Amara Meadows has always placed her job first, but with her journalism career slowly failing, she seems lost.
Although when she ends up spending a month in the palace covering the coronation of White Bridge's prince, she finds more than herself.
F...
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My mind drifts.
"Amara..." His voice is smooth as honey as he calls me back from my daydreams.
One week has passed since I came to the palace. I have spent days interviewing the prince and the other "staff" and I spent my nights typing away. I'll be honest, I nailed it, even if I do say so myself. Like man, I didn't know I could do that. Ask questions that haven't been asked before and connect with the prince while doing so. Although connecting with him might not have been smart. It sets in the realization that every day that ends brings us closer to saying goodbye and I don't know why that feels so unnerving.
"Amara?" His hand reaches from across the table and gently touches mine. In any normal business scenario, I'd be freaking. I mean it's not exactly the way to address your co-worker. But boy did his touch feel good, so sweet and innocent. As well as familiar, I should be cringing at the number of times it has happened. And yet there it is again, the confusion when we do in fact touch, accidentally or otherwise. I can't compare it to anything I've ever experienced before. It's completely new and so damn strange.
"How do you do that?" He looks unsure as he stares at me, the question was vague, but in my mind I expected it to make sense. It seemed so obvious to me, simple and easy. I hesitantly take my hand away from his. "How do you make my name sound so perfect? It is in the way you say it, it's the soft whisper of emphasis you place in every letter. It's very annoying really."
"Should I stop then, saying your name?" He pushes the papers into the binder and places it on top of my closed laptop. Always keeping busy even when he's speaking to me, even when he uses that poisonously sexy tone. "I could call you something else."
I smile at the sense of mischief in his voice. "Oh yeah, like what ?"
"I think I shall call you, Ma petite fleur." He smiles. "You have to figure out what that means for yourself though. Now, is that really all that bothers you? You seem very distracted today, no smart-mouth comments or rude remarks, and the opportunities have been endless, but you've not made fun of my rich boy life at all." His statement is met with a sigh.
Spending six hours a day with the same person forces you to adjust to their habits, for example I know when Xavier starts getting bored with work and I know that kicking his feet does bring back his interest in whatever question he has yet to answer, but that also leads to him hiding my question sheet at least twice in the same day. If anything, this was definitely a questionable work environment.
"I don't have anything else to ask you. I have asked all the questions no one has ever asked and also a few that Wyatt had listed, so now I am done. What does that mean? Will I still see you every day even if we aren't working or will I start walking in staff quarters with Max until your ceremony? I have no rights to your company of that I'm aware, but I'd still like there to be a possibility of seeing you just as often as now. "
With pleading eyes, I dart my gaze from him to the table, not sure if I should even be asking this of him at all. Although I didn't exactly realize it would bother me at all not to see him until today it would seem. I finished my entire report and deleted every note and recording, I didn't need it anymore after all. Did he feel the same about our little meetings? Would my absence from his schedule even be noticed, or would I just end up like the rest of the journalists, just another passer-by?
After all the utter nonsense I told myself when I walked into that room on the first day I ended up here. I befriended my assignment and now I am standing here begging for moments of innocent conversation.
It isn't just a job anymore or even just a project and I don't know how I got here and I don't know if I should pull the brakes or push the petrol. I mean, I like him, he's friendly and he's is kind and as far as male conversations go, I actually like talking with him. However, what I do know is this; for now, at least I'm good, no one falls in love in a matter of two weeks. This sounds like an absurd thought to be thinking of, but if I noticed anything thus far it is that there aren't many boundaries between Xavier and me. Not many can just as easily become non at all and it might feel poetic, but it could end up quite catastrophic.
"Well Amara, you might be done with your report, but I still plan on seeing a whole lot of you before my family arrives. If that is what's worrying you, please stop?" He squeezes my hand and then reluctantly pulls away. "Better?" His hopeful smile reforms his face.
"Yeah, it's better." I hand him his phone and his watch that I had to hide in my pocket to keep him from getting distracted and he gladly accepts them.
He stands up from the table and straightens his suit, his hands slowly and with precise movements pulling the sleeves of his blazer forward. The same little routine he follows every time he sits. Without another word, he slips out of the room.
I stare at the table in front of me contemplating the results of my current position and also the end game of the whole Xavier questionnaire. Except the messy desk draws me back into the real world, notes and crumpled-up papers are overflowing from the large surface, but only one thing really catches my eye. At the corner of the binder, something seems different, a corner of white paper poking out from the layers of yellow.
Xavier.
With tired hands and cramping fingers I unfold the paper and as expected a handwritten letter waits to be read.
"Amara
I think you need a break from all of this. You may have come here to work, but you might as well have some fun too and it happens to be the perfect timing as well considering we're done with the report.
Meet me in the lost room at midnight, I have a surprise.
As always Marie will come by to assist you while getting ready and I asked Max to prepare some pre-dinner snacks. Now remember, even though the dress looks quite fancy the dinner won't be, I know you're not that comfortable around the 'snobby' do-up.
I look forward to seeing you tonight when we aren't fighting over sentence construction and acceptable font size.
X.L"
With an uncontrollably nervous smile, I put the note down as to pull my laptop closer and open it to find the English meaning of Xavier's new 'nickname'. The text buffers for a while before the translation finally pops up. I can't help but smile at the total cliche creation of it all, seeing as it would normally bother me I don't know why the subtle gesture causes my cheeks to tint into a deeper shade of almost red. Ma petite fleur..
My little Flower.
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First of all, I added the time skip because I didn't want to add all these boring little snippets of conversation where they just barely connected as people.
Sorry.
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So Amara's a little caught up in her head, is Xavier thinking about her too? What's Xavier's surprise? What exactly is the next step for Amara?
