink. I doubt I could have repeated a single sentence uttered. I was too infatuated. I understood that day why Derek paired his slacks with stylish tennis shoes instead of loafers. Though my new flats were comfortable, we covered the entire area of the park at least three times over, and when I made it back to my dorm that night, my feet were killing me.

I looked forward to our next monthly meeting at the coffee shop like it was something special. I marked the date on my calendar with little red stars. Sleep was out of the question on the night before we met. I lay awake, imagining him sitting at our table, waiting for me, agonizing over how I would greet him. Hi Derek! Heya Derek! Hey there, bud.

I was lucky. Carrie simply tolerated her mentor. She was an executive in the legal department, a mom of five with barely enough time in her day to use the restroom on a regular basis. “Once, she made me go with her and talked to me through the stall!” Carrie lamented.

She only met with Carrie when it was absolutely necessary to fulfill the course requirement. Beyond that, they never spoke. Carrie would see me lying in bed in our dorm room, reading the books Derek had lent me and moan about how much she wished Derek was her mentor too. The idea of having to share him made my stomach ache so hard I’d nearly double over.

I told myself I was only territorial of our time together because I was wringing invaluable knowledge from him, but in truth, it was more pitiful than that. From our very first encounter, my head and my heart were on two different pages when it came to Derek Knightley. Ten years my senior, a full-grown man in a position of power in the company I worked for—logic told me to crush my burgeoning romantic feelings for him. My heart thought logic could go to hell.





My heart caught a break the week before Thanksgiving. On my way to my fourth monthly meeting with Derek, I received a phone call from my parents. We spoke every now and then, but always at night, when they knew I was home from class and work. A call in the middle of the day had me worried. My mind immediately jumped to worst-case scenarios about Avery, but my alarm bells weren’t necessary. She was still fit as a fiddle, but they weren’t going to be able to make it down to Georgia for Thanksgiving.

The news devastated me.

I hadn’t seen them since they left for New York at the end of summer. I’d been using Thanksgiving as a lifeline in my head, though I didn’t realize how profoundly until they yanked it away.

I knew Avery hadn’t landed the role in the off-Broadway play she’d auditioned for months ago, and her agent had her auditioning for any role he could find. He was hopeful she’d land one soon. “He says your sister has the potential to be a real star!” My parents told me it wasn’t a good time to travel. They needed to focus—on Avery. I would have just suggested I fly up to visit them instead, but I couldn’t. The holiday season is a busy time for Fairytale Kingdom with so many children on break from school. Upon accepting my position in the internship program, I’d agreed I would be able to work through the holidays.