Page 13 of The Prince

“And we will be in touch about a plan moving forward to help with the park?”

“Sure, any appearances you need, just let me know. I’ll even smile and wave on video from Italy. Just tell me when the face needs to make an appearance.”

Something about her voice bothered him. A sharpness he’d never heard before, and he eyed her curiously. “You sure you’re OK?”

She held her door open. “What does it matter? You don’t need a happy face. The Italians don’t need a happy dress hanger. You all just want the face, the body, the beauty. Well I have plenty of that. The rest of me I’ll keep to myself if you don’t mind.” Her voice, so cold, her eyes, flat and lifeless. Daniel was at a complete loss. “What happened? I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t. Don’t worry about it. I’ll text you from Italy and we can make our plans.”

He nodded, not daring to do anything more than step out the door and say, “Goodbye then.”

Her soft voice answered just as the door was closing. “Goodbye.”

Chapter 8

While in Italy, the more she thought about her whole experience with Daniel the angrier she became. What were they thinking only using her face? A quiet voice spoke her worst fear. Perhaps that was all she had to offer.

She tried to stifle it but memories came rushing back anyway. Her foster father’s poker parties. The men, the cigars, her tray of drinks. Her dad’s voice, “Smile pretty for my friends Melodia. You have a pretty face. It will take you places. If you’re super sweet, they may even give you money tonight.”

Craving attention, craving love and a permanent place to stay, she had worked hard to please him. She smiled and winked and flirted in her ten year old way, and the men thought her a doll. They gave her tips for bringing them drinks. A quarter here, a dollar there, and when they were really drunk, sometimes twenties.

“You did good.” Her father would say. “See what a pretty face can do?”

One time they had been discussing the shelter for dogs and one of the men had said something about it being better just to kill the worthless animals, why spend time and money keeping them at the shelters. When putting his drink in front of him, she had countered, explaining how many of them went out to good families for adoptions. The man turned red in the face and her father had said, “Melodia. Don’t be spouting your worthless opinions. You’re better off with your pretty smiles and keeping that lovely mouth shut tight.”

Her lips trembled again, thinking of it in her current situation. Is that not what she had been hearing her entire life? Every time she voiced her opinion she was shut down. Except at that meeting, when she took a stand and tried to save the park. And she had made a difference. King Nico had asked her to come and she had been given this assignment to help convince the ministers to save the park. But they hadn’t let her do anything but smile and look pretty. Even Daniel had continued doing everything else himself. And she had been asked to do the celebrity sightings. She could almost hear him say, “Smile and look pretty.” Just as she had for her foster father all those years ago.

Familiar hurt tore at her but it swiftly turned to anger. She picked up her phone, dialed Daniel’s phone number and waited. At length he picked up. His cheerful voice did little to assuage her anger. “Melodia! Great to hear from you.”

“I’ve been paying attention to the press and your campaign to convince the ministers isn’t going well.”

He was silent for so long she didn’t know if he was still on the line. At length he said, “How so?”

“Well, you are using all the wrong arguments, the ministers aren’t listening, everything seems disorganized and the groups aren’t united under one leader.”

“I don’t see how it’s my fault they aren’t listening. I’m trying to unite the groups, again, not my fault if they are divisive amongst themselves, and as far as using the wrong arguments, this reasoning seemed to work pretty well at our first meeting.”

“But it’s not working well anymore. And your delivery. I think the people need—”

“I am well aware of what the people need.”

“I’m just trying to point out—”

“If you have any suggestions, I’d be glad to hear them. You know, you haven’t been much help from over in Italy. Perhaps if you shot a video, or sent a photo, or anything would be better than nothing.”

“OK, I’ll post a video tomorrow.”

“Excellent. I’ll send a script.”

“Pardon me?”

“Of what to say. I have all our press release info in a file.”

She didn’t know what to say. He was going to monitor the very words she used when speaking out. She really was just a pretty face to him. “I’ll look for the file. Goodbye Daniel.” She hung up and stared at the phone for two full seconds, trying to understand what he had just said.

She threw a pillow against the wall. She needed to get a handle on things. Once the memories of her foster father had come rushing back, they would plague her until she figured it out again. She pulled out her yoga mat, sat on it, and rested her hands out in front of her. She cleared her mind. Nothing was making sense. The rush of emotion, the surge of attraction for Daniel, the desire to at least mean more to the world, to offer substance to the conversation of humankind, the obvious lack of trust and even respect from Daniel as he refused to see her as anything but a pretty face. Everything competed for attention in her mind and she needed some quiet. After a time, when her thoughts ran singularly, when she had focused on one tiny aspect of the situation at a time, she determined a reasonable next step. She would film the video. And it was acceptable to use a script. Marketing firms provided copy all the time for their clients. Perhaps she was being sensitive about the whole script thing.

Once she decided on the next step, she analyzed Daniel and his reactions to her. She told herself that Daniel appreciated her, trusted her, valued her for more than her beauty, but she could find no evidence, and her anger fizzled into disappointment and then sadness. And then her meditating broke down as a rush of emotion crowded thought. Without realizing, she started planning ways to look her best around him, to smile more, to wear her favorite outfits. She shook her head. She was a mess.

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