“Of course, I’m okay,” she returned quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m doing the work I love, living in a beautiful place, and I’ve got friends ...andmy very bestest bestie is about to become a princess. What could be better? Now, tell me everything. What’s happening there? What’s this royal prep you’re talking about?”
I wasn’t stupid. I knew a diversion tactic when I heard one. But clearly my friend wasn’t ready to spill on whatever might be going on in her own life—not yet, anyway.
“First of all, I’m not going to be a princess. Only women born into the family get that title. If Her Majesty confers a title on Nicky when we get married, I’ll be ... Lady whatever, I guess, according to what I’ve learned so far. Maybe the Duchess or the Countess of something or other.”
Shelby made a derogatory noise. “Pah, that’s just semantics. You’re marrying a prince—in my mind, that makes you a princess. But let’s talk about the juicy stuff. How’re the wedding plans coming along?”
“Those are fun—when I have time to participate in the planning process.” I leaned back in my chair. “Right now, my priority is to learn as much as I can about actually being a member of the Royal Family. At least, that’s what I’m told. I have to memorize things like who takes precedence over whom, when to curtsy, how to speak to all kinds of different people—oh, and then there’s really complex stuff, like how to get out of a car.”
“Seriously? What’s the trick there? Maybe I’ve been doing it wrong all my life.” Shelby giggled. “Fill me in.”
“Well, see, the problem is that often when we exit a car when on an official engagement, photographers are there waiting to snap our pictures the minute we arrive. So when the door opens, I have to remember to swing both knees around, keeping them together so no one can see up my skirt, and then bend a little and stand up. I’m not supposed to scramble out of the car like a turtle who’s been turned on his back.” I grimaced, remembering Lady Marjorie’s sniff of disapproval.
“Color me schooled. Who would have thought there was a right or wrong way to get out of the car? What else are you learning at royal school?”
I ignored her jibes. “Some of it is an extension of what I’ve been trying to do since the press began following me last year. I smile, but I don’t say anything when I’m being photographed, or when the reporters yell things to me as I’m going about my life. I have to remember not to press my lips together. Apparently, I do that a lot, and it makes me look funny in the pictures. When I get out of the car to go into the office every day, the thought that’s pounding through my brain isopen your mouth, but just a little.I can’t go around with it gaping, either. I work on keeping my jaw relaxed without looking like an idiot.”
“That’s wild. Do people really care about this stuff?”
“Oh, do they ever. The Royal Family employs heaps and heaps of men and women who live for this shit. Someone using the wrong fork at a state dinner can give them nightmares for months.” I propped my feet on the edge of my desk and crossed my ankles. “Making sure I’m ready to go public is their ultimate goal right now. I have my first official engagement with Nicky next week, and my teachers are all about to lose their minds.”
Shelby laughed. “These people need to learn about real stress. What’s the big outing with Nicky?”
“We’re visiting a food and wellness center in Brixton. Nicky was already scheduled to be there, and now they’ve just added me, too. It won’t be anything too taxing—I just show up, smile, talk to the people who run it and have pictures taken. I think I can manage that.” At least, I hoped so.
“Just another day at the office. What else do you have coming up?”
“Well ...” I smiled and leaned my head back. “Two days after Brixton, we’re attending the opening of the balletGiselle. It’s a benefit for one of Alex’s charities, and she asked us to go with them that evening. I have a beautiful dress to wear, and we get to meet the ballerinas afterward.”
“Okay, now I’m jealous.” Shelby was definitely pouting on the other end. “I’d ask you to take pictures, but I guess that’s kind of a done deal, isn’t it? I’ll probably wake up the next morning and see them on my Twitter feed.”
“Probably.” I closed my eyes. “Let’s just hope it’s because everything goes right and not because I’ve screwed something up. All of this is a lot harder than it might seem.”
“I understand that,” Shelby spoke softly and more seriously this time. “Are you okay, Ky? Are you handling it all right?”
“Ah ...” I drew in a deep breath. “I guess. I think I’m picking up on all the tricks they’re teaching me. There are just a few little things that make me anxious.”
“Such as ...?”
I wasn’t sure how much to say, but then again, this was Shelby. She’d never told one of my secrets, ever.
“Do you remember Sophie Kent? The reporter who we liked?”
“Oh, yeah. Pretty girl, right? Stayed later than the rest after you and Nicky—well, when you were on a break.”
“Thanks for the delicate way in which you phrased that,” I replied dryly. “Yes, that’s Sophie. I hired her—well, the Palace did—to be my press liaison.”
“Did you? What a great idea. I’ll bet she’s doing a terrific job.” Shelby paused. “So why does that make you worry? Is shenotdoing well?”
I rubbed at the knee of my jeans absently. “No, she’s fabulous. She seems to know how to deal with the press, how to strike a balance between being too familiar and alienating them. Most of the reporters like and respect her. I’m really happy with her work.”
“Yeah, I can see exactly why this is a source of stress to you.” Shelby’s tongue was firmly in her cheek.
“It’s not Sophie who’s the problem. First, it’s the fact that I had to get pushy about hiring her. I went against advice, and I bucked the system. It made some people ... unhappy, and I don’t want to be that girl, you know? The loud American who insists on getting her way.”
“Who’s saying that you are?” Shelby inquired. “Nicky’s not upset, is he?”
“Not at all,” I admitted. “On the contrary—he was really proud of me for standing up for what I wanted.”
