Unforgettable: Book Three (A Hollywood Love Story #3)(3)
“Allons y!” says one of them, instantly recognizing me.
Fame has its benefits. On my next rapid heartbeat, I’m racing with them barefoot through the airport at lightning speed. My man-pack is flapping beneath my robe. I may have a heart attack. We barge through security and then zoom down a long, crowded corridor to the departure gate. Why does it have to be the last one?
Finally, we get there. Despite what good shape I’m in, I’m breathing heavily.
In French, the other security guard explains the issue to the airline attendant on duty. I listen with baited breath, my pulse pounding.
She shrugs. “Ce n’est pas possible.”
“What do you mean?”
“Monsieur Taylor, the plane has already departed.”
“What!?” My heart crashes to the ground like a plummeting jet. “There’s nothing you can do?” A thick layer of desperation and despair coats my voice.
“I am so sorry. We can send a message to zee flight attendants to keep a special eye on her. Perhaps, you would like us to book you on zee next flight. It departs at noon.”
“Non, merci,” I rasp. I can’t leave—the red carpet screening of the Kurt Kussler season finale is tonight. There’s no way I can let Conquest Broadcasting and all the international broadcasters down.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I watch the plane soar over the Mediterranean. As the plane ascends, my heart descends into a black hole, knowing I may never see my beloved Zoey Hart again.
Zoey
It’s all over the news. All over the Internet. The headline of every major tabloid.
“Prince Brandon Searching for his Princess!”
“MIP: Missing Irresistible Princess: Where is She?”
“There’s Only One Princess for Me!”
“Darkness at the Grand Palais. Prince Mourning Loss of his Dream Princess.”
“‘I will find her!’” —Prince Brandon”
My heart aches so much it hurts to breathe. I cannot stop thinking about the magical time I had with him. Flesh to flesh, burning with desire. His magnificent royal cock inside me, taking me to the edge of the earth. And then the clock struck twelve. And the magic ended. I fled and turned back to the ordinary servant girl I am. He’ll never find me. My evil stepsister Katrina and her equally wicked mother Enid keep me hidden. And now, they won’t even let me leave the house. I’m their prisoner. Their slave.
Alone in my decrepit attic quarters, I cuddle Gucci, Katrina’s adorable pup that she wants nothing to do with. The little white fur ball is my one solace in life. Well, along with one other—the life-size poster of The Prince that hangs by my bed. “Oh, Gooch,” I lament, “Prince Brandon will never find me. According to all the news reports, he can’t remember my name.”
Gucci looks up at me with his big, brown puppy eyes. A tear falls from my watering eyes and dissolves into his soft fur coat. Then, they keep pouring. I’ve shed so many tears since the ball I could fill an ocean. My precious Gucci gets up on his hind legs and laps them away with his warm tongue. I’m thankful for his sweet kisses. But I long for the kiss of another. The prince who’ll never be mine.
“Zoella!” A manic voice cuts into my misery. Katrina. Now, what does she want?
“Get your fat ass down here immediately. The Prince will be here any minute, and I don’t know what to wear!”
My heart almost stops. Prince Brandon is on his way? I leap to my feet and scurry to the standing, cracked mirror in the corner of my room. I stare at myself. My hair is matted and my gaunt, puffy-eyed face is blotchy. My rags hang on my bones. In a word, I look terrible. I hastily smooth my hair and wipe away my tears, but nothing can disguise my pathetic state of being. An impatient Katrina shouts out my name again. With Gucci trailing behind me, I trudge downstairs.
My eyes grow wide. Katrina has all but emptied her walk-in closet. Glittery jewel-colored gowns are strewn everywhere—on couches, chairs, tables, and more. She tosses them about as if they’re confetti.
“Oh, Mommy, I don’t know what to wear. I hate being seen in the same thing twice!”
Nearby Enid surveys Katrina’s choices. “Darling, what about the coral gown you wore to the ball. It was divine. And for sure, The Prince will recognize you in it.”
Katrina scrunches her face. “I had it sent to the dry cleaner. Thanks to some fat whore, I took a tumble on the dance floor.”
For the first time in ages, I inwardly smile at the memory of Prince Brandon shoving her out of the way. She shoots me a scathing look.
“Zoella, I need a new dress immediately! I want you to go to Barneys right this very minute!”
“B-but…” Oh no! If I go, I’ll lose my chance to see The Prince. That’s all I want…the chance to see His Gorgeousness once again. I desperately search for an excuse. “But the store doesn’t open for another two hours.”
“That’s exactly the point. I want you to beat rush hour traffic and be there when the doors open. I’ll arrange for my personal shopper to meet you. And besides, I don’t want you around when The Prince arrives.” She casts her venomous eyes down at Gucci. “Oh, and you can take that mangy mutt with you. The last thing I want is for him to bite Brandon.”
Gucci growls at her. My heart sinks. Scooping up the little dog, I make a beeline for the front door. The roar of a motor and blasting horns stop me dead in my tracks. Spooked, Gucci jumps out of my arms and scoots away. A loud knock on the door follows.