Page 10 of Prince Charmless
“Never,” he says. “And I won’t be accepting complaints. Send them to Julien if you have any.”
He has to be lying. That spin move was way too rehearsed. This is fun, though, I think. Dancing is fun, right?
My eyes wander around the room as we sway. Over Taylor’s shoulder, Julien gives me two thumbs up. Actually, a lot of the guests are staring.
“Everyone is looking at us.”
Taylor lets out the tiniest of breaths. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you ever get used to it?” I’m not sure if I could get accustomed to people gawking at me all the time.
He glances to the side. “Yes and no.”
A laugh escapes me. “Are you trained toalwaysgive vague, apolitical answers?”
“No comment,” he says in a deeper voice.
There’s some awkward silence as I think of subjects worthy enough for small talk.
“I liked my joke better than yours, by the way.”
He shakes his head. “Too safe for a bridesmaid’s speech. Though I’m definitely stealing and modifying yours. Maybe I can use it at a charity event for some school children.”
“You’re not going to ask for permission?”
“No.”
Taylor’s black leather shoe prevents me from shifting my stance. My sandal pump fits perfectly next to his sole. Since when did we get so close?
“Your castle is beautiful,” I say. “I can’t believe you live here. It feels like all this furniture could come alive at midnight.”
“Well, I don’t livehere,” he says. “The place is split up into apartments. I don’t think I’ve been to this side of the house in ages.” Apartment cannot be the right word for what he’s talking about.Ilive in an apartment, and it looks nothing like this. “And it’s not a castle,” he adds.
“Manor, I know. Has this been your home your whole life?”
“Basically. I left a bit for university.”
“You went to Dartmouth, right?”
Taylor smirks. Have I unlocked a new facial expression? “You’ve been googling me.”
I tense. “Uh, Julien mentioned it.”
“It’s fine. Most people do.”
He thinks I’m lying. Well, Iamlying, but that’s not the point. Last night, I did a little Wikapediaing, but that’s all. His page was a dull read, anyway. He’s the grandson of the Queen, son of Crown Prince David, and future sovereign of this rainy island. Him going to Dartmouth for economics was the only thing I found remotely interesting. The rest of the article was about his philanthropy and charity work. He’s a saint. I get it.
Taylor’s hand slides toward the middle of my back. “What would I find if I googled you, Melina?”
Although I enjoy his interest (and the way he says my name correctly), I can only give him boring answers. “If you googled me, you would find that I’m a lowly web dev, but you already know that.” He should, at least.
“Yes, your website said you specialize in UX design. I have no idea what that means, but it sounds like you know what you’re doing.”
“So youhavegoogled me.”
He nudges me closer, enough to be noticeable but not enough to think he’s done it on purpose. “You’re going to be working for us. I thought I’d look up your other projects.”
“And?”
