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Oops. That was quick.
I shimmy my shoulders, feeling a little bit better about myself, and go back inside the room.
I check my phone, making sure that my flight reservations have been confirmed, and I start to pack up the mess on the floor.
I might not be getting paid for this job, and it might look like a fucking stain on my career—if I still have one after this—but I won’t allow myself to be humiliated again.
I’ll just call him a black mark, something and someone beyond saving.
I just wish it didn’t sting so bad.
Yeah, okay, I admit it. I fucking fell in love with my client. It sounds better when I say I fell in love with the man I used to dream about, Prince—well, now, King—David.
I shouldn’t have, but there are a lot of things that people shouldn’t do every day, and they still do it.
I’ll move and get on with my life, just like every other heartbroken and career-oriented woman out there.
This one might just take some time, given his…stature.
I get ready for bed, untucking the covers and getting myself comfortable. But there’s one more thing I must do.
I open my laptop and begin typing:
Dear Your Majesty King David Arthur Lockridge,
Please consider this my resignation letter. Effective immediately, I will no longer be acting as Your Majesty’s Public Relations Consultant.
The time I spent as an employee of Your Majesty has been valuable. I appreciate your trust in me, and the accommodations provided. However, I will be moving on to pursue other endeavors.
Regretfully yours,
Vivienne Taylor
