Chapter One
“What kind of idiot goes about London without an umbrella?” I scold myself frustrated dashing into a pub.
I shake out my hair and look around. My first pub was just that. A pub.
“Take a seat wherever you like,” the bartender, cracking some gum, tells me.
I shoot her a smile and make my way to a lone corner table. I slid into the seat putting my bag down and slipping out of my jacket.
“What can I get ya love?” a waitress questions, handing me a menu.
“May I please start with some tea? And uh fish and chips,” I say quickly, blushing.
She writes it down and walks away. I pull my novel out of my backpack and settle back.
“Interesting choice there,” a male British voice speaks, breaking into my thoughts.
I look up. A guy is smiling at me with glinting eyes. His hair is red and his freckles adorable, plus he looks so familiar.
“Oh, hi,” I answer.
He motions to the two mugs of frothy beer he’s holding and gives me “the look” guys gave girls they hope to bed.
I sigh looking down at my book. I just want to dry off and get a good meal. Why were British guys like American guys? Horny.
“I don’t drink…. And I don’t do gingers,” I reply turning the page.
He bursts out laughing and takes a seat across from me. His long legs tangle around mine as he tries to adjust himself to where he has more room. Finally he just spreads his legs with mine in between. I pray I don’t blush at the intimacy.
“Honey, you are missing out. Gingers, as you say, are the best,” he smirks.
I glance at him annoyed. Just who does he think he is? The waitress heads my way and stops dead. She pales and does a quick about face and nearly sprints into the kitchen. I frown confused and looked at him.
“I take it you aren’t well liked?” I question him.
He blushes.
“Er… that wasn’t why she left,”
I sigh.
“So what’s your name??” he asks after a pregnant pause.
“Alexandra Jayne McKenzie, AJ to my friends,”
He looks at me carefully.
“AJ huh,”
“To friends…”
He stares deeply into my eyes.
“Do you know who I am?” he questions, searching me like he is looking for the answer to life.
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“No… should I?”
He grins leaning forward against the table.
“I am,” he starts but is interrupted by the frantic waitress.
“Prince Harry, your majesty. Such an honor to have you join us,” she breathes as several other people on the wait staff bring a ton of food forward.
I meet his eyes; his face pulls into a guilty expression. Everyone is putting food down around us, several of them shooting me curious looks. When everything is settled, they flee back to the kitchen leaving me alone… with Prince Harry. I take a sip of tea. This is awkward. I’d insulted royalty. Couldn’t I get arrested for that?
“So, um…. help your self to anything you’d like, if you want to try more than the fish and chips,” he offers sheepishly.
“Thanks,” I answer and reach for the vinegar.
He is looking at me, I can tell but I refuse to look up. I have never been in a situation like this nor have I imagined it either.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks breaking into my thoughts.
“I don’t even know you,” I reply calmly.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away who I am. I guess I am just used to people already knowing,” he explains.
I bit into a tangy chip and let out a little moan. They were SO much better than the imitation American ones.
“So, what brings you to London?” he tries again to talk to me.
I swallow and finally look up at him with a sigh.
“To meet and marry Prince Harry,” I answer dryly.
He looks shocked but then laughs.
“You are quite cheeky aren’t you?”
I smile a bit and bite into my fish. He begins to eat his meal; we are silent for a while until I decide to answer him.
“I arrived a couple of days ago. I have always loved London and wanted to visit so I decided to move here for 3 months.”
“Just like that? On your own?” he questions looking impressed.
I nod.
“Yeah, I rented a flat and was job hunting today when I got caught in the rain. I forgot to bring an umbrella with me,”
“You know… I might have a job if you are interested,”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Sorry, not looking to be your private hooker,”
He shakes his head looking a bit annoyed.
“I need a secretary, my last one left a couple of weeks ago because she just had a child. Think you would be interested?”
I study him carefully. His face expression seems earnest. Could I really trust the playboy prince? Then again, I wasn’t his type. I am not a tall, drop dead beautiful, blond model with perfect skin and a show-stopping smile. I am on the short side at 5”2 and I have black hair and blue eyes. I wouldn’t exactly say that I am pretty but I am not a troll either. I figure however that due to my looks, I’d be safe from real advances from the prince.
“Here you go,” I say pulling out a folder and handing it to Harry.
“What is this?” he questions opening it.
“My resume,” I say a bit shy.
He looks over it and raises his eyebrows.
“Pretty impressive. You are hired,” he says shutting it.
“Don’t you have to get approval?”
“From whom? You will be working for me, I decide who I want. I want you,” he says staring deep into my eyes.
“What do we start with?”
“How about you come to the palace and see your new office?”
I wipe my mouth and set the napkin down.
“That sounds fine,”
He slides out as I pull out money for our bill.
“Oh honestly. Knock that off will you?” he says grumpily.
I wave him off and go pay for the bill as he runs after me protesting.
“I’ve never had a woman pay for my food before,” he grumbles.
“Your welcome.”
We head out, his hand on the lower part of my back as he escorts me into a smart, black car. We sit together in the back seat; he pulls out his I-pad and types a few things in it before leaning closer to me.
“This is my up coming schedule. Tomorrow we have a charity polo match in the later morning and after we will take tea with my grandmum so she can get to know you,”
I bite my lip nervous. I sure hope that I was up for this. I had no time to voice my concerns as we pulled up to the palace. I looked at him unsure and grabbed his arm as he makes a move to get out of the car.
“Wait!” I exclaim.
I lick my finger and gently clean away some mustard from the corner of his mouth then I run my fingers through his wind blown hair moving it into place.
“There you go ginger,” I say my eyes moving over him making sure nothing else is out of place.
He gives me a particular look and hesitates before slipping out. He seems almost baffled. I slip out behind him and take a deep breath. We head in.
Story Notes:
A fan fiction cross over of Prince Harry of Wales and Cristiano Ronaldo.
