Sweet.
Baby.
Monkeys.
It’s like a slow-motion scene from a movie. Dante shakes his blond bangs out of his eyes and the sun catches every glint of gold in his hair. His legs are long, lean, tanned and muscled and HolyCowThereIsAGod. If I were a man, I would totally be wolf-whistling right now. But then again, if I were a man, I guess I wouldn’t be wolf-whistling at Dante.
I’m such a weirdo.
“Reece Elizabeth Ellis, are you listening to me?” my mother demands from the other end of the phone.
Um, no. I hadn’t been. I have no idea what she said. In fact, I had forgotten that she was even on the phone at all. Dante’s short-short shorts are to blame.
“Of course I am,” I answer as I push the curtains back so that I can see Dante better.
Stalk, much?
I ignore the voice in my head and the voice in the phone and concentrate on Dante. I don’t know who he is playing with. It must be one of his friends, because the boy appears to be our age, too. But the strange boy doesn’t hold my attention. He’s totally eclipsed by Dante and I don’t feel bad about that because the strange boy probably used to it.
Dante serves the ball and it whizzes past the other boy like a comet.
Dante laughs and the other boy scowls as he positions himself to return Dante’s next serve. Dante fakes him out and laughs as the boy swings at the air. I am reminded of a Labrador when you throw a ball, then fake it and the dog still runs to get it.
Dante laughs again and then serves for real. It whizzes past the boy’s head again. The boy throws his racquet and Dante rolls his eyes. As he does, he catches sight of me watching. I duck behind the curtain.
“I’ve gotta go mom,” I say quietly. “I’ll talk to you later. Love you, too.”
After a moment, I peek carefully out the window again and Dante is waiting for me, standing in the middle of the tennis courts, waving cheerfully at me. He totally knew that I was watching and he waited to catch me fair and square. Nice.
Dante: One. Reece: Zero.
I smile at him and wave, and he motions for me to come down.
My heart goes pitty-pat again and I glance down at myself.
I’m wearing the same shorts and shirt that I was wearing earlier because I have nothing else to wear. I’d only packed one extra outfit in my carryon. And I’m thankful for that much. My mom insisted that I do so in case my flight was delayed or my bags were lost and I’d thought it was stupid, but apparently she knew what she was talking about. I make a mental note to thank her. But I’m definitely not pointing out that she was right. That would set a dangerous precedent.
But for now, I cautiously make my way down the stairs and toward the back doors of the Old Palace to find Dante. I am still amazed and in awe of this house. Palace. Mansion. Capitol. Whatever you want to call it. It’s crazy big and crazy gorgeous. And it has a staff. One of them, a maid dressed in an honest-to-god black and white maid uniform looks at me and smiles.
“May I get you anything, miss?” she asks. I shake my head.
“I’m just hunting for the back doors,” I admit to her. “I’m afraid I’m a little turned around.”
She laughs and I realize that she’s not much older than I am.
“That’s okay,” she tells me. “This is a big place. I couldn’t find my way for weeks after I started working here. Go down that hallway there and then it will open up into a huge room. There will be a glass wall of windows and doors and just pick a door. They all open up to the outside.”
“How old are you?” I ask curiously. She looks taken aback for a moment and I apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m American. I guess we don’t have much tact. Or that’s what I’m told anyway.”
She laughs. “No, you’re fine. I’m sixteen. I work here in the evenings during the school year and full-time during the summer.”
That makes sense. A full-time summer job. That’s perfectly normal for a teenager. It allays my fears that Caberra has hideous or non-existent child labor laws.
I stretch out a hand.
“I’m Reece,” I offer. “I’m staying here for a little while until the airports open up.”
“I know,” she tells me as she shakes my hand. “I know who you are. I’m Heaven. I work here. And I’m probably not supposed to be socializing with you right now.”
“Oh.” I feel deflated. She had the potential of being a friend. And honestly, I could use a friend. I’m thousands of miles from home and my BFF Becca.
“It’s okay,” she assures me. “I’m not going to get into trouble. Don’t worry about it.”
“Hey, how did you know who I am?”
Because it just hits me what she said. I know who you are.
She smiles again. “Everyone knows who you are. Or, at least what you look like.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and punches at it, then turns it to me.
A picture of Dante and me from this morning, pre-jellyfish sting, stares at me from the screen. The caption screams, “Is Caberra’s Favorite Prince in Love?”
“Prince?” I ask dumbly as I stare in shock at the picture. “This was from this morning. How did they get it posted so fast?” I look closer at the website. It looks to be a gossip website. Oh, sweet Lord.
“Oh, that’s just how the media refers to Mr. Giliberti,” Heaven answers. “And pretty much everyone else does too, I guess. He’s not actually a prince, but he might as well be.”
I gulp and take a moment to center myself.
I am in a beautiful place with a beautiful boy who just happens to almost be a prince. No big deal.
“Reece?”
Speak of the Princely Devil himself.
Dante’s husky voice fills the room we’re standing in and as I turn, I find him filling the doorway too. He’s sweaty and hot, in more ways than one, and I smile weakly.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him as he crosses the room. He’s wearing a white tank top that perfectly shows off his bulging biceps. “I got turned around. Heaven here was just showing me the way outside.”