Page 51 of How to Date a Prince

“I guess that could happen if I don’t make the judging deadline. And it’s a lot of pieces. When’s that, again?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” he says grimly. Gisele nods confirmation behind him.

“I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?” I run a hand through my hair. “What’s twenty-four hours? Oh, and if it’s not a bother, would you mind putting a lock on the potting shed door? A precaution, you understand.”

“Of course,” says Colin immediately. “I’ll see to it myself that it’s done straightaway.”

The filming finally stops. The boom mic is lowered. Colin’s trying to catch my eye. “Auggie…”

Unfortunately, I’m cornered, and there’s a debris field between me and the door, to which the crew have descended, putting things in order as much as they can.

“Yes?”

“About yesterday.”

“What about yesterday?” I look at him in challenge, lifting my jaw.

He’s not smiling for once, somber. “I’m sorry if some of the questions were… too close. It’s for the show. It’s not personal.”

“Oh, I understand entirely.” I nod, unwilling to give him anything. The betrayal still stings more than I want to let on.

There’s the scrape of chairs and tables, the sound of someone sweeping the flagstones. If I close my eyes, I can imagine Thomas here with me in the middle of the night—and I can’t go there right now. Because what if he was actually involved? Why was he awake at that hour?

I brush past Colin to help with the cleanup. I gather up the fallen pieces lying in a dusty sunbeam through the old pane glass window, throwing the mess into a couple of large buckets. They land with dull thuds. It’s a real shame.

“Good job, Auggie.” Gisele gives a curt nod at me before she leaves, clipboard under her arm and underlings glued to her side.

I narrow my eyes at her as she walks away.

“Lunch!” someone calls out as we finish up.

And I realize then I’m honestly about out of fucks and giving them. This show wasn’t my idea. And I have nothing to lose. Let them send me home, then. At least I can tell my father I tried, and I can rest easy that I made a valiant effort. Except leaving now means walking away from whatever’s happening with Thomas. Something twists in my chest.

I join the group headed back to the house. Rose falls in beside me. “I’m so sorry about your work. It was lovely. A real shame.”

I smile and shrug. “Well, it’s done now. I’ll come up with something else. Or I’ll try, anyway.”

I queue up for sandwiches, our group from the potting shed the last in for lunch. Turning around with a tray, I see Thomas, sitting between Travis and Wilson. For fuck’s sake. I do my best not to gawp, stung.

Well, then. I draw in a breath.

I look at my usual table, off alone in the corner near where the crew table is. I start to head there, and then I pause and change trajectory. Instead, I make a beeline for the round table where the trio sit and pull up a chair between Travis and Wilson. It’s hard to say which of the three is more surprised to see me.

“Hi.” I set my tray down. I sit with authority trained into years of programming as a future monarch. “Mind if I join?” I don’t wait for an answer. “Great. What are we talking about?”

Wilson and Travis exchange looks. “We heard you had a spot of bother this morning,” says Travis easily. “Real shame.”

“Yes.” I nod. “A real waste. Some untalented, jealous wanker decided to do damage. At least I can start again. But they’ll still lack talent.”

Thomas is trying to hide a smile behind his hand. Wilson’s thick eyebrows push together. Travis seems keenly interested.

“Oh well,” I say breezily, “I’ll get to work again after lunch. Take two.” I tear into my pair of sandwiches with gusto.

“I hope they catch who did it,” says Thomas. “It’s not very sporting, is it?”

“Poor form to literally trash the competition,” Travis agrees. “Well, let us know if you need any help,” he offers generously.

I’m surprised by his offer. “That’s very kind.”

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