VI
His voice kept on replaying inside my head. I could not be mistaken, but I should be wronged. He was not that man, possibly if I saw his features, like his nose, lips and jaws, in a short distance, I could conclude he was not that man who had saved me from that reckless car.
His Highness stood from his chair behind his long elegant table. He walked in front of it, leaned back on the edge and crossed his arms across his chest. I suddenly forgot how to breathe. I commanded my mouth to close, but it had its own life and I did not bother to order it anymore.
He wore his usual black two-piece suit with all his glory and power. The two buttons on the top of his shirt were open; his chest peeked through it.
"Are you going to answer? Or not?" he raised his eyebrow at me, but I did not respond.
What had I done? Instead of replying, I went to him, in front of him. I took his chin and tilted his face from left to right and back. I observed his strong jaw that perfectly matched with his powerful nose and kissable lips. I was not assuming.
His forehead wrinkled. "What are you doing?"
"You are – were that guy in the airport!" I put away my hands and pointed my index finger at him as if accusing him of robbing something from me. How could I not recognize him immediately? I always saw him on television and Internet. Maybe, my brain was not functioning right.
The most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen in my entire life narrowed, but filled with humor after a few seconds. "Finally, you recognize me. I thought you were the latest alien migrated in this world."
"But.. you...why...well...how.." I stammered and forgot what I was going to say.
He grinned flashing his perfect white teeth. Honestly? Those paparazzi and reporters were not fair in his pictures. I had no second thought of why women voluntarily jumped into his bed. That included the prostitute in the airport.
"Relax. I don't bite. Try to breathe," he commanded with full of authority as if he usually did it.
"I mean, I'm sorry for earlier. I should be polite in talking to you, your Highness," I bowed my head and bit my lower lip.
"Polite," he nodded and walk around me like a scientist observing its most critical experiment, "But now you already know I'm the Prince, you still held my chin disrespectfully. Seriously? Is that the modern meaning of polite?"
"My apology, your Highness. I can't believe that you and the guy at the airport is the same."
"You're really like that? Doing the things without thinking about it?"
"Of course not!" I snapped and suddenly realized I was talking to my boss, a Prince, a powerful man, "Of course not," my tune became soft and laughed a little, "Umm. Maybe, got tired from my travel."
He nodded again and returned to his throne also known as a swivel chair behind a grand table. He gestured me to sit in the chair in front of his table and I did what he had told.
His office was different from the employees' office where I would work. The place was wider than ours even though there was only one person working in here. Well, he was a prince. It explained all. Ancient paintings hung on the wall like those in the museum I had visited during my grade school. A mini living room and kitchen island placed on the west side of the room along with cabinets of wine, awards and picture frames. The east side had another study table with swivel chair, two bookshelves and between them, there was a door.
"That is directed to my room," he answered my unspoken question. "By the way these are the transactions happened during the month of September. I need the financial report by next week."
"That fast?" my big eyes surely pleading for an extension. He just nodded.
I scanned the papers I was holding and gasped when I read the amounts used for different events. This was not a simple job you could take easy, it needed a lot of focus and accuracy.
I got cautious when I noticed Prince Alexander put a hole on me using his green orbs. I looked at him but he immediately took away his gaze and put it on his laptop.
He cleared his throat and spoke without looking at me again, "Just a reminder, I don't tolerate latecomers. This is the last time you will get late when we have a meeting. You understand?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"And another one," our stares locked when he said, "I'm not interested to girls like you. If you're going to flirt with me, I'm so sorry, but I don't tolerate any office relationship."
That ripped my inside into two. I did not know why, but the hurt I felt stung as if a poison in my blood. I had two ex-boyfriends, first when I was in high school and the other during my first year in college. Two years and one year, respectively. Nevertheless, none of them broke our relationship; I was the one who broke our relationship.
None of them said they were not interested in me. No boys said that to my face. I could count using the fingers of my one hand the boys who had courted me though. Except this arrogant Prince, who thought the world revolved around him.
"I'm not flirting with you," I said steadily, but my cheeks were warm, "I'm here for the job you offered and nothing else."
"Good." He went back his attention to the screen of his Mac. "If you don't mind, I'm going to call you if I need you, but our final scheduled meeting will be after you finished the report next week."
"Yes, Your Highness," I stood from my chair and started to leave when I heard he said.
"And please, don't wear a thin shirt when you walked in the rain in public."
I looked back at him confused before I completely leave.
-----
The first time I saw Prince Alexander was during the funeral of the late King Henry that had been televised in the whole world. He was in his early twenties that time while I was a grade school student.
I knew from that moment that he was different from the ordinary prince who had a good reputation and positive look at life. As far as I could remember, he was a playful womanizer who wanted every woman to get naked in front of him.
But my point of view got a different perspective after our encounter in his office. Was that the real Prince Alexander? Or he was His Highness' hidden twin? He was a strict, disciplined prince. One hundred eighty degree different from the Prince of Scandals.
"....work here peacefully." Clarissa finished her long speech, but I never listened to her. My whole senses were in other dimension. We were in a room – my room – where I would reside for the next months or years I would work here.
This was located in the first floor, but connected to Prince Alexander's office in the second floor. A door (same with what I had seen in Prince Alexander's) was the connection of my room and his office. Clarissa said there was a stair inside it.
"Earth to Shirley," she got my focus this time, "I know how tired you are, so let's call it a day. If you needed a help, just get the phone and press eight that is directly to my desk."
"Okay, good night," I replied sounding sleepy.
"Good night," she left and locked the door for me.
My room had same size with our family's apartment back in Chicago. In here, I had a queen size bed, a two-person couch, coffee table, study table with chair, fourteen inches LED TV, walk-in wardrobe, and another door for my personal bathroom. I found drawers where I could put my things. Three windows surrounded me so I could look outside of the room anytime I wanted.
The rain already stopped, but there were still no moon and stars.
After I took a bath and changed to a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, I scanned the papers again and started to journalize the transactions from the balance last August until the end of September.
I seated comfortably in my swivel chair in my study table while writing when I did not realize how tired I was and drifted to sleep.
I woke up next morning on my queen size bed. At first, I was shocked and thought where I was until some sleepy nerves finally woke up and my memory came back.
I was in England, working as a personal accountant to a prince that I thought was only scandalized person but turned out to be a very strict boss.
I got up from my bed when something crossed my mind. The last thing I remembered last night was that I was writing on my study table. Oh my gosh, my journal! I run to my table, but it was clean as white. Someone might arrange my desk. Probably the cleaner of every room of the palace.
Moreover, I walked to my bed last night, but I could not remember it because I was so tired.
Instead of thinking the possibilities, the first thing I did that morning was to call Lola and my family that I was fine and still breathing. They encouraged me that I could do it because I was a good accountant. I thanked them for that.
I started my job in good vibes, blocking all the negative things waiting for me in my stay here in England. I hope it would last.