Page 24 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
“Wait!” I bellowed. “I need to get on that flight.”
The tall, lanky flight attendant looked back at me. Seeing my franticness, he ushered his co-worker ahead and waited.
“Hey,” I said, sprinting the last few steps waving my ticket.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Mr. Prince. I’m so happy you made it in time. They had called ahead to say you were on your way, and we waited until the last possible second.”
“I get it,” I grumbled. Even though they had called ahead, I’d been warned I only had minutes to get to my gate.
“Let me scan your ticket and get you on board right away.”
I let out a sigh, “Thanks, man.”
“No problem.” He walked ahead of me down the ramp to the plane. As I boarded, a few passengers clapped while I walked in between the rows and found my seat within the coach section. I gave them all an embarrassed wave before I settled myself in my seat. By the time my flight had been booked by Dad’s secretary, first-class had been full, and I’d had to fly coach. My 6’3” body already protested, and the flight hadn’t even taken off yet.
With a direct flight home from Paris to New York and then another to Rhode Island, I planned to rest and catch up on work. It still amazed me that my father had chosen to build our headquarters there. He said that he’d loved the state’s small-town feeling and had enjoyed his summers in Newport and on the Cape. Most of all, my mother loved it here, and he loved to make her happy.
Typically, I could take our private jet from the state’s small, yet conveniently close airport, but my father had needed it when I’d left, so commercial it was.
I grabbed the portable charger out of my carry-on and plugged my phone into it. Once it powered up, I sent a text to Henri.
Me: Thanks, Asshole. I almost missed my flight because of you.
A quick response came back.
Henri: Don’t you worry, once you see my designs, it’ll be worth it.
Sneaking a glance at the flight attendant heading my way, I quickly typed back.
Me: They fucking clapped for me when I boarded.
My phone pinged with his response.
Henri: As they should. You are the Prince of Prince Industries, after all.
I snorted. He was the only one who could get away with saying that to me.
Me: Dick.
It had been nice to see Henri. He relocated to Paris four months ago because he said it inspired him. I hated to see him leave the States. He’d become my closest, most trusted friend, and I hated that he was so far away.
Henri demanded I pick up the sketches of his newest wedding dress collection since he’d finished them while I was in Paris. True to form, he preferred his designs to be picked up in person, just like in New York. He’d always been paranoid they would be lost in the mail, and he refused to scan them.
I closed my eyes, hoping to get some rest during the flight. I didn’t even want to think about how I was supposed to manage that little quirk of Henri’s now that he was across the pond. That was a problem for another time.
My energy needed to be spent on ways to impress Jules D’Amboise. Over the past few days, I hadn’t convinced him in the slightest of my reformed ways or impressed him with my business savvy. Being in charge of the wedding division was my last hurdle before I took over Prince Industries, and I was doing a stellar job. Now I needed to convince him and the board of that, and that I was more than ready to take over the family business.
It never bothered me that my father made me work my way up the ranks. Not until now. My father saw that, but proving it to him wasn’t enough. My future was being dangled out of my reach because of a bunch of stuffy old men that didn’t know how to live. I’d proven myself to be capable of running this company. How I conducted myself in my personal life should have no bearing on any of it. I just had to convince Jules D’Amboise and the board I was ready.
As I leaned back in my seat to find a semi-comfortable position, I couldn't stop the thoughts of a certain luscious blonde from filling my head.
***
MY PHONE BUZZED ASI handed the taxi driver my luggage and climbed into the back of the cab. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey, dude. You back yet?” The low smooth voice of Noah, one of my best friends from college, filled my ear.
“Flight just got in ten minutes ago. I’m in a cab now.”
