Page 1 of Naughty Prince
One
Ivy
“You’re kidding me?” My hand goes to my mouth as I try not to squeal over the receiver. I’m at work, hidden in my cubicle and I shouldn’t even be on the phone right now. But I couldn’t resist. The radio station I like to listen to (discreetly while I do my work) was holding a competition for anall-expenses paid tripto some tiny little European country that needs a boost to their tourist trade. I haven’t been on vacation since Spring Break during my final year of college, and I’m dying for an escape from the monotony of my boring office job. Adulting is an activity I definitely wouldn’t recommend to anyone who hasn’t grown up yet. Stay young, kids.
“There’s no kidding here, Ivy. You’re our tenth caller. You won! You and a friend are off to Fürstheim for an all-expenses paid vacation. You’ll get to tour the country, sample their food, and live in luxury for ten whole days!”
“Eeeeee!” The squeal comes out, anyway. Suddenly all eyes in the office are on me.Shit.Even my boss is looking this way. “Thank you.” I drop my voice to an almost whisper as I tuck my long strawberry-blonde hair behind my ear and try to look busy. “I’m so excited.”
“So am I, Ivy. Stay on the line so we can get your details.”
“OK. Thank you again. This means the world.” I open my email and start clicking around while I’m transferred to a woman who congratulates me then asks for my full name, address and email. I’m in the middle of giving them to her when I notice my boss wading her way through the sea of cubicles over to mine.Oh no!I rattle off my details as fast as possible, move my mouse and stare at my computer screen as I try to think up a cover story. When she gets here, I’m saying, “Is that all you need?” into the receiver in the most professional tone possible.
Miranda folds her arms over the top of my cubicle wall and looks at me with a tight-lipped expression. I look up at her, taking in her long red nails on delicate fingers, shiny red lips and perfectly styled hair. She’s blonde, and she’s beautiful,andshe’s effortlessly thin, so I kind of hate her just for that. But she’s also a really hard taskmaster, and I swear she’s got it in for me.
“Ivy,” she says in a tone that tells me she’s about to reprimand me for using company time for personal calls. So, I do something audacious; I hold up a finger to indicate I’ll just be one moment. Her eyes bug out, and I think steam comes out of her ears. Meanwhile, I’m shitting my pants and trying not to vomit, but the risk is worth it.I’m going to Europe!
“That’s everything,” the woman on the phone says. “Look for an email from us before the end of the day.”
“Thank you so much,” I say. “I will.” I hang up and gulp. My neck feels hot so I’m pretty sure my skin is all blotchy and my cheeks are burning too. Compared to Miranda and her professional good looks, I look like the before photo for a skin clinic where the patient has rosacea and needs laser treatment to fix it.
I look up and offer a brave smile. “Yes, Miranda?”
“I hope that call was business related, Miss Howard,” she says in that drawl of hers that tells me I’m so incredibly tiny compared to her mightiness. Although, I bet that if I sat on her, she wouldn’t feel so mighty. I’m about twice the size of her.
“Of course,” I squeak. “I was on a call with a new client. They’re interested in having us do the marketing for their new, uh—” my eyes dart around, looking for some inspiration, but she’s tapping her fingers impatiently which always gets me nervous “—er, nails,” I blurt, wincing when I realize how dumb that sounds.
Her brows arch. “Nails?”
“I mean, uh, hammers.”Oh fuck.
“Hammers?”
“Ah, yes.” Now I’m sweating. I can feel it beading in my hairline and between my boobs. “They’re a hardware store?” I’m trying to sound confident, but it sounds like I’m asking her a question instead of giving an answer.
“You squealed because a hardware store wants you to do their marketing?”
“Yes. I think all new clients are very exciting. We should celebrate them all; make them feel special, you know?” I’m scrambling here. I am the worst liar on the face of the earth.
She sniffs. “Squealing is unprofessional, Ivy. Find a more low-key way to make them feel special.”
“So, a ‘yay’ instead then?”
I swear I see the corner of her mouth kick up. She might have a sense of humor after all. “Let’s not cheer verbally. A welcome gift is perhaps more fitting.”
“Of course. Should I put some ideas and costs together?”
“On my desk by this afternoon.” She gives one curt nod then backs off to hover over someone else. I sit back in my chair and let out a sigh of relief.
I’ve gotten in trouble for doing non-work-related things on work timea lot. It’s not that I’m not working, because I am. I do more work than most around here, but I’m also incredibly efficient and find myself with time on my hands. And that time needs to be filled somehow… So, I’m kind of skating on thin ice here. One more infraction and my job is toast. But I couldn’t resist the chance of a ‘Romantic European Getaway for Two’. I mean, who could?
And I won.I won!
Not that it will be ‘romantic’ since I don’t have a man in my life, but that’s OK, my bestie will be more than willing accompany me. In fact, she’ll lose her ever-loving mind. She’s as desperate for a break away as I am.
I want to throw my hands in the air and twirl on my chair so bad right now.
Pulling at my lip with my teeth, I peek over the top of my cubicle to see where Miranda is stalking. When I see she’s occupied, I grab my cell and slip it in the pocket of my dress (dresses with pockets are the greatest gift in life, am I right?) before I dash toward the bathrooms to discreetly send an emoji-filled message to my bestie:Pack ur bags! We’re going on vacaaaaatttttiiiooooonnnnn!!!!!!
