Normally you would have EPOV this chapter but he's in timeout right now. He's needs to think about what he's doing for a hot minute. He's got everyone really confused.
Thanks to JulesColes3 whose review really helped me. Y'all have her to think for this chapter.
All mistakes are mine, as always. I have a wonderful beta but I'm an impatient whore who can't wait so overlook any errors please.
The American Princess
Chapter 14
BPOV
"Pick out a dress. It's just a garden party." I helpfully suggest to my personal stylist.
Carmen shoots me a dirty look, one of many since she got here.
"It's not just a garden party, Bella. It's a royal garden party at Buckingham Palace for sobbing out loud. The King and Queen only throw a handful of these per year. And you have the golden ticket! You shouldn't have waited to fly me here."
"I had it under control, Carmen."
"I saw what you wore when you got off that plane, you shameful hussy. And you ignored all my texts so I'm still pissed about that."
"Are you going to help me or not?"
She starts rifling through the hanging garment rack. "Only because you pay me," she sniffs.
I sit back, thumbing through one of many magazines this place has on automatic delivery. Edward and I haven't been on the front cover in a couple of weeks but that was all about to change with the sudden reminder for him and invitation from him to me of some garden party his family was throwing.
Alice offered to help but I am Bella Swan and I do have an arsenal at my disposal. And I really need to distance myself from the rest of the royal family. I was doing so well until this came up. So, I finally returned Carmen's many attempts to reach me. She says she knew I needed her for this and I say she was just being a nosy bitch. We're both probably right.
She finally narrowed the choices down to five.
This was our system. She went through all the outfits sent to us by designers- this time all British. Apparently, that was a thing… and narrowed them down to three with two on standby in case I hated them all. Which is rare, but there are certain things I won't wear and dress number one was one of them.
"Nope. I refuse to wear orange. Are you still jetlagged?"
She threw it aside then brought out a pretty green fitted dress. It had pockets, so I didn't hate it at all.
"Maybe."
"Might be too casual though," Carmen mused.
"It's a garden party not an invitation to the White House."
Carmen muttered some choice Spanish words under her breath. I have no doubt she was cursing me to the depths of hell.
Next was a lace nude knee-length. "Too blah."
Carmen sighs. "Okay, so maybe the green."
"Let's see the back-ups."
She brings out a cream-colored silk sleeveless dress. Pretty but no. I shake my head.
"What's wrong with this one?"
"Sleeveless. The royals do not like my ink."
"Blowhards," she mutters. She has more ink than I do.
"Okay, last one." She holds up a knee length pleated baby pink dress. Long sleeved, square neckline, youthful but not indecent.
"Why was that one in the back up and not that orange monstrosity?"
"I like to keep you on your toes. So, the pink?"
"I need to try it on but yeah. Shoes?"
"Nude," she picks them up and shows me, then rummages through some boxes stacked behind the clothing. "Okay, now let's talk hats."
"Hats? No, I don't do hats."
She peeks out from where she is. "You are in England. They wear hats to everything during the day but none at night, I think."
"I hate hats," I grumble.
"Well, I hate I am in this position. It's ten o'clock in the morning with a two o'clock showtime."
"This isn't a theater production."
She levels a scathing look at me. "You sure about that?"
I roll my eyes but remain quiet.
"That's what I thought. Now, hats."
***TAP***
Once again, I am baffled by the person staring back at me in the mirror.
"Perfect," Carmen nods satisfactorily.
"I look like Bella Barbie," I grumble.
"You look proper."
"My point exactly."
Weird shaped pink hat- check. Thank God, it doesn't resemble a vagina.
Hair straightened and sleek- check.
Pink Jenny Packham dress – check.
Nude Louboutin's- check, check.
I frown.
"If you didn't like it, why did you pick it? Wear the sleeveless. Change it up."
I turn around to face Carmen. I really need to talk to someone with estrogen.
"So, Edward wants to abdicate."
"Random, but wow."
"Yeah, and he's being really immature about it. Kind of obnoxious to be honest." I cross the room and sink down slowly and carefully on the couch in the corner of my room. "I don't think he has thought this through and he really is way too old to be this rebellious."
Carmen laughs.
"What do you find funny about this?"
"You. You're funny." I bitchface her but she continues anyway. Obviously, I am losing my effectiveness. "He's not that much older than you and you are nothing if not rebellious."
"How so?"
"That trilogy you did. The powers that be asked you to please not cut your hair and you do anyway for an independent. Which is fine but then you complained about that damn wig constantly during shooting and press. Dress code for a fashion show says wear a cutting-edge pantsuit from their selection. You wear the blazer and that's it. Please be cautious where you put your ink the studio says. Ink is visible with certain clothes." She sighs and comes to sit next to me. "You are the nicest, kindest person I know but when someone tells you to do something you don't want to do, you rebel."
"But I'm not a prince," I point out.
"I would hope not seeing as you have a vagina. That's not the point at all. It doesn't matter who you are or what you do. Rebellion is rebellion."
"Fine. You've made your point now let me make mine."
She waves her hand at me to continue.
"I think he sees me as a convenient scapegoat which I refuse to be. And I think all he sees is the micromanaging part of his responsibilities."
"Well, they are called responsibilities for a reason."
"I'm not sure he really sees how much good he can do with his title. So, I've made a decision." I pause for dramatic effect.
Carmen rolls her eyes.
"Right. I am going to help him be the best prince and future king he can be."
Total silence.
"So…"
"What do you know about being a good royal?"
"Well, nothing but I do know about philanthropy. It's more than just making appearances for the sake of being seen or writing a check, so you can be among a list of donors. It's about connecting with the people and making them know you hear them even if you can't fathom being in their position. When we went to that hospital, he waved and smiled like he was a talking bobblehead. He needs to get down on the floor with me and get dirty."
Carmen smirked.
"Not like that! I'm talking about homeless and sick people and you want to get all pervy."
"Okay, so you want to teach him the wonderful part of his position. And you think you are going to accomplish that by dressing like Princess Barbie and showing him the error of his family's ways?"
"Haven't really figured that out yet. I'm gonna play by ear."
"Yeah, cause that's working out so well for you so far."
"You really are a wench, you know that?"
"Your point being…"
"My point is he doesn't know me well enough to have strong feelings for me. He keeps changing his plans so much, it gives me whiplash. The only end in sight to him is to abdicate. He's trying to run away from his problems. Seeing how cold his father is, I can't much blame him, but I also can't have this shit on my conscience either. Can you imagine? 'The Actress That Destroyed the Royal Legacy'. Details at six."
"If I may interject, that kiss shows he is feeling something."
"It was a great kiss but the only one so far." I frown.
"He hasn't kissed you again? Do think he did it just for show?"
"No. He's not cruel, he's just oblivious to anyone else's feelings but his own. I think at that moment in time, he stopped thinking and just felt. Not as the prince, not as the king's son but as Edward."
"Well, I wish you the best of luck but word to the wise; keep your damn panties on."
"You have such a way with words, Carmen."
"Yes, I do but now I must bid you a farewell and go sleep off this jetlag at my hotel. I'm on standby if you need me."
"Do I need to call you a driver?"
"Nope, already arranged for one with your credit card," she grins as she grabs her purse and laughs her way out of the room.
As the British would say, Cow.
I look at my gold wrist watch and see it's almost showtime.
Ugh, I mean time to go.
It's not a show anymore. It's become something very serious.
I came here to help him, now I'm here to save him from himself. Tall order for an actress from small town Washington.
And I know at the end of this, I will be heartbroken and, on a plane, back to America, but I know deep down it's a small price to pay. Anything is better than the alternative.