Chapter Three
Back in the states, I sat in my office, staring at the screen of my computer; my cursor hovered over the send button. This was an e-mail that I was scared to send. An e-mail that contained the article that was to run with my account of the concert for the late Princess Elizabeth. I wrote it to the best of my ability. It only took about 3 hours to write. I sat down the moment I returned to my hotel room from the Palace and wrote the entire thing, before my energy fizzled out. To say that it was a magical night was an understatement. London seemed to truly bring out the best of my writing creativity. If it were not for my job in New York, I would pack up my things and move to London immediately.
Being in the presence of the royal family was absolutely intoxicating. Being a history nerd, it was incredible to be standing in the same room as a family so influential, so part of history. I loved everything about London. I had been so sad to leave such a city that I hadn't had the chance to see everything in just yet. I had to make sure that I returned someday. With that, I took a deep breath and pressed send.
It had been a few days since the article had come out and the response was overwhelming. I was thankful that so many that read the paper had reached out to thank me about how the article touched them, made them feel as if they were there. About how they too wished they could have been in the presence of the Princes that night, to show their support. As I walked to work on a sunny Friday morning, I felt very thankful for a job that I loved. I was scrolling through my e-mails on my phone as I walked briskly toward the office. It was a bad habit; I always wanted to see what I was walking into when it came to work. Victoria was good about e-mailing me if there was something urgent that I needed a heads up about before I got to work. Currently, things seemed pretty calm for a Friday. As I walked into the building through the revolving door, James, our doorman greeted me with a smile. Things seemed to be busier today, somehow, as if some kind of storm was coming.
By early afternoon, I had finished all the tasks for the day, so I decided to start on my notes for the staff meeting first thing Monday morning. I was hoping to take this weekend off of work to relax and enjoy the city. It had been a busy week with travel and writing. As if on cue, Jacob Black, a mechanic that lived next door to my apartment sent me a text message.
Movie in the park tonight is Breakfast Tiffany's. You in? -J
I laughed at the text message. How did a New York City mechanic even know what Breakfast at Tiffany's was? I typed out a witty response and sent one back.
Sure, if you can tell me the name of the actress in the movie. ;)
I set the phone on the edge of my desk and checked e-mails one last time for the day. I was just about to pack up and head home for the afternoon when Victoria appeared in my doorway, her pale face flushed and her flowing red hair a little disheveled, as if she'd been running.
"Victoria, what's wrong?" I asked, a little alarmed. She was always so put together. Nothing ever rattled Victoria. A year and a half ago when Mike Newton went on a firing rampage, she kept a steady hand when he called her into his office. He ended up just wanting to warn her of the cutbacks and long hours ahead, but still.
"There's…a, um, gentleman…in the lobby…he's requesting a meeting with you." She said, stumbling over her words, a little out of breath.
"Victoria, it's 4pm on a Friday. I just worked a 60-hour workweek. I am leaving for the evening. Tell him I'm not here and ask if this can wait until Monday. Except try to rephrase it so it's not a question," I said, waiving my hand to dismiss her. I didn't want to be short with her, but she should know after all the frantic 2am e-mails that I wanted to cut out early today. She didn't move. I raised an eyebrow.
"Was there something else?" I asked, a little short. She bit her bottom lip, as if trying to find a diplomatic way to address something.
"No…but you want to take this meeting. Trust me." She promised, adamantly. I rolled my eyes. It must be someone rather scary to rattle Victoria like this. I gave in reluctantly.
"Alright. Show him in," I sighed deeply, checking my cell phone one last time to check the time. I had a text message from Jacob. I laughed aloud as I read his response.
Judy Garland. Duh. I'm not an idiot. -J
I typed back a quick response before my visitor walked in.
Um, no.
Was I close? –J
Not even a little bit.
I set the phone to silent and powered down my computer. I heard Victoria's heels clacking down the hallway. I fluffed my hair quickly and stood as Victoria walked in with a man dressed in a suit. He was standing behind her, the doorway hiding his face.
"Ms. Swan, P-…ooops, sorry," she murmured to the man with a smile. "This is Edward, he'd like to speak to you about the piece on Princess Elizabeth's memorial", she said, stepping through so that Edward could walk through the door. My jaw dropped to the floor immediately.
Prince Edward was standing in front of me, looking impossibly handsome. I reached my hand out for a handshake, saying a silent prayer he wouldn't notice how badly my hands were shaking.
"Prince Edward, an honor," I managed to stammer out. He shook my hand and I waved toward the seat in front of my desk.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked, my hand resting over my heart.
"Ms. Swan, thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice," he stated diplomatically. I tried hard to get ahold of myself to remain professional. The moment I got back to my apartment I could shut the door behind me and scream.
"And please, just call me Edward," he said, unbuttoning his suit jacket to sit down. For a moment, I had wished I had decided to clean up my office a bit instead of going out for lunch with Lauren today.
"What can I do for you, Edward?" I asked with a smile, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart. I couldn't get over how handsome he was, dressed in a charcoal grey suit. He wrung his hands in his lap as if he were the one who was nervous.
"This, uh, this is going to sound strange," he stuttered, avoiding eye contact with me. I laughed a little.
"Try me. I'm good with strange". I said with a shrug of my shoulders. He nodded, taking a deep breath before beginning again.
"I read your article, the one on my mother's memorial concert my brother and I hosted. I was…" he paused, searching for the right word, as if he was translating from another more familiar language. "Very touched." I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like he had a small lump in his throat. I felt one rise in my own as I leaned back in my cushy leather chair, my hand over my heart, unable to speak.
"Anyway, I um, just wanted to meet you. And I wanted to thank you. No other journalist has been able to capture the spirit of my mother so eloquently".
"I'm touched Pr-,sorry, Edward". He sat across from me, looking as if he was burning to ask me a question. I cocked my head to the side.
"Was there something else?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. He thought for a moment.
"Well," he began slowly. "I was just curious about something. Hypothetically, are you able to access records the general public is not able to?" he asked.
"Like what kind of records?"
"Crime scene records," he whispered, as if he was afraid someone would overhear. I arched an eyebrow.
"Has the Palace been the site of some kind of crime?" I asked, only half joking. He shook his head.
"Nevermind. Forget I asked." He said quickly as he stood. I rose out of my seat as well. He held out his hand for another handshake, "Thank you again, Bella. I just wanted to stop by to meet you," he said. I smiled.
"You traveled all the way to the States to meet me?" I asked, a little confused. He didn't answer the question.
"Thank you again for the beautiful response to the concert. I am thankful that you were able to come and glad you enjoyed yourself". He said, a little short, like he was in a hurry all of the sudden.
I walked home from the office in a bit of a daze. Had a Prince truly come to my office because something I had written about his late mother touched him deeply? It seemed so surreal. I walked briskly up the steps to my building and unlocked the door quickly. I felt like I needed to call someone, but who? Before I had to decide, my phone began to ring in my pocket. I smiled at the caller ID. It was Jacob Black, a dear friend from Seattle.
"Hey Jacob," I greeted, unlocking my front door.
"Please hang out with me tonight. I am so bored!" He exclaimed. Jacob had moved into the city not too long ago and still wasn't quite sure how to navigate the city, so he just stayed inside his tiny studio apartment.
"I need an hour to get changed and…recover," I told him with a laugh. I was debating in my head whether or not to tell him the events of today. If I told him a member of the royal family randomly showed up at my office today, not on accident, he'd never believe me.
"Sure, I'll pick you up in an hour. And by pick you up I mean I will take a cab and wait outside your building," he clarified. I laughed, I was so grateful for his friendship.
After I checked messages, I set my purse down by the front door and headed straight to the bathroom. I was in desperate need of a bath.
As I soaked in the tub, I had time to digest my conversation with Prince Edward. I felt connected to him somehow. Growing up, I idolized his mother. She was such an amazing woman. I feel strongly that while she changed the world, even from the short time she was here, she could have done so many more wonderful things. I never understood why serial killers lived for years but good people, like Princess Elizabeth, were taken from this world far too soon. As Edward sat across from me today, he looked broken. He looked confused, scared and torn. Even though her death was 5 years ago and he was a grown man, he looked like an orphaned little boy, sitting in my tiny newspaper office this afternoon. I checked my cell phone again, wishing I hadn't promised Jacob hang out time this evening. It was Friday and I desperately needed a night in.
Against my wishes, I was walking arm and arm with Jacob to Central Park just 45 minutes later. Actually, he was walking and I felt like I was dragging.
"Bella, come on! We're going to be late!" Jacob explained, walking quickly toward Central Park. I stifled a yawn.
"I'm so sorry. It was a long day." I admitted.
"Yeah, I'll bet. That story of yours seemed to go over great with everyone!" he said excitedly. I was a little irritated at his use of the word "story", but I let it slide. Jacob was just one of those people who spoke without thinking.
We made it to the park just as the movie began to play. I found a spot for our blanket on the lawn towards the back of the crowd. Jacob was notorious for talking through any movie. I learned early in our friendship to sit toward the back to offend as few people as possible. It was a beautiful evening in New York City. It was nights like these that I lived for.
"How was your day?" Jacob asked, as he unpacked the bag from our favorite deli.
"Jacob, why do you insist on going to movies to talk all the way through? We could have just gone to dinner". I said, looking around me self-consciously, hoping we weren't bothering anyone.
"Because this is an iconic New York City night. Besides, my girlfriend would never do this stuff with me. She thinks it's too cliché for a date night."
"How is Leah?" I whispered, taking a bite of my club sandwich.
"She's good. She's working a lot, though". He said sounding a little disappointed.
"Everything okay?" I asked, wiping the side of my mouth with the paper napkin.
"Yeah, it's fine," he shrugged, keeping his voice low, for which I was thankful. Jacob was a tricky case to figure out. Sometimes it was better not to ask when he sounded down and sometimes he wanted you to ask. Typically if he wanted to be asked, he'd sigh really loud after a long pause. I took another bite of my sandwich but didn't hear a sigh so decided to change the subject.
"Guess what happened to me today?" I asked, trying to bite back my ear-to-ear grin.
"Prince Edward came to visit you at work?" he laughed. My jaw dropped.
"How did you know that?" I asked, a little angry.
"Your assistant told me when I called. So what did he want?"
"To thank me for the piece on his mother's concert". Jacob only smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"That was all?" he raised an eyebrow. I only nodded.
"Yeah, it was strange. It was strange, he did ask me about my access to records and stuff, but dropped the subject before I could ask why."
"Well you can ask him now, because he's walking this way," Jacob said, as if it were my editor walking toward me. Sure enough, Prince Edward was walking toward me, looking impossibly normal in jeans, a baseball hat and a black t-shirt.
