His Royal Highness(20)

She’s doesn’t notice me right away, not until her line manager spots me and blinks three times in quick succession. Her recognition is unexpected. I’ve been away from the US park for a long time.

“Oh. Hi. Sir, hi.” Her manager repeats the greeting twice, and I’m worried a third will follow before she nods in reverence. “I didn’t know you were here observing the meet-and-greet.”

I smile to ease her worry. “Unofficially.”

When I speak, Whitney’s spine stiffens before she slowly turns and glances at me over her shoulder. Her jade eyes narrow on first impulse before she catches herself and smooths her features.

“Whitney, I was hoping to speak with you for a moment if that’s all right.”

She frowns at the idea, and I realize I could have found a more appropriate time to reunite with her. She’s just ended an exhausting shift. She’s probably dead on her feet.

“I won’t keep you long,” I assure her.

“Yes, of course. No problem,” her line manager answers for her, ushering the last few employees out of the room—everyone except her co-star, the cheek-kisser. He hovers annoyingly close until I smile in his direction. My mouth says I’m a polite guy. My eyes say, Get the fuck out.

“Want me to wait for you?” he asks Whitney.

“I should be fine, Ryan. Thanks.”

Ryan aims a careful glare in my direction—a warning, if I’m not mistaken.

I ignore him and step closer, extending my hand to Whitney. It seems appropriate given the circumstances, but she stares down at it like I’m offering her a piranha. I realize my misstep. Just because her line manager recognized me doesn’t mean she will.

“Ah, right—you might not remember me. I’m Derek, Cal’s grandson.” I tip my head. “I mentored you for a few months, years ago, back when you were a participant in our college internship program.”

“I remember you,” she says, making no move to accept my handshake.

This is going…oddly.

I withdraw my hand and stuff it in my front pocket, untroubled.

“Right. Well, it’s good to see you again. I watched the last half of your shift and this role fits you to a T. I doubt there’s anyone on earth more suited for the position of Princess Elena than you.”

The smile she aims at me is tight. Then she glances pointedly over her shoulder. “Mr. Knightley, it’s nice to see you again, but it’s been a long shift and…”

Wait, wait, wait—this makes absolutely no sense. The Whitney I remember was so eager for my time she would have followed me home had I let her. This new version seems to want nothing to do with me.

I don’t like it, but I convince myself she’s just tired. When I speak again, my tone is cool and professional. I get right to the point. “Right. Well, I’m sure by now Cal has informed you of his plan.”

Her brows furrow, her eyes finally locking with mine. Their full impact take me by surprise. “Plan?”

“For me to work here with you for a while.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” She looks horrified. “Don’t you belong in boardrooms? Running the show? Not participating in it.”

“Well, I’ve spent the last few years in London, as you might remember.” I search her face, trying to determine if she really remembers me or if she was lying before. “Let’s just say it’s a good way for me to get reacquainted with the US park.”

“Why here, specifically? You didn’t request it, did you?”

“It was my grandfather’s decision.”

She lifts her chin, a proud little thing. Call me crazy, but I think she would’ve preferred if I had requested it, which makes no sense given her current attitude. The plot thickens.

“What is there for you to do?” she asks, still sounding bothered by the entire idea. “Julie already manages my line and she does a great job. I’m sure you noticed.”

I smirk. “She’ll continue in that position.” Then, having convinced myself there’s definitely heat behind her curt tone, I narrow my eyes, deciding to cut the shit and broach the subject I’m curious about. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you and I leave things on a good note all those years ago? You seem agitated with me for some reason.”

A blush creeps up her chest and neck. It barely reaches her cheeks, which is a pity. I’ve decided I’d like to see her blush there.

She blinks and looks away, finding a spot to focus on just over my shoulder. “Sorry, Mr. Knightley—”

“Derek,” I amend. “We dropped the formalities eight years ago.”

She swallows whatever memory flashes across her green gaze, and when she speaks again, her tone is ice. “You’re right, we did drop them. So, I’ll just be honest. I’m tired after my shift, and seeing you here…well, it’s unexpected to say the least. Why don’t you just tell me what role you’ll be taking and then you can hurry back to that executive office of yours and I can finally have a bathroom break.”

I laugh because I can’t help it. I’ve always loved assertive women, ones with tenacity and a strong backbone.

“I tell you what, why don’t we just wait until Monday and we’ll pick up this conversation again then. I don’t want to keep you from the restroom.”