Page 6 of Prince Charmless
The car falls silent again.
“The Personal Computer method? The Politically Correct method?”
He shortly exhales through his nose. I can’t tell if it’s out of laughter or frustration. Probably the latter.
“Oh God.” I pinch between my eyes when I realize PC stands for Prince Charming. “So that’s what you did when you were a teenager? You know most kids play sports in their spare time, not exploit girls for their goods and services. Although you must’ve played some obscure horse sport they only let rich people play. You shouldn’t have been so confident that would work, you know. What if a person comes in and wants flowers now? Did you think about tha—”
“Melina.”
“Hey, you got my name ri—”
“I get it.”
I hold my tongue, not because he told me to, but out of shock.
He looks down at my hand, lying on the seat between us. “You obviously don’t like me, so can we just call it a truce until the wedding is over?”
How fun. I’ve made the Prince plead for a ceasefire. I’ve known him for how long? Half an hour? Maybe I’m being too cynical in thinking he’s a scammer. Hedidsay he would pay the owner double. This all just feels unsettling. He’s lucky I’m not one to pick fights at a wedding. I’m notthatmessy.
I ball my hand into a fist. He doesn’t deserve to see my lavender acrylic nails topped with silver holographic glitter. “Fine by me,” I mutter, knowing those will be the last words I say to him.
Taylor nods, and the drive is silent the rest of the way back.
3
Melina
I try not to touch her half-up-half-down too much as I clip the veil to the back of Rachel’s head.
“Is it in?” she asks, looking at me through the gilded vanity.
I carefully take my hands off, and she turns around to face her two other bridesmaids in silk lavender dresses. The room fills with compliments. Her strapless lace dress looks gorgeous and expensive. She fits perfectly with the decor of the green bedroom. From the antique chests to the crystal chandelier, everything seems very valuable here. I feel like I can’t touch anything.
“What did Julien do to deserve to put a ring on this?” I ask Rachel in the mirror.
“That reminds me, could you check to see if Taylor still has the bands? I’ve been to multiple weddings where the rings get lost or eaten by a dog or shoved up the nose of a child. It’s always a nightmare.”
I give my bride a loyal nod, even though I’m not in the mood to see Prince Taylor right now. Or ever. But it’s Rachel’s day, and he better have those rings.
“Make sure you actually see the rings in the box with your own eyeballs,” she instructs. “And please don’t think I’m a total bitch.”
I assure Rachel she’s not before leaving.
Connected to our bedroom is a long corridor lined with large French windows. The sunset shines through them to illuminate the paintings hung on the other wall. I’m tempted to explore, but I don’t think I’m allowed. I’ve been sent to do a job, anyways.
I knock on the door across from ours. “Is anyone in there?”
“Just me and Taylor,” Julien’s voice says.
I enter to find a bedroom almost identical to ours but in a red color scheme.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Julien says, straightening his tie in the mirror. “It’s bad luck. And what if we were naked?”
“I’m not the one you’re marrying, and why would you be naked?”
Taylor’s eyes meet mine as soon as I finish my sentence. He’s leaned up against the back window, one hand in his pocket, the other on his phone. He looks pretty good in a three-piece suit. I guess I wouldn’t mind knowing what he looks like naked.
Goddammit.What is wrong with me? He’s too privileged to deserve my dirty thoughts. I bet he already has enough women behind the scenes stroking his...ego. Though, unlike his brother, I’ve never heard about any he’s having. A millennium ago, there were rumors of him being quite the player at university, but nothing as of late.
