“Yes.” He tipped his head toward the lobby and elevators as he said, “If you will come with me, I will escort you to the meeting.”
I shook my head and put my phone on the table. Then I folded my hands like his, to put him at ease, and said, “I thought we were having the meeting in the lobby, in public.”
He sniffed, like I’d offended him. “His highness prefers a more private setting.”
My skin now had a buzz. Had I heard that right? I wished I’d ordered a water as my throat was dry now. I asked, “His highness? As in a prince? I was insisting on meeting in the lobby because of the lack of identification in the email proposal.”
Mr. Butler said, “That’s wise.”
I tugged my ear lobe, free of any earrings now. Maybe I should ask him for his ID first. I pushed my phone to the side and asked, “So who is he? Let me check him out online at least before I join you.”
He nodded. I picked up my phone and snapped his picture for a fast check, too, as he said, “You are meeting with Prince Ryder Kristoff of Norden.”
The app confirmed that I was sitting with Gio Montpelier, personal associate of the royal Kristoff family. My heart raced as I remembered headlines even I had seen. “Didn’t he get married in Vegas, like, yesterday?”
Gio’s lips thinned as he said, “It’s been annulled.”
I typed in Ryder’s name to see if there were crimes or things to watch out for. I had heard his name before, but honestly, I avoided gossip and only knew the headlines from scrolling for blog ideas. I raised my eyebrows and stated the one thing I remembered as the app showed a clear record. “And he’s been accused of fathering two children.”
Gio leaned closer. “DNA tests proved both claims were untrue. Does he qualify for the meeting now?”
My breaths were short. I should probably refuse this. My Modern Life consultations weren’t designed to help a player who was already content with his life choices. However, I decided to take a chance. A picture of him and me together, and the fact that we’d had this meeting at all—now that might get me some clicks and help me over the problem of Cristiane’s comment and video. I packed up my laptop and phone, stood up, and tugged at my t-shirt to smooth it. “Yes. I’m not dressed for a meeting with a prince, though.”
He glanced up and down at me as we walked through the decadent lobby that probably seemed way too gaudy and American to a royal servant and his master. “You’re fine,” he said. “I’ll be serving brunch, not caviar.”
Right. Besides, I was representing my business, and snapping a picture as myself would be better for the blog. I ignored how my hair stood on its ends as I realized how selfish I was being right now.
He pressed the button for the elevator and my mind raced as we waited. As the doors opened, I asked quickly, “Okay, one more security question, though. What is your name?”
He used his card to access the penthouse floor and said, “Gio Montpelier.”
I took my phone out and said, “Your background check matches.”
The floor lifted and my skin was getting goosebumps. Seriously, today I was meeting a prince and here I was in sneakers. Gio kept his hands behind his back and said, “You’re a good researcher.”
“I should be.” I tucked my phone back in the bag and bounced on my feet. When the elevator stopped, we stepped off and headed to a double-door entry. As we took our last steps, I swallowed and said, “But I should mention, I have an app and a subscription to a quick background check service, so I could make sure that you’re not crazy, and you’re who you said you were.”
He took out his card and waved it in front of the door panel. The light turned green as he said, “You’re smart. I hope his majesty notices that about you.”
I almost trembled. I was never like this, on pins and needles with excitement. But I shrugged and said, “Well, I’m here to advise him, if he wants to listen to my advice and change his life, which probably won’t happen. But that is up to him.”
His blue eyes had a glimmer in them for the first time, but he said nothing as he led me into the living quarters designed for the rich. There were two floors in this gold room, with black railings around the second level, so whoever was above could look down below. A crystal chandelier shimmered with light above me.
“Smart girl,” he said. “You see his majesty’s options, without ever meeting him. Good luck, Miss Steel.”
My stomach was in a huge knot. Seriously? I turned toward him as he headed for the door and said, “Wait. Why did he take a meeting with me?”
He turned as he opened the doors and said, “His father has threatened to cut him off if he doesn’t change, so he’s under pressure.”
The recent headlines about a rich, out-of-control prince played in my mind. I wished now that I had clicked on them to read more. I sucked in my lips as I thought, and then let them out and said, “Okay. Thank you.”
Gio bowed like I was important and then said, “I hope we see more of you around, Miss.”
Probably not. I helped people who wanted my help, and my brain screamed that a self-indulgent prince was the opposite of what I looked for in a client. He’d ignore everything I’d say. Rich boys tend to be happy as they are, even if they actually aren’t.
Then I heard footsteps. My heart was practically in my belly at this point, but I gazed at the stairs and waited.
First, I saw polished black shoes. Tailored black pants that showed off leg muscles. A tucked-in white shirt that didn’t hide six-pack abs. Next were broad shoulders. It was a build only a soldier or a gym buff might keep.
