Page 4 of Guarding the Princess
Which has nothing to do with why I like her. And it’s not the accent either, though it is a nicer melody than any of my previous clients’ music when she talks. I like her because she’s the underdog. I’ve always had a soft spot for the underdog trying to do things their own way, considering I’d always been one myself.
According to what I’d read on the internet and gleaned from my directions from the royal staff who hired me, Charlotte had left the palace not long after she was eighteen to come to America by herself. She worked a minimum wage job and told no one her true identity. That took tenacity, and I admit, I’m intrigued.
A blond-haired guy interrupts my grumbling thoughts by tapping Charlotte on the shoulder at the front of the coffee shop where she’s dropping off breakfast to a table of tourists. He’s entirely too close to her, especially while approaching her from behind. My eyes are laser focused on the situation, muscles ready to spring into action if need be. I hold myself back only because I’m supposed to be undercover, even from Charlotte herself.
Charlotte spins around, her face breaking into the biggest smile I’ve seen out of her yet. The sight of it stirs something in my chest. Probably heartburn from all the coffee and no food yet this morning. Medical issues aside, at least the mystery man isn’t here for nefarious purposes which would require me to break my undercover operation.
“Asher!” Charlotte squeals while pulling him into a monster of a hug.
The guy hugs her back too, probably a little longer than I’d deem appropriate considering she just broke up with her boyfriend of six months only last night. Isn’t there a standard waiting period or something?
Charlotte untangles herself from the hug and grabs the guy’s hand. As she pulls him to an empty table, she hollers over to the other barista, “I’m taking my break!” The woman gives her a thumbs-up and continues to pump out the drinks.
Charlotte’s too far away for me to hear what she’s saying. The guy doesn’t seem to pose a threat. Maybe six foot two. Blond hair, blue eyes, rugged build. Looks like he works out, but even if I didn’t have a black belt in two martial arts, I could still take him. No real reason for me to need to be closer and listen in on their conversation.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me I need breakfast. I jump out of my chair, taking my coffee with me and heading to the counter. The woman making a jug of steamed milk raises a finger at me and I wait patiently. I’m close enough to hear the guy now, though the noise coming from the barista drowns out half of what he says.
“…didn’t know what he had. Better to let him go now…actor friend who’s a super great guy…my job to get you out there again…Rhys is threatening to fly out here.”
Charlotte drops her head and I want to punch the guy for making her think about last night. He has to be talking about her breakup with Zeke and then trying to set her up with someone else. What is wrong with these SoCal’ers? They clearly have no idea about the grieving period before venturing out into the dating world again.
“What can I get ya?”
I jump, stumbling to get myself together realizing the somewhat haggard-looking barista is standing directly across the counter, staring at me like I’m an idiot. Her laugh lines are nonexistent, only frown lines bracketing her stern face.
“Um, a blueberry muffin, please.” My stomach growls again, personally affronted I believe a single solitary muffin will suffice. “Make that three, please.”
Charlotte says something back to Mr. Love ’em and Leave ’em. I can’t hear her though over this order I’m stumbling through.
“Heated up?”
“What’s that?”
Her eyes widen a fraction and glaze over like she’s counting to ten in her head.
“Do you want your three muffins heated up?” She asks the question slow and loud, drawing attention from some patrons sitting nearby. I don’t hazard a glance at Charlotte to see where her attention lies.
“Yes, please.”Please don’t spit on my muffins.
I throw down a twenty-dollar bill and have a seat at a closer table, hoping my generous tip will let my muffins come out harm free. Double bonus is being close enough to eavesdrop on Charlotte and her mystery man.
“…doesn’t need to come out here. In fact, it’s better she doesn’t. I mean, I’m disappointed we broke up, but it’s for the best anyway. You can tell Rhys I’m perfectly fine. Maybe in a month or two I’ll hit you up for that friend of yours. For now I’m just going to hang loose and enjoy Christmas at the beach.”
“You going to see any family over the holidays?”
“Nah, I’ll probably see them next year. So, you got a special girl you need to tell me about?”
“Three blueberry muffins!” The woman yells out my order like she thinks I’m several blocks away. I’m sitting one table away from the counter, for goodness’ sake. I hop up and grab the large plate before she changes her mind about messing with my muffins.
By the time I grab napkins and sit back down, Charlotte’s hugging the blond guy and he’s taking off.
Interesting. She lied to him about last night. Said it was no big deal when I know she asked the guy to marry her and he turned her down in stunning fashion. Why would she lie to this guy who she’s obviously friends with and who knows her best friend, Rhys? And not going home to see her family over Christmas? I know for a fact that’s a lie.
Because I’ve been hired to bring her back to Regora just in time for the holiday.
I’m a thorough guy, always sniffing out falsehoods and details that don’t match up. Before I took on this job, I contacted the old bodyguard who’d been with her the entire time she’d been in LA. He wouldn’t say much, but he did confess to why he quit. He liked Charlotte. Said she reminded him of his own daughter. And for that reason, when he got the order to prepare to bring her back to Regora, he’d refused and quit on the spot.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I put down my warm muffin without taking my first bite. I fish the phone out and see a text message from Nora, the Queen’s assistant, the one who’d done all the interviewing and contracts required before I’d been hired to take over as Charlotte’s invisible bodyguard.
