Page 25 of Royal Bosshole

I slipped on my running clothes and shoes and got the hell out of there. As soon as my feet started to hit the pavement, I felt better. Growing up a prince came with a hell of a lot of obligations, but I was used to it. I thought of my mother and how kind she’d been to me, never pressuring me even though so much laid on my shoulders. But sometimes, I wished that my father had been able to find the lost princess himself and save the country so that I could live my life as I pleased.

I ran farther than usual, and my mind slowly locked everything into place. There were plans in motion, and I always had my assistant from home looking into where the lost princess’s family had gone. I had a business to run, and I had…Lily.

My jogging slowed, and I turned to see the Charlotte’s Coffee Shop across the street. A little jolt of electricity shot through me. Why had I stopped here? In all my distractions that morning, I’d still stopped there as soon as I thought of Lily. It was too early for it to be open yet, but I saw a flicker of movement in the window, and I moved away out of view for a few seconds to spot Lily.

Her long hair was down, and she was wearing comfortable clothes, a mug of coffee in her hand. Something moved inside me around my heart. I’d never really longed for anything before, I supposed, besides saving my country, but there was something about Lily that drew me to her and made melong. Since our last kiss, I hadn’t been able to sleep or really get any work done.

Maybe you need to talk to her. See her again.

When her head turned toward the street, I darted out of there, not wanting to be found staring. But as I jogged home, I thought about how perhaps I should just ask her out. Get it over with. That might make me stop feeling like an asshole, and I could get back to my life.

Maybe.

* * *

LILY

“Thanks, Jen,” I said as I took the coffee mug she gave me. “You’re a wonder. I know you’ve been working so hard.”

“No. Thankyou,” she replied with a big smile. “The paycheck you gave me was great. I really appreciate it. This place will pick up; I just know it! Like you said, coffeeshops are homey, and if it helps Coffee on the Go, then it’ll help us. But maybe we need to add another secret recipe to our list, if possible.”

She winked at me, and I groaned. “Oh no, one secret recipe is definitely enough to keep me busy. Thanks for keeping watch over my recipe book, keeping it out of the hands of grubby James Perry.”

She picked at a cinnamon roll on a plate in front of her while I took a big sip of glorious coffee. No coffee was as good as our coffee, and it always reminded me of my grandma. It was an hour until we opened, and we were just getting a few things done together, including looking at the books before the doors opened.

"He doesn’t look all that grubby to me, Lil.” She gave me a look, and I blushed before I could help it.

I turned toward the street, and I saw someone run past, quickly.

Frowning, I took a sip of coffee and said, “No, he’s not grubby physically. But deep down in his heart, he’s Mr. Grubs.”

Jen burst out laughing, and some of the crumbs from the cinnamon roll fell on the ground. I smiled too, grateful that I didn’t have to think too much about that kiss the other day. Because when I was alone, it was basically all I thought about. Not my lack of song purchases or the fact that I still needed money. But the kiss. The stupid kiss that I should not have let myself get into, but I couldn’t help it. James was just so…

Delicious?

“Ugh.”

“Why don’t you head out? I’ve got this, and Matt is coming in today too. You can go and relax; you’ve been a busy bee.”

“Have I?” I asked, sitting down in one of the chairs and twisting the coffee mug.

“For sure! You work for your enemy all day, and then you think about us at night and even come in on weekends. Go on! I’ll be busy here brainstorming great ideas to pick up business.”

I took another sip and grinned. “But not secret recipes, remember?”

“Fine, fine,” she said with a chuckle.

Ten minutes later, we were open, but I didn’t want to leave just yet. I was scribbling a few things in my song notebook when Stevie waltzed in.

“Well, hello, hello!” she said in her usual bright tone.

She had her blonde hair up in a ponytail, and she was wearing workout clothes and a windbreaker.

“Oh hey! What are you doing here?” I closed my notebook and gave her a smile.

“I was dying for a pumpkin-spiced latte. Please can we get two, Jen?” Stevie asked, clutching the counter. “I’m dying without one.”

Chuckling, Jen said, “Sure thing.”

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