Page 18 of Tabloid Princess

Molly’s hiss was audible throughout the room.

Had they been checking up on me? Had someone dared to look at my qualifications? It took everything I had not to stand up and slam out of the door.

“Okay,” Janine said, her voice far higher and louder than the room needed. “Let’s get going. Freya, I believe your team will be here for a few days talking through press relations and the like?”

Freya smiled and she motioned to her team of hotties. “We will, we will, and we shall arrange a wonderful event to celebrate His Highness’ thirtieth birthday.”

I turned in my seat, bored now. I was lucky to get a candle in a cupcake on my birthday.

Wheeling myself back to my desk, I ignored the squeaking wheels and placed the envelope on the keyboard.

I could not open it.

I could.

But it wasn’t going to happen.

Oh sod it.

I slipped my finger under the edge and wiggled it in, tearing the thick paper.

A folded sheet of A5 came out into my hand. Really, it looked like any other handwritten note. Except this one was on thick vellum, in fountain pen ink, with a cursive and rounded hand.

Dear, Leia.

Without a phone number to contact you on, I wanted to find a way to personally thank you for the time you spent with me yesterday.

In my experience, candour and honesty are rarely found.

I thank you for yours.

Always, your royal servant.

Oliver.

Five

By three in the afternoon I knew one thing for definite. I hated Freya Cole with a deep and dark passion I’d long forgotten it was possible to experience.

The woman was a menace. To me, specifically.

“Leia, how many followers on Twitter do BF’s have?” (BF’s is what she decided Bright Futures should be called so we didn’t have to tire ourselves out by saying a whole three syllables). ‘Oh, is that all?’ Was her response to my answer.

“How many Facebook interactions do you think BF’s have on a daily basis? Oh, really is that all?”

By five past three, I was pretty sure I’d punch her by the end of the day.

“Coffee!” Molly came to the back of my chair and spun it away from my computer.

“I don’t think coffee is allowed.” I glowered in Freya’s direction and then turned back for my screen, where I’d been idly staring at our fifty-three Facebook page likes.

“Well nicotine is, and I’m desperate, so you can come and keep me company.” Molly stared intently, making it clear she wasn’t going to leave the office without me. She was by no means as frazzled and harassed as me. Her and Paula working the accounts were getting it easy. It seemed their single role during the day had been to heave back the coffer lids so that all new influxes of monetary support, which would flow like a golden river in our direction when our new stamp of royal approval was announced, could settle into the right bank account.

Part of me wished Prince Oliver had never walked in yesterday morning. It was an ugly, selfish part of me, but I couldn’t deny it.

“Okay, okay. I’ll come and watch you shave five minutes off your life.”

“You know that isn’t actually proven.” She turned for the door, confident I’d follow her out into the sunshine.