Chapter Three

 

The doorman offered a pleasant welcome as Amelia entered the lobby of Oscar’s hotel. She forced herself to be steady. She shouldn’t be so jittery over an interview. Clutching her hands, she glanced around the open space, searching for Oscar. He’d be hard to miss, even in a room full of people.

The hotel had been a warehouse in a past life. Like most remodels in the area, Milwaukee’s historic preservation committee had overseen the work to retain much of its industrial charm. Cream city brick covered the walls, while early twentieth century reproduction lighting hung from the two-story ceiling.

She found Oscar leaning against a column, reading a newspaper. For a few seconds, she observed him, noting the creases of concentration on his face, his tall frame, and well-fitting clothing. He looked rich, acted rich, so why had he come to Milwaukee looking for work? A question she’d need answering before she offered him a job.

She approached, and her heels clicked on the marble floor.

He lifted his head and smiled. “I’m learning about Milwaukee.” Oscar folded the paper and placed it on a glass topped side table. “Did you know your baseball team has the best record in the league so far this season?”

“I don’t follow sports.” She didn’t indulge in nonproductive activities, like spending hours upon hours watching TV or attend a ballgame. “Do you have baseball in your country?” Amelia still hadn’t placed his accent and normally, she was very good at connecting dialect and country.

Walking beside her through the lobby, he shook his head. “Football, or soccer as it’s called in America, is my first and only love.”

Lucky football. She suppressed a smile. He likely had a girlfriend back home. Who had he left behind to travel here? And who might give him incentive to abruptly return? Amelia waited for Oscar to open the door before she stepped outside. “Do you play soccer…I mean football?”

He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his black dress pants. “I enjoy kicking a ball around every once in a while.”

She’d consider making an exception and watch a soccer game if Oscar was playing. Wonder how he looked in shorts? Heaven help her if she did hire him. Business, Amelia, keep your mind on business. “We can walk to the Public Market and grab a coffee, if that’s okay with you. Might be more comfortable than back at my office.”

“A coffee sounds wonderful.” He moved aside as a pair of joggers huffed past, bringing him closer.

She flicked a gaze at his face and noticed rings of hazel around his irises, deepening into a dark brown. His olive-toned skin was dusted with light brown freckles, covering the bridge of his nose and his high cheekbones.

She walked with him for the five blocks to the Public Market building, chatting about simple subjects, like the weather and fun things to do in the city. When they entered the market, Amelia went straight to her favorite coffee vendor. She ordered a plain coffee with a dash of cream.

After studying the drink menu, Oscar ordered the same then pulled out his wallet.

She held out her hand to stop him. Physically, he gave the impression he was loaded but for all she knew, he had a few nice articles of clothing but little money. “This was my idea so my treat.”

“Where I come from, a gentleman pays the bill.” He withdrew a crisp fifty-dollar-bill.

Guess he wasn’t hard up for cash. “Where I come from, the tab is paid by the person who initiated the business meeting. Which in this case, is me.” Amelia reached for her purse, which usually hung at her side, then froze. Shoot! In her eagerness, she’d left her purse hanging on the hook in her office. No purse meant no money.

Wearing a crooked grin, he replaced the bill inside his wallet. “Sorry if I offended. I appreciate the gesture.”

The barista glanced at Oscar and then Amelia. “Your total is eight-fifty.”

She swallowed down her dignity. “Appears I mistakenly forgot my purse in the office.”

Oscar reached into his back pocket then hesitated. “Is this a mysterious code of American business, or do you just want me to pay?”

Internally, she groaned. Her cheeks must be as red as the barista’s apron. “Yes, please. I’ll pay you back.” She bit her lip and watched him hand over the cash.

“Not necessary.” When he received the change, he rolled up the bills and placed them in the tip jar sitting out on the counter.

The barista’s stared wide-eyed at the addition to the jar. “Thanks, sir. Your order will be right up.”

She followed Oscar to the end of the counter and waited for their drinks. “I suppose our server was happy I forgot my purse. Gosh, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.” He folded his hands behind his back. “I was raised to always pay when in the company of a lady. It’s a habit I find hard to break, even when I’m not in my homeland.”

“And where is that?” Her curiosity won over the challenge of figuring it out herself. She accepted a warm paper cup from the barista and inhaled. Coffee always smelled good, no matter what time of day or how warm the weather.

Once Oscar was handed his cup, he motioned for her to lead. “Montecelia. Have you heard of it?”

“We learned about Montecelia in geography class, and it’s on my mom’s list of places she wants to visit someday. I think my mom had a crush on the king when she was younger.” She weaved through the light crowd of shoppers. Most of the workers behind the various vendor stands were busy cleaning or restocking their display cases. She was tempted to stop at a gourmet cheese counter but remembered she currently was without cash. She’d come back tomorrow pick up some cheese curds to bring Mom on Sunday.

She headed in the direction of the entrance. “You mind finding a place to sit outside? The weather is so beautiful.”

“Outside is fine.” He held the door as she exited then followed her out. “The king is…was a very handsome man.” His slight smile faded.

She walked down the entrance steps. Maybe she should travel to Montecelia someday. With that someday likely being years and years from now. “High school was a long time ago, and I don’t remember much, so tell me about your country.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He shortened his stride to keep pace with her. “Montecelia is a small country tucked in between Spain and France on the Mediterranean coast. Most of our architecture is Spanish influence, cuisine tilts toward French. We have one of the world’s top ports, and yachts come from all over the world to anchor.”

Sounds lovely. The thought of breaking away for a vacation grew more appealing. “You paint an enticing picture. I haven’t traveled much outside Wisconsin and never to Europe.” She led him to a bench set in a shaded spot on the sidewalk outside the market, and they sat. “If you go down to our lakeshore, you won’t see million dollar yachts from all over the world.” Pushing down her insecurity, she forced a smile.

Just because she’d grown up poor didn’t mean she didn’t have class. She built her business off her ability to rub elbows with different types of people. She was even on a first-name basis with her movie-star clients.

“What brought you to America, and more specifically, Wisconsin?”

“I traveled to Wisconsin to broaden my knowledge of the world.” He lifted the lid and blew over his coffee before taking a cautious sip. “All my plans hinge on finding a job.”

“You said earlier that you lack work experience. Did you leave a position in Montecelia to come here?” She crossed her legs and angled her body towards him. Her heartbeat quickened with her budding attraction.

Oscar rubbed his chin. “By lack of experience, I meant I’ve never earned a paycheck. I’ve worked in the family business, so to speak. Still do, and I hope to return to it once I’ve concluded my time here.”

A slight pressure built behind her temples. No work experience besides the family business. What did his family do? Hopefully not organized crime. Her stomach churned.

She lowered her gaze to his hands—one held his coffee cup while the other rested on the bench seat between them. At first glance, his neatly trimmed nails and long, slender fingers hinted at an upper class upbringing. But after further inspection, she noticed a few rough patches on the sides of his thumbs and index fingers. He must spend some time working with his hands.

Amelia would move forward with her questioning, praying he’d eventually give her a good reason to hire him. “You said you have a degree?”

“Yes, in business from the university in Barcelona. It’s one of the top universities in Europe.” His smile widened.

“What area of business did you major in?” Amelia’s optimism budded. A degree counted for something. Showed he attended classes and completed assignments, though granted, that was likely years ago.

“I have a degree in accounting.” A car horn blasted from the street, which temporarily grabbed his attention. “Math is a subject that comes naturally to me.”

She needed someone strong at math and spreadsheets because she definitely was not. Lilly, her best friend from college, was a math whizz, but she was currently living in Tennessee. During their school years, how many all-nighter study sessions had they pulled together, drinking pots of coffee and eating junk food? Obviously not enough. Amelia’s brain ran more toward the creative than analytical. “How comfortable are you with computers?”

He draped his arm across the back of the bench and rested an ankle on the opposite knee. “I can work with basic programs, but I’m not an expert.”

Her indecision faded with the comprehension she desperately needed him. While covering for Heather, she continued to put her business at risk. Then there was the big celebrity wedding next month, which would soon require all her attention. “Royal Weddings Incorporated needs a temporary business manager. The opening is for about three months.” Amelia exhaled. “I need someone who is dependable and accurate, and someone I can trust.”

His dark eyed gaze stayed fixed on her. “I’m made a commitment to live and work here through August, and I’m accurate to the point of being obnoxious.”

What about dependable and trustworthy? Would he take his job as seriously as she required? Tension squeezed her chest. “The job of temporary office manager is important. You’d pay bills on time and track clients’ payments. Also, keep contact with vendors to verify that orders are on schedule and delivered properly, assign new clients to wedding planners, and track billable hours for each planner.” She blew out a breath. “I know it sounds like a lot, and it is. I’m doing all of this now on top of keeping up with my own clients. I’m not doing either very well.”

“A business manager for a wedding planner. An interesting proposal.” He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a long drink. “Before our conversation goes further, there’s something important you should know about me.”

“Please don’t tell me you fled your country because you’re wanted for murder.” She gave a nervous laugh.

“Nothing that bad.” He reached inside the pocket of his sports coat and took out his passport. After opening it, he handed it to her. “My name.” He tapped his index finger on a long set of words.

Amelia’s gaze skimmed over his name. “His Royal Highness Oscar St. Palgreen Concordia Mendoza.” Wait…she must have misread. She looked at the name again. No way. “Crown Prince of Montecelia.” She spoke the next section of his name. Glancing over at the photograph pasted on the opposite page, her breath caught. “Is this you?”

He removed his arm from its relaxed spot on the back of the bench and inclined his body toward her. “Yes,” he said in a hushed tone. “My father was King Marlon of Montecelia. He passed away last December, leaving me heir to the throne. I’m set to be crowned in December, that is if the country doesn’t dissolve the monarchy before then.”

She looked around, searching for a camera or someone who set up this hoax. No way was the man she met on the street, the man who helped stop traffic so she could save her wedding binder, a foreign prince. “I don’t think so. The guy in the photo has more hair. Where’s all your hair?”

He brushed the palm of his hand over his head. “Most of my hair is in the dumpster behind Gerald’s Corner Barber Shop. I asked for a typical American haircut.”

She studied the passport through squinted eyes, trying to detect a forgery. “You asked for a bad haircut?”

“Bad haircut?” He set both hands on top the short stubble on his head.

Despite her serious scrutiny of Oscar’s claim, she smiled. “I shouldn’t have said bad haircut. How about cool? As in short hair will keep your head cool on hot, summer days.”

Grinning, he took back possession of his passport. “Thank you for believing me.”

“I didn’t say that.” She examined his face, finally concluding it matched the passport photo. And to be fair, he did look the part of a handsome prince. “Why would a European prince come to Wisconsin looking for a summer job?”

She’d be crazy to hire him. Oscar claimed to have no work experience, despite the fact he was well past his university years. If he was wealthy, he’d grow bored with an office job and leave. And if he didn’t, he’d definitely be a distraction in her office. And if he wasn’t who he claimed to be, he could very well be delusional.

So why couldn’t she silence the voice in her head, nudging caution out of the way and begging her to give him a chance?

~ * ~

Oscar should have anticipated the disbelief sooner. He’d chosen a country that had revolted against a king. Americans, as a rule, didn’t give much attention to the overseas royal families besides the British crown. “I realize my claim sounds like a trick but I would never mislead you, Amelia. Do you know what the Queen of England looks like? Prince William and Harry?” He waited for her to nod before he continued, “But would you recognize the King of Spain if he walked down the street? Or the Prince of Monaco? Or how about Prince Carl Philip of Sweden?”

Her eyebrows drew together, creating two creases in the middle. “I could spot Queen Elizabeth in a crowd, but you’re right, I couldn’t identify the others.” She twisted the lid of the coffee cup in her hand. “If you’re really a prince, then don’t you have a castle somewhere and a princess stashed away?”

He laughed and imagined sweeping her away to his castle. His mum and sister would adore Amelia’s savvy. “Mendoza Castle is my family home. No princess, yet, except for my sister, but I’m sure that’s not what you meant.” His heartbeat increased with her brightening smile. “My family has tried and failed to get me to settle down.”

“I’ve heard that’s a symptom of being young, handsome, and wealthy.” Her cheeks turned a pretty rose color, making her flawless ivory skin radiate with a healthy glow.

As the years passed, he felt increasing social pressure to marry. His heart, on the other hand, wouldn’t allow him to promise forever without love. Until six months ago, he’d expected more time before becoming king. And where there was a king, there was usually a queen.

“I had a brief period of irresponsible frolicking in my early and mid-twenties, but then I discovered I enjoyed the company of a few close mates or solitude even better.” With solitude being the preferred since his father’s death. “I’m out of touch with my country’s people…a problem I’m solely responsible for. Combine my shortcomings with an increasing desire of the population of Montecelia to end the nobility and class structure, and I had to take action or risk my family’s titles and legacy.”

Her lips parted, shaping into a pretty, pink heart. “Your country wants to end the monarchy?”

His burden and shame. “I’m attempting to restore my image, so to speak, by living and working like an average person in a country where most people don’t know who I am.” A loud motorcycle rumbled down the street before turning the corner. Oscar took in the sound of the engine until it slowly faded. He thought of his father, who’d desired to escape his royal duties for an afternoon on the seat of one of those motorcycles but never had the chance.

“Do you think working in America for a few months will convince the people of your country that you understand their lives?” She shifted on the bench and moved closer. “You will retain the same privilege and therefore the same outlook on the world. A few months sitting behind a desk for forty-hours a week won’t fundamentally change you.”

“I understand your argument, but my only other option is to travel across Montecelia making meaningless speeches. How would that be better?” At this moment, he didn’t need to convince her of the success of his plan, he needed to convince her to hire him. Amelia Newland was the best chance he had of finding decent employment in Milwaukee.

“I don’t know.” She crossed her arms over her body. “Who am I to boss around a prince?”

He chuckled in response. “You believe me then?”

“Does it really matter if I believe you? I need to trust you.” Sighing, she tapped a finger on her thigh. “Okay, as long as you have documentation stating you can legally work in the country, I’ll give you a chance. Work starts at eight AM tomorrow.”

The thrill of victory came over him. “I’ll be there.”

She stood, and he followed suit. As he shook her hand, he felt a pleasant tingle spread through his body at the contact. Amelia might be pretty enough to entice him, but he was smart enough to know he should keep his focus solely on work.

“Tomorrow, then.” After a quick nod, she tossed her paper cup in a nearby garbage reciprocal. “Best of luck finding an apartment. There’s a new building by the Summerfest grounds. Very nice but not overpriced. Even someone with a king’s fortune in his back pocket might still appreciate a good deal.”

“See you tomorrow.” Oscar remained standing beside the bench and watched her stroll away. Could he calm the energy running through him enough to fall asleep tonight? Tomorrow, he’d begin proving himself worthy of her confidence. No one who knew him would believe Oscar Mendoza, Prince of Montecelia, was excited to go to work.