I dropped the phone on the neatly made bed. “That may be, but I never would have kept it for four years if I’d spoken like a street rat, now would I have?”
“Blah blah blah. I’d be bored to tears with a stuffy gig like that. The only time I want to use the words ‘Yes, sir,’ ‘No, sir,’ ‘Right away, sir,’ is when I’m kneeling in front of some hot Dom with a huge knob.”
I choked on my own saliva and Tilly lost herself in a fit of hilarity as I coughed and had to hold on to the wall to steady myself. “Where in the world did you learn to talk like that?”
“It’s just a skill I was born with, I guess.” There was no preventing Tilly from being Tilly.
“On that note, I’ll be late for work if I don’t hurry. Check your account at the end of the week, and don’t tell Zaz, all right?”
“Okay. Thanks, Alice.”
I smiled at the phone, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you soon.”
We both hung up without exchanging goodbyes or I love yous. We’d never been a particularly demonstrative family. In fact, I can’t say I’d ever heard my father tell me he loved me—and Mum’s affection was so far in the past, I hardly remembered. But we did love one another, of that there was no doubt. Unfortunately, love was sometimes a double-edged sword.
I ran my fingers through my freshly brushed hair and switched my focus to the day ahead. I had work to prepare for, a new spokesperson to magically conjure into existence, and a unibrow that needed dividing in two before I set foot out of this flat.
And after work, perhaps I’d make a quick stop for a push-up bra to perk me up—in more ways than one. It might do the trick, even if there was no one to see it but I.
We were back to the bergamot spritz again as Grier’s fists hit the desk in front of her. “Why, oh why did I dump my uni boyfriend for that coked-out guitarist who cheated on me thirty minutes after we began dating?”
“Excuse me?” I drew my notepad closer to my chest, wondering if we’d transitioned into the hallucination stage of panic.
“My uni boyfriend, Gabriel. He’s now a talent agent, and he represents Val sodding Rau!”
I couldn’t help my sharp inhale at that. “Really?” I hurried forward and helped myself to the seat across from Grier’s desk. Val Rau was inarguably the hottest actor in the Feldlands—an up and comer in America as well—and was rumored to be… let’s just say… genetically blessed in areas besides his face. “I assume you’ve just discovered this?”
Her shoulders slumped inside her trim jacket. “Yes, and I’m considering strangling myself.”
“Please, let’s not do that.” I crossed my legs at the ankles and considered my boss for a few beats. “If you had to qualify this breakup with the agent boyfriend, how would you rate it on a scale of one to ten?” Perhaps there was still hope.
Grier’s eyebrows spiked. “One being we both cried and promised to remain friends and ten being he set my car on fire and told my dad I had herpes?”
“If you wish.” I nodded, only slightly terrified.
“Eleven.”
I inhaled deeply through my nose and readied my pen for another brainstorming session. “Okay, let’s just move on to plan C, shall we?”
“I already did. Val Rau was plan G,” Grier groaned as her head fell back and she began murmuring under her breath.
“Oh.”
Her desk phone rang, and I leaned over to pick it up while she continued her self-flagellation. “Grier Vorhees’ office. How may I help you?”
“Ah, yes. This is Anthony Burgess returning her call from Beckering Palace,” a man with a Feldish accent responded and I almost choked.
“Tony?” My voice took on a pitch usually reserved for unexpected spider sightings in the tub.
“Uh. I’m sorry. With whom am I speaking?”
A smile spread across my lips. “I apologize. It’s Alice Williams.”
“Alice?” He dropped his formal tone. “What in the bloody hell are you doing answering my call? Did I cock things up and ring the wrong number?” He sounded happy to hear from me, and it warmed my heart a bit. I missed many of my former coworkers, not that I would consider most of them friends exactly; I wasn’t the consorting type. But when you encounter someone every day for over four years, a degree of familiarity can’t help but form.
“No. Not at all. I work for Triumph now. In the States,” I added the obvious.
Tony let out a small chuckle. “This is beginning to make a lot more sense.”
“Oh? How so?” A glance at Grier showed her still addressing the ceiling with her thoughts.
“One of the secretaries took a call from, well, your company, I suppose, enquiring about possibly hiring one of the ‘lesser royals’ to represent some new glasses product. Can you imagine?”
Oh, I could. I could imagine that very well indeed. I shook my head as it suddenly became clear what Grier’s plan F had been.
“I’m sure it was just a joke, Tony.” I threw in my own short laugh as I lied through my teeth.
“Don’t they know the queen doesn’t have a sense of humor?”
I held in my gasp at that. Tony had always been a bit cheeky, but to speak ill of the queen was inexcusable. He must have wrongly assumed I’d lost my sense of decorum when I’d left the palace. Still, it wasn’t my job to correct him. My job was to sell glasses and mind my own business now, so I decided on a neutral response.
“You’d better hope no one is listening in on this call, Tony.”
“I’ll be all right.” He sounded unbothered. “I must fly, but it was nice chatting, Alice. Bye now.”
“Goodbye, Tony.” I returned the handset to its cradle, thoughts of Queen Elsie floating through my mind. I’d always admired her, not simply because she was the queen, but because she was both decent and strong. Throughout her husband’s illness, she’d shown resilience and fortitude, while also managing to be an emblem of comfort to the nation. Malcolm often disparaged her, which I suppose is every child’s right, but I knew he admired her as well. He’d do well to take a page from her book while embarking on his new position. If he could manage to harness her strength, the king’s warmth, and combine them with his own irresistible magnetism, he’d be an excellent leader.
“Who was that?” Grier asked, her eyes on me again.
I attempted nonchalance. “That was my old colleague, Anthony. He works for the royal family.”
Her spine straightened as her expression brightened. “Oh, right! I forgot about that one. Well, what did he say? You didn’t let me speak with him.”
A delicate touch was called for here, so I leaned forward, folding my hands in my lap. “Ms. Vorhees, you must know the idea of a member of the royal family endorsing a commercial product is impossible on numerous levels.”
Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t mean the queen herself. I thought maybe there was a distant cousin—a duke or something who could use a few euros. Every country has its share of royals who’ve fallen on hard times.”