Chapter Twenty-Six: Smokey Joe's Cafe
"Jamil, (puff-puff) what is your problem? This isn't a – gasp! – this isn't a race. Slow down, please!"
Mary hated how tired and out of breath she sounded, huffing and puffing as she hurried along the street holding tightly to Jamil's hand. The two of them had given the press and the official royal watchers the slip and had just enjoyed a whole morning together. The shy princess was genuinely interested in spending time with the handsome young billionaire who was to be her future husband. But her mood would have been far brighter if dark, sexy Jamil quit prodding her to keep moving, to hurry faster and faster.
Jamil seemed so tense and angry lately. Was he having second thoughts about the marriage?
"Sorry, my sweet. It's just that I made reservations for lunch. And I don't want us to be late."
"Reservations? But Jamil, we've passed a dozen perfectly lovely places to eat already. This looks like a cheap American diner!"
"Ah, but Smokey Joe's Cafe is the best American diner in London! It's named after the hit show and the classic song by the Coasters. The food, the furniture and the music are all absolutely authentic and totally capture the mood of the 1950's!"
"How wonderful," Mary said politely. They had to wait to be seated, and her feet were tired. She really didn't understand what was going on. Jamil didn't like cheap diners, and neither did she. Why had he dragged her here in such a hurry?
"You'll like this place, I promise," Jamil assured her. He leaned over and kissed Mary lightly on the lips. "The press won't look for us here. No cameras and no prying eyes!"
"Well, all right." Mary didn't mind the kiss. But she really didn't feel like sipping thick vanilla milkshakes through a straw and eating greasy French fries with her fingers in a noisy crowded restaurant. She just was not in the mood. All she wanted was a quiet chat with Jamil in some secluded spot. And afterwards, she wanted an afternoon all to herself so she could rest and think. Lately Mary felt as though she never got a chance to relax, except when she booked an appointment at her stepmother's favorite spa. It would be lovely to see that pretty new masseuse again. She was the one who had winked as Mary stretched herself out on her cushioned table, and teased her about her strenuous royal duties. Having a long afternoon with her would be absolutely delightful!
"Hey," Jamil said, his dark brown eyes showing genuine concern. "Is everything alright? You look so . . . preoccupied."
"Sorry. I was just thinking how nice it would be if we could have some time alone." Mary hated herself for blushing. She hadn't been thinking of Jamil. They'd been friends since childhood, yet lately they'd drifted apart. And they'd certainly never shared anything like that afternoon she'd spent at the spa, when the cheeky new girl got her heart pounding with just a wink and a smile. Mary had enjoyed those strong, knowing hands. The brisk massage was both soothing and quite exciting. And after that . . .
"I know things are happening fast," Jamil was saying. His gentle voice roused Mary at once. "Neither of us expected this."
"Huh?" Mary had been a million miles away. "Expected what?"
"The marriage, silly." Jamil's stern features softened as he drank in Mary's flushed face. Taking her arm, he led her to a back booth in the noisy restaurant. "We've been friends for so long it's hard to picture us as a couple. How will we ever manage to get undressed and climb into bed together without laughing?"
"It doesn't seem that funny to me," Mary said moodily, stabbing a long golden French fry into a pool of blood-red ketchup. She had to pull herself together before they met their waitress! Mary helped herself to another perfect golden fry. She didn't really like American food, but the fries at Smokey Joe's Cafe proved very appetizing. Besides, focusing on the fries kept her mind off the idea of getting into bed with Jamil, the two of them making love as man and wife. "Jamil, I just don't picture us that way!"
"I understand, Mary." Jamil shoved a straw into a thick chocolate shake and sucked greedily. "The problem with being married is that for people like us there's always a more tempting option! Look at your own mother and father, the king and queen."
"What do you mean?" Mary thought about her beautiful young stepmother, Queen Jane, and all her foolishness with men. In the past, Jamil and his father had both helped foolish Jane to conceal her occasional slips and escape punishment by the jealous king. "Jamil, I love Jane. We all do. But I could never be like that!"
"I know that," Jamil said gently. "You're not Queen Jane, you're you. The queen is . . . well, Jane enjoys the royal life. She enjoys being well looked after and having very nice things. She'd never give it all up for a handsome tennis pro or a rugged body-builder."
"I know," Mary sighed. She could picture Jane right this moment, lying on a massage table with a blissful smile on her lovely face. Though she adored crowds and excitement, the queen also enjoyed her privacy, often taking time off to rest in peaceful, privileged seclusion. Were the two of them really so different?
"Queen Jane is weak, Mary. But she isn't a fool. She would never destroy her marriage, and give up privilege and power for love."
"And you think I would?" Mary couldn't understand where Jamil was going. "We aren't even married yet and you're worried about me cheating with some other man?"
"Not some other man," Jamil said grimly. Just then the pretty waitress came trotting over with a pair of menus. And Mary got the shock of her life.