James glanced over briefly, then returned his attention to unpacking the food. “Roof,” he said, a word that seemed to have an accidental profound effect on both of us. His hands froze in place, hovering over the utensils, and my blood boiled in my veins. His lips parted uncertainly as his eyes flashed up to mine before he forced his face quickly into a charming smile. “Hotdog or pizza?”
I laughed before I could stop myself, taking a mental snapshot of the adorable image. I didn’t realize when he placed the order, since I was too busy reminding myself to talk in complete sentences, but he opted for plain old street food, all the junk no one should ever eat, except at a fair or festival.
“Gee, does someone regret missing the London Carnival?” I said, staring at the greasy feast of paper-wrapped corndogs, popcorn, churros, and pizza. I settled into the closest chair and snatched a bag of hot, buttery popcorn from the heap.
James settled across from me with a grin on his face. “I asked the mayor to throw it earlier next year. He’s considering it.”
Unable to be shocked anymore, I couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking. “That’s very nice of him,” I said with a smile, then threw two salty kernels in my mouth.
The two of us settled into a thoughtful silence, munching on deep-fried bites of sugary goodness and washing it all down with melted milkshakes.
Finally, the tension boiled over in the form of my inevitable inquiry: “Why didn’t you tell me who you are?”
James sighed, set down his pizza, licked a glob of mozzarella from the corner of his mouth, and glanced over the balcony. “See them?”
I squinted and took notice of a little swarm of paparazzi in a frenzy below, flashing their cameras here and there. “Yeah,” I said. “What about them?”
“That’s my life. But you...” The breeze swept his hair across his forehead as he stared at me with bright, thoughtful eyes. “You are not part of that. As long as I was with you, I didn’t feel like part of it either, at least for a little while.”
It was such a sad statement, quite ironic coming from a prince who lived at the top of the world. I stared back at him, lost in thought, falling further and further under his spell. When I noticed a little red smear on the other corner of his mouth, my lips curled up in a sudden grin, and I reached out a tentative hand. “You have, uh... I think it’s pizza sauce. May I?”
His eyes shot up to mine, and he leaned forward with a little smile, then held purposely still as I wiped the tomatoey goop away with a brush of my finger. The slightest touch sent electric shockwaves shooting up and down my spine, and for a split second, we both froze.
Finally, I found my senses and pushed my chair back and hurried to my feet in what felt like one single motion. “I should get going.”
The speed of my movement seemed to surprise him, but he needed only a moment to collect himself. A second later, he was following me inside, handing me my purse as I crossed the floor. “Where? To meet Robert?” he asked lightly.
I paused mid-step, keeping my eyes on the door, but my heart was still out on the balcony. “No,” I said quietly. “You saw how things are with your brother.”
James looked at me quizzically, his eyes staring deeply into mine. “How are they? Over?”
I blushed at the tinge of hope in his voice and tucked my long waves of hair behind my ears. “They never really got started.”
“But something happened between the two of you.”
“No, I never slept with him. Just made out with him because I thought it was you. It didn’t get too far. The second I saw he didn’t have a tat, I left. I officially knew it wasn’t you.”
“So you never dated him?”
“No. But I did try to jog his memory. He had no idea what the hell I was talking about.”
“Well, he knows the truth now.”
“I’m glad. Because he probably thought I was some office sleut trying to seduce him to get up the corporate ladder. But trust me, things never got started. I can guarantee you that.”
He stared for one more moment, then nodded. He seemed so cool, calm, and collective. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was an ac
t, some sort of defense mechanism, but everything he said was damn believable—even more so when he bowed his head, smiled politely, gestured to the front door, and even held it open for me to walk through it.
“I did try to find you, you know,” he blurted suddenly.
I whirled around in surprise and saw him just staring at me again, with his fingers in a white-knuckled grip around the doorframe. “You did?”
“Yes. A couple days after we, uh... Well, a couple days later, I went to the apartment where I dropped you off that night, but no one was there. I talked to the owner and she refused to tell me anything, no matter how much I bribed her. She said your privacy was way more important than some stalker getting your new address. I tried the neighbors, but they didn’t really know you.”
My mouth fell slowly open as the realization hit me: Of course no one was there, because when my apartment flooded, I had to leave the very next day. It had never occurred to me that he might come back, that he was looking for me just as hard as I was looking for him. A sudden warmth rushed through me at the thought, one that began deep inside my chest and settled somewhere in my smile. “Well, you found me after all,” I said, beaming.
“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” he said, his eyes glowing with anticipation, as if something wonderful was about to happen, some spectacular event I didn’t yet understand. “I guess there’s no stopping fate.”