Page 4 of Tabloid Princess

“It’s a list Matty and I have. We’ve each put down five names that the other one would have to accept us shagging.”

I mused on this, while I waited for the timer symbol on my screen to turn more times than the earth spins in front of the sun in one year to bring up my login box.

Leaning back on my chair, I stared at Paula. “I’m thinking Matty didn’t think you’d actually meet Prince Oliver though? Who’s he got on his list?”

“Sandra Bollocks. Anne Hathaway, and that one who’s an Avenger.”

“Scarlett Johansson?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

I paused for a moment. “Matty’s not really got a chance of meeting any of those has he?”

That dangerous grin, part psycho, part sex addict—I mean they do have four kids—reappeared. “That was his call.” She spun back in her chair, clapping her hands together. “And I’m going to give this my best shot.”

“Paula! You can’t. Poor Matty, I’d never be able to talk to him again at a Christmas party.”

Just as she stood and shook her booty for all it was worth, Janine’s door opened. Her expression said it all. Why her accusatory glare slid to me I didn’t know. I wasn’t grinding my almost arthritic hips in the middle of the office. “Leia, are you ready?”

“Uh, sure.” My legs stuck to the chair unwilling to move. Somehow, I forced myself into action and walked stiff legged towards her.

“What exactly does he want to talk to me about?” My heart hammered like a marching band, an uneasy flutter fanning in the space under my ribs.

“He wants to talk marketing exposure and how to generate more interest in the charity.”

Despite the wracking nerves determined to make me land face first on the floor, I paused. “Why? Why now?”

Janine, her usual pale skin still tinged with her I-just-met-the-heir-to-the-throne blush shrugged. “He hasn’t said.”

“Well, didn’t you ask? I mean,” I shifted towards her and lowered my voice, “this is a bit weird isn’t it?”

“Let’s be grateful for small mercies, shall we?”

I thought of the man in the room next door, his face as beautiful as an avenging angel. “Sure. I guess. Come on then.”

“Oh.” She pointed towards her door. “You go in. I’m going to go and organise lunch for everyone.”

My eyes flew open, so wide they stung. “What? You can’t let me go in there by myself.”

Janine couldn’t hold in her laugh. “Just try not to fuck it up, Leia.”

“No. Really. Please come in with me.”

She shook her head and almost pushed me into the door. “Leia, if anyone can show him what this charity is about, it’s you.”

My stomach plummeted to around my feet. “I’m not telling him anything about me. Not a chance in hell. I’m not having some one-percenter feeling sorry for me.” My cheeks burned but it was less with embarrassment and more to do with untamed wild fury.

Janine paused and for one brief flash of a moment I saw that same concern and care she met me with seven years ago. “No one is asking you to, but at the same time no one can tell our story so well.” She squeezed my arm with the motherly affection she’d always reserved for me, despite the fact I frequently broke things in her office.

“Okay,” my agreement came out as a squeak.

“You can do it.” She turned, her attention slipping to her black handbag which she checked for her purse. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, nodding between me and the door.

I didn’t have anything to say, so I blew a gust of air out of my lips and then dragged in a deep lungful of courage.

What I was waiting for was this dream to end and for me to wake up because I was almost entirely sure this wasn’t the way Mondays were supposed to go.

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