“You lovelies go ahead.” Ella’s pace matched that of a hermit crab. “I’ll be along. Save me a seat.”
“We can’t leave you behind.” Daffy and Leslie Ann flanked Ella and headed down the beach.
The evening was stunning, cool and salty, full of sounds only God could create. Above them, the pinkish sunset swallowed the blue sky, and the scene demanded contemplation.
Daffy sank into the silence as the three of them walked to the pub. Any more questions from Leslie Ann about the shirtless chap, and she’d blush again. This time she couldn’t blame the sun or a jog to the cottage and back.
She didn’t understand the blushing. She wasn’t one to do so easily. But it started when she was a girl. Whenever the prince came round. Well, no worry. She’d not see him again.
The Captain’s Hideaway was packed on this Monday night. A group of uni students hovered on the deck, the lads in Ohio State shirts and caps, the girls in tops adorned with Greek letters.
“Excuse us. Pardon us.” Leslie Ann pushed inside, past the picnic tables to the high tops on the other side of the dining area. “Broadcast presenter coming through.”
“They have no idea who you are, Leslie Ann,” Ella said as they cut through the crowd. “I thought this was a quiet, private beach. Where did these people come from?”
“Probably on holiday, like us.” Daffy chose the only vacant seating and passed out the table menus. She liked the feel of this place. Peaceful, homey, as if one could come here to raise a pint and laugh with one’s mates.
That’s what they did at home. The three of them along with their friends. They migrated to Pub Clemency on Friday nights to hang out with Kayle and Frank, Tonya and Marlow, Albert, Rick, Jones, and Thomas. If she moved to America, she’d miss those nights.
“I’m having a cheeseburger.” Ella slapped her menu closed.
“Same.” Leslie Ann shoved her menu aside and took out her phone. “Snapping a picture for the mates at home. Our Florida Pub Clemency.”
Daffy smiled as the server, a young man with a surfer vibe, set down tall tumblers of water and asked if they were ready to order.
Three for three. Cheeseburger, fries, and a diet fizzy.
“If you see the chap who hit you with a Frisbee, point him out.” Leslie Ann scanned the room. “You might have a boyfriend, but I don’t.”
Daffy rested her cheek in her hand as a warm blush bloomed on her cheeks. Don’t think about him. Prince Augustus had to stop turning her cheeks into candied apples. He was a friend—no, more like an acquaintance. An HRH. Royalty. Out of her league, no matter what their past.
“Did you see the puddings?” Daffy reached for her menu again “What do you think of sharing the chocolate molten cake?”
“Daff, your face is all blotchy.” Leslie Ann pressed her hand on the menu. “I barely mention the chap on the beach and look, we could fly a sleigh by your light.”
“You exaggerate. Ella, cake for pudding?” Daffy put the menu away. “Really, LA, I’m not one of your interviewees on the Morning Show.
“Did he ask you out?” Leslie Ann came at her again with her deep, controlled reporter voice. The one she’d used when she broke the university cheating scandal. “Is that why you’re blushing?”
“Les, why are you making a deal of it?” Ella to the rescue. About time. “So she blushes?”
“Yes, yes, he did ask me out.” Thank you, Leslie Ann, for the excuse. “After he inquired of the cottage. We’re madly in love. Going to get married as soon as the law allows.” Daffy leaned to see down the aisle. “Where is our server with those fizzies? I’m parched.”
“Okay, fine, but don’t be a smarty.” Leslie Ann shoved Daffy’s tumbler of water toward her. “Drink this if you’re thirsty. Look, I’ve known you for thirteen years. I can’t recall you ever blushing. Well, except when Sprite Crandall dumped out your handbag and a tampon landed on his foot.”
“He turned into a flaming bush.” Daffy slipped from her chair. “I think I’ll go to the loo.” She shot Ella a look. Not another word!
Ella knew Daffy blushed when Prince Gus was around. It began during the writing of My Life with the Prince. Mum noticed it whenever Gus was around and teased her. The more she teased, the redder Daffy beamed. However, in the last eighteen years she’d not blushed once over the prince. Well, maybe a few times when she passed him at the palace. When she helped Mum with some Royal Trust function.
Following the neon light to the loo, Daffy rounded a corner just as a chap came in from the deck toting a loaded bin of dishes. She cried out, but too late. The whole lot slipped from his hands and crashed on the floor.
“I am so sorry.” Daffy dropped to clean up the mess at the exact same time as he, and their foreheads conked.
She moaned. He swore. Then hollered for someone named Carmen to bring a mop and broom.
“Please.” He raised his hand to stop her efforts to help. “I’ve got this. Go.”
“It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”
He tossed a broken piece of glass into the bin as he reached for the broom and mop brought ’round by another chap. “You should go,” he said.
“I insist—” When she looked up to plead her case, her eyes met his. “Your Highness.”
“Pete, remember?”
“You work here?” She lowered her voice to a raspy whisper.
“Are you here with your mates?” He abandoned his American accent and spoke with the full lilt of home.
“Leslie Ann insisted we come for burgers.”
“But you’ve kept my secret?”
“Of course. She knows nothing. Nor does Ella. They asked about the man on the beach and I told them you were interested in renting the cottage. Leslie Ann thinks you asked me on a date. I told her we were getting married to shut her up. You really hid here all year?”
“Amazingly, yes.” His fingers grazed hers as they reached for the same glass. Daffy pulled away from the heat of his touch.
“Rather brilliant, I say.” She reached for the broom. “I’ll sweep, you mop.”
After they cleaned up the mess, Prince Gus started for the kitchen, then hesitated. “I’ve avoided the Lauchtenland media for over a year. Do people wonder where I am?”
“At first, you were all they talked about. But once your brother became engaged, the news focused on him.”
“As it should. Is Lady Holland being embraced?” He set the bin on a counter just inside the kitchen entry.
“I believe so. She’s very charming and classy. Well suited for the job of future queen.”
“What do you think of her?”
“Me?” She shrugged. “She seems very real and sweet. Beautiful and poised. Prince John seems to adore her.”
“But how is she in person? She seems a grand choice but I only remember her from school days. And at a distance.”
“I’ve never met her. Why and where would I?”
Gus’s attention lingered on her. “With the Royal Trust, of course. At the portraiture. You attended my, my, you know…” He studied his worn black trainers. “Mum adores her and she and John have been friends for years. I guess Cupid finally fired his arrow and hit my brother.”