"Quite fine, sir," he says with a firm nod, even though the parts of his face that are not covered with zinc look flushed. "I just need a day or two to adjust to my new surroundings."
"You're a good man, Gregory. Thank you for doing this for me," I say.
"It's nothing, sir. I'm merely doing my job," he says, clearly uncomfortable with the compliment. "Now, can you remember the eight words to avoid at all costs?"
Damn. I can’t remember them because they make no sense whatsoever. "Pardon?"
"I said, can you remember the eight words to avoid at all costs?”
"Yes, I heard you. I was guessing that one of them is the word pardon."
He chuckles a little, then says, "Quite right. One down, seven to go."
"Toilet?"
He nods, so I continue. "Couch?"
"Very good."
“Cologne?"
"Close, sir — perfume, but I would avoid the word cologne as well."
“Good tip, thanks.” I tap my finger on my knee for a second, trying to remember the rest of the words, but draw a blank. “That's all I've got. Sorry."
"The remaining words are: portion, patio, posh, dad, and living room."
Trixie walks into the tent and says, "Enid’s ready for you now."
I stand and give her a nod, then reach into the cooler and grab out a bottle of water and hand it to Gregory. "Try to finish the entire thing before lunch. It will really help."
When I get outside, I see a can of Red Bull sitting nearby on the flats. Enid points at an ‘X’ on the ground in the distance. “Okay, Will, we’re going to set up some fun perspective shots, the first one for the makers of Red Bull. We’re going to make it look like you're jumping out of the can."
I nod and walk over, even though inside my brain is screaming ‘SELL OUT!’ at me. Thank God I won’t be stuck doing this for the next several years…
We finally finish filming for the day after getting some footage of the incredible night sky and the campfire. Even the wedding prep film crew has called it a night, which is what I’ve been waiting for, because what I’m about to do is not something I need the world to see. In order to be ready for the reception, I promised myself I would practice ballroom dancing for at least twenty minutes every day. I consider leaving the camp area so as not to embarrass myself, but then I realize I'd have to walk pretty damn far since there's really nowhere to hide out here on the world’s biggest mirror.
At least I can go over to the other side of the trucks. That might afford me some privacy. I get up and start walking over, with Reynard, my shadow, in tow. Bloody hell. "You know, you probably don't need to follow me out here. We’ll be able to see any danger for miles."
"Sorry, sir, I have my orders," he answers in an apologetic tone.
I give him a nod and stifle the grunt inside me. Once I'm around to the other side of the vehicles, I turn on my phone to watch the tutorial video I downloaded before we came. I watch it for a moment, then I position my arms as though holding Arabella and give it a whirl, quickly losing the beat.
"If I may, Mr. Banks," Reynard says. "I'm rather skilled at ballroom dancing and would be more than happy to help you."
I pause the video and turn to him. "Really?"
"My mother was an Avonian national ballroom champion and, as a young lad, I used to help her practice.”
I narrow my eyes for a moment, considering his offer. The last thing I want is to take any help from anyone on my security team. That would mean I'll startneedingthem, and what kind of a man needs other men to protect him?
"Listen, Will," Reynard says, using my given name for the first time. "I know you don't want us around, and as a man, I understand. But the thing is, once you’re a part of the family, it doesn't matter how fit or agile or capable or masculine you are, not against someone with a gun. Each addition to the family adds liability and requires careful protection, not just for their own sake, but for that of the whole. Keeping you safe allows us to keep Princess Arabella and Princess Flora and Prince James safe as well."
"Yes, I've been given the speech already, thank you," I quip.
"Well, then, maybe we can approach this from another angle. I got into this line of work because I like helping people," he says. “But, until I was assigned to your team, I have to say I had pretty much the world's most boring job, and I find myself feeling extremely grateful to be able to go on so many incredible adventures because of you. And other than a few things I need to be prepared for and check on during our travels, I’m basically getting paid to travel the world, which, as wonderful as it is, makes me feel rather guilty. So if I can do some small thing to make your life better, it would be a great service to me because I’ll be able to fulfill my purpose in life — which is to help. And if said help comes in the form of teaching you how to waltz properly, nothing would please me more."
Well, how the hell do you say no to that? I let out a sigh, feeling like a complete brat for how I've been acting. "Thank you, Reynard," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "This whole thing has been extremely uncomfortable for me. I have never had anyone watching over me, even as a child, really. We were pretty much left to our own devices — which I loved, to be honest. Well, for the most part.” Why am I rambling? “Anyway, you’re right, being assigned an entire group of men to look after your safety does feel somewhat… well…"
