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Ugh. The phone is ringing and it won’t stop.
I bunch up a pillow and put it over my head, but the damn thing kept right on ringing. I’d had too much wine and sex last night. An amazing combination, if you ask me. But I had a headache, and my body still throbbed from Ben’s rough lovemaking. Not to mention the jet lag. I just wanna spend the day in bed, sleeping and recovering.
But the phone had other plans.
I glance over but didn’t see Ben sleeping next to me. Has he taken off? I check the nightstand, but I don’t see a note. Hmm. Where did he go? Well, I’ll worry about that later. Right now, I had to stop the ringing.
“Hello?” I said, clutching the fancy metal phone. It looked old-timey, all glossy and silver, like it had been made in the 20s or something.
“Is this Isabelle?” The voice had a British inflection, crisp and clear, like an autumn morning. It was vaguely familiar, but I’m not firing on all cylinder.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“Ben’s grandmother, dear. We met yesterday.”
“Right. Of course, I remember.” I brush the hair back from my face and sit up in bed, suddenly on high alert. “Are you looking for Ben? Because he isn’t here.”
“Actually, I wanted to speak to you.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. What if she knows what we’ve been up to?
But the queen continues on, her tone light and airy. “My staff is taking me to the dress shop this morning and I thought you probably need an outfit for the party.”
Uh oh. I’m not ready for another encounter with her, especially without Ben around. What if she figures it out? I already had a serious case of the guilties for deceiving her and I didn’t want to add to it.
“Oh, um, actually Ben got me a few dresses, so I think I’m probably good, but thank you so much for the kind offer. I really appreciate it.”
“Nonsense.” Evidently, the Dowager Queen was having none of it. Ben had given me a snapshot of the royal ranks last night. None of it made much sense to me. Apparently, his grandmother is no longer the reigning queen, so she has a new title. “My grandson has no sense of style. You’re staying at the hotel, right?”
“Yes, how did you-”
“The staff talks, dear. Although, I don’t know why my grandson is staying there. I have plenty of rooms in my household, all he had to do was ask. And the palace isn’t that far away. Why aren’t the two of you staying there with the family?”
I gulp. “You’ll have to ask Ben that.”
“I suppose he has his reasons. She lets out a little sigh. “Regardless, my driver will pick you up in twenty minutes. I trust that will be sufficient time for you to get ready. Don’t be late.”
I didn’t have the chance to argue, because she hung up on me. I grab my cell phone, to call Ben and then stop. I didn’t have the time to talk this over with him. She’d be here any second.
So I crawl out of bed and glimpsed myself in the mirror. Yikes.
I hadn’t taken off my makeup last night and I had a set of raccoon eyes, and lipstick smudged all of my face, like I was a little kid who’d gotten into the strawberry jam. My hair is a mess of ratty tangles, like a rat’s nest perched on my head.
“Lovely.”
I lunge out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth, put on some deodorant, took a couple of aspirin, and pull on a dress. I want to wear jeans, but somehow I doubt the queen would appreciate my casual clothing. Then I apply some makeup and spritz some cologne. I glance in the mirror. Well, I don’t exactly look great, but I don’t look I’ve got hangover after doing a walk of shame anymore. It will have to do, because there’s another phone call. This time it is the front desk, informing me a security guard is coming up to the room to escort me to the limo.
Showtime.
Her limo is white and the guard opens the door, and I slip inside.
“Good morning, Isabelle.”
“Morning.”
“Don’t you look lovely.” She smiles. So, what did you two do last night?”
“Um, we had some wine, talked, Your Majesty.” And then we had wild monkey sex all night. I could feel my face getting redder by the minute. I felt awkward about calling her Gran since I know her title now.
“That’s nice, dear, and there’s no reason for formality. I want you to call me Gran.”
“Yes, Gran.”
We take off down the road and it’s just the two of us in an enclosed space. I swallow the lump in my throat. Without Ben here, I feel even more anxious than last night.
“Where’s my grandson?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. When I woke up, he was gone.”
She tsked. “He’s going to have to stop doing that. You are a couple and he has to start thinking in terms of we, not me.” Gran pats my arm affectionately. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll train him soon enough.”
Train him? Like a puppy who won’t use the paper? Somehow, I don’t think so, but I don’t argue with her.
“So, I’ve been thinking about your wedding. We’ll have to start making plans.”
I fold my hands in my lap. “Ben and I talked about having a long engagement.” What if she starts making arrangements?
“Which I support, but these things take time. There’s so much to plan out. For example, what chapel would you like?”
“Chapel?”
“We have two chapels at our royal estates, but you might want one in the community instead.”
Oh my God. I haven’t even had coffee yet. Lying takes a lot of energy and effort, because you have to keep up with all of the details.
“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it,” I said finally. It was a non-committal answer.
She narrows her eyes at me and I quickly flash her a smile. A girl talking about her wedding should be excited, enthusiastic. I have to say something, because she’s beginning to suspect something is off.
“Actually, I’m a little overwhelmed by the whole process. I’m in a strange place, and we just got engaged. There’s so much to consider.”
Instantly, her features soften. “I understand, dear. Don’t worry, there’s an event staff at the palace and they can help you with all the details, like the cakes and the flowers. You don’t have to do this all on your own.”
“Phew. That’s a relief.” The limo turns onto another street and the view is charming and old-fashioned, little storefronts, and a brick road.
“Not to mention, you’ll have to decide on a royal coat of arms for yourself.”
“Right.” A coat of arms? That sounds medieval. My head is spinning. This is way too much.
“And have you talked about where you’d like to go on your honeymoon?”
“No, we haven’t.”
“Well, I recommend the south of France. My husband and I had a fantastic time in the Loire Valley. Of course, that was ages ago, but I suspect it’s still a romantic spot.”
Actually, that sounds magical. I’ve never gone to France. I imagine staying up late, drinking wine, making love, and waking up with Ben. But it isn’t going to happen, because none of this real, and I need to keep it together. It would be so easy to get lost in this lie.
“I don't mean to pry, but I'm curious. What was your husband like?”
She grins. “Actually, James is a lot like my grandson. He reminds me of my husband all the time. Both of them are charming, witty, and handsome.”
No wonder the queen had fallen for James. Ben had captured my attention right away. I didn’t stand a chance.
“My son, Ben’s father, is a lot more serious, like me. James had a way of enjoying the moment, a sense of whimsy, that I lack. It’s what I miss about him most, the delight he took in everyday things.” Gran wraps her arms around herself. “But James didn't have to run the country either. The weight of so much responsibility can take a toll on a person.”
I got the sense that they were opposites. She had been the serious, dutiful monarch, while her husband had been more free-spirited. I bet they balanced each other out. And when it came to Ben and I, I'm the more serious person. Of course, we aren't in a relationship, but that's the way our dynamic works. I bet it worked out pretty well.
“I wish I could have met him.”
“Me, too, dear. I have a feeling he would have liked you.”
“I must confess, I'm very keen to see my grandson settled. I've been worried about him. I think you're going to be a good influence in his life. I love both my grandsons equally, but Ben holds a special place in my heart. He is somewhere between a son and a grandson. He spent so much time with me growing up.”
And here comes the guilt again.
I would probably only be here for a couple more days. Ben is going to have a huge mess to clean up. His grandmother is going to be so disappointed.
We parked and a guard opens the door. He helps Gran to her feet and then I hop out after her. When I walk inside, I realize we’re the only two people here.
“Where is everyone?” I ask Gran.
“Oh, this place is by appointment only. They have a very exclusive clientele.”
Wow. And I’m used to shopping at the mall, surrounded by hordes of people. Ben and his family have an entirely different lifestyle than I do. I definitely don't belong here.
When we walk in the door, there is an older man with silver hair, wearing a three-piece suit, waiting for us. There is a tape measure hanging around his neck. I imagine he must be a tailor as well as the proprietor.
“Your Majesty.” He bows to Gran and then looks to me. “Miss...?”
“Please call me Isabelle.”
“It’s Miss Stewart,” Gran says quickly.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Stewart. I’m Randolph Miller.”
“Would you like some champagne?” Randolph asks.
“Yes, please,” Gran says, before I could decline.
Gran leans over to whisper in my ear, “You mustn’t be too informal with the public, my dear.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just not used to being so....” I was about to say uptight but thought better of it.
“Don’t worry. We’ll teach you all about etiquette.”
Fantastic. Royal etiquette lessons.
Randolph returned a few moments later with two flutes of champagne on a silver platter.
“Do you have any coffee?” It was a little early to have a drink.
“I’m sorry, no. I can send someone out, if you like,” he offers immediately. I'm not used to having people at my beck and call.
“No, don’t go to any trouble for me. The champagne looks amazing.”
“Please, have a look around.” Randolph extends his arms wide and we peruse the racks, while the security guards watch us like creepy statues.
“There aren't a lot of dresses here,” I whisper to Gran.
“Of course not, dear, these are simply patterns. The dress will be made exclusively for you.”
I've never had a garment made especially for me. Of course, I had bought a bridesmaid's dress off the rack and had it altered for my friend's wedding, but this is on a whole other level.
When I walk by one of the racks, I glance at the price tag and nearly choke. I’ve never seen so many zeroes on a price tag, and I’m not sure what it would be in American dollars, but I’m betting it is a lot. How many rent payments would it be? Four? Prices in New York had been expensive, but this is bordering on outrageous.
“See anything you like, dear?”
“The dresses are beautiful, but they’re a little expensive. I don’t-”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can afford it.” She waves a hand, as if it’s nothing. “Now, go pick out some dresses.”
I do, trying to find the least expensive ones. There’s a large, three-piece floor to ceiling mirror, which shows every angle. Because the dresses are all in size two, they don’t fit. I have to drape them across my body. I’m a size six, so they look tiny pressed up against my frame.
Meanwhile, Gran selects a stately sheath dress. Randolph heads over and answers her questions about the garment. I walk over to see if she needs any help.
“I’d like this one in silver, with black trim.”
“Very good, Your Majesty. I have your measurements on file, so we can have this dress for you in less than a week.”
“Unfortunately, I'm going to need it sooner. I have a special occasion to attend in a couple of days. Can you do a rush order on both my dress and Miss Stewart's?”
Of course, Your Majesty, I can accommodate your timetable. however, there will be an extra fee.”
Oh no. An extra fee, on top of an already astronomical dress price? I feel so guilty, my stomach clenches. However, I can't say anything. I can't believe we're doing this to his grandmother. I feel so guilty.
“What do you think, Isabel?” Gran asks, and Randolph holds up the dress.
“It’s gorgeous.”
The queen beams. “And have you picked out a pattern yet?”
“No, not yet.” I keep dragging my feet.
“Well, Randolph might as well get your measurements while you're over here.” The next thing I knew, he had the tape measure draped around me, writing down my waist size, bust size, and the rest. It was a little invasive, but I didn’t say a way out of it.
As I stand there, staring at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Eventually, this charade would catch up to us. Gran would be hurt in the process. I’m beginning to wish I’d turned Ben down.
Eventually, this whole thing would blow up in our faces. I just knew it.