Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
No one offers me a carrot. If I’d been nothing more than a production assistant, I could have raided craft services by now. My friend Ivy knows where all the good food carts are. I could use one of her favorite cheap tacos right now. I wonder how His Majesty would feel if I showed up two-fisting tacos. Or hot dogs. Falafels.
I’m extremely hungry and doing this thing where I let my brain float while my body does something it doesn’t want to do. Like when I used to have to jog to prove I wasn’t unhealthy in high school gym class. Or when I had to hold a light in place for three straight hours on my second film set.
In this moment, I don’t want to have someone putting blush on my face and making my lips look poutier. I don’t pout.
Three hours tops and I’ll be able to chuck the shoes and become Patrick’s bitch again.
See, that doesn’t sound appealing either.
“Are you in there?” Patrick is standing on the railing.
I flash him my fakest smile. “I’m right here, boss.”
He studies me for a moment. “You disassociate like a freaking champ. You’re going to have to teach me how to do that.” He frowns like he’s said something he didn’t mean to and steps back down, shutting the carriage door. He hoists his thumb up. “She’s ready to go. Fox, remember that when you’re done with this, you’re on my time again, and I won’t care that you got to play princess for a day. You’re going to be a commoner like the rest of us.”
I give him a jaunty salute as the liveried driver takes his place.
“But what you did for Hannah was cool,” he says as the lights turn on and suddenly all attention is on me. “I won’t forget that.”
“All right, folks. We’re live in five.” The director has a megaphone. He sits in a crane chair about ten feet off the ground. “Four, three…”
The last two numbers are counted down on his fingers, and then the coach begins to move. I’m jostled and kind of tilt to the side. There’s a good five seconds when I’m absolutely sure I’m going to tip over, and with this dress being as short as it is, I will be flashing everyone watching Pinnacle’s streaming app. I barely manage to not make myself a forever meme by staying upright, but now my heart is pounding.
It’s not pounding like in anticipation of meeting my true love. Nope. It’s pounding because I’m going to fall out of the carriage or say something ridiculous or not be able to say anything at all.
The carriage moves slowly, and I remember to smile. That’s what I’m supposed to do. Smile and look like I want to be here.
From the look on the director’s face as I pass him, I am not succeeding. Christy stands beside him, smiling like a maniac and letting me know I should, too. More smiles she says silently.
So I do. I barely see anything as the carriage moves and I struggle to stay upright.
And then I’m there and some dude wearing a costume that reminds me of Downton Abbey is offering me a hand.
I look over to where the king stands.
Where the familiar-looking king stands.
It’s Luca.
The same guy I spent one of the best nights of my life with that involved absolutely no sexual contact.
Well, he told me he has a high-powered job.
I feel my jaw drop, and then those red-soled shoes hit the railing and I’m the one dropping.
I’m falling, and the guy who should catch me steps back in horror.
I’m certain I’m about to faceplant on the concrete when strong arms go around me and I’m eased to the sidewalk.
Luca’s face lights up with what I can only think of as amusement. “Hello, gorgeous.”
I’m in so much trouble.
Chapter Seven
“Keep filming,” the director yells, and everyone goes back to their places.
Luca makes sure I’m steady on my feet before he steps back. “I’m King Reginald Lucannon St. Marten, at your service, my lady.”
That freaking accent. It’s super British. I thought the man was English, not Ralavian. Ralavious. Ralavan. I don’t know. Of course I don’t know anything. If this had been a regular job, I would have studied everything I could about it and the people involved, but I’m not truly here to help the production. I’m here to spy, so all my research has been on Joseph Helms.
There’s the sound of a throat clearing. You know what I mean. It’s that sound that tells you you’re taking too long.
I’m sorry my panic attack is going on too long. I thought I was on one show, but it turns out I’m Meredith Grey meeting my boss after I slept with him the night before. Except for the sleeping with him bit. Even that feels important. Like maybe our body parts had been separate, but I swear there was some soul touching in there.