Kay

6. Wrong Time Wrong Guy

"He is one fine piece of ass." Rachaelle "whispers" as September stands not but 10 feet from us, his "fine ass" becoming farther and farther away. I laugh at her incredulous manner and admire his definitely fine ass. The first few hours were great me and September walked around the palace talking about our lives and where we grew up and all sorts of useless personal information.

"Ideal girl?" I asked September as we sat on a bench popping kernels of popcorn in our purple lips.

"Firstly, she has to be as selfless as Mother Teresa."

"You're shitting me right?" I spat, trying not to die of laughter.

"I beg your pardon?" He looked at me with a deep shock.

"Oh, honey, you're seriously dreamin' if you feel like a woman exists like that." I pat his shoulder lightly and continue to shove my mouth full of the puffed corn.

"Okay maybe you're right, I mean what is the likelihood of me meeting the next Mother Teresa?"

"Slim to none I'm sorry to inform you."

"Okay, anyways, secondly, she must have sarcasm that surmounts any I've seen before."

"Good luck with that, since you now know me."

"Bloody 'ell you sure do like to comment on everything." September says with a chuckle. I blushed and made the gesture of zipping my lips and settle back against the wall. "She has to be brilliant, but not snobby brilliant but nerdy brilliant. She has to have a smile that would make a crying baby laugh and warm my heart when I'm feeling low." I hold back a snort at that one; he glares at me his gray eyes flickering with humor. "And most importantly she has to love me full heartedly with every part of her soul, she has to look past my quirks and moments of temper and see me as her perfect."

"Her perfect what?"

"Her perfect... I don't know... her perfect... gah I don't know, how do you not know what I mean?"

"You are a decent guy that wants a girl to love him for him. None of the guys back home have any need for a girl unless they want to get in her pants." September laughs.

"I've decided that I like you." He smiles at me. I quirk an eyebrow at him.

"What will your fiancé say? Never mind her, what will Griffin say?" I say with mock concern.

"We will just have to run away together where they will never find us." He leans forward inches from my face.

"Who are they?" I ask with a strangled breath.

"I don't know the haters of love I guess." He pulls back with a laugh. I look at him sadly because here I am falling head over heels for a guy I'm not betrothed to. He sits there joking about running away with me, and I would have done it, because I am terrified of running a country especially when I'm not native to it.

"What's he like?" I chirp.

"Hmm?" September looks at me confused.
"The prince, what is he like?"

"Here we are talking about running away with each other, yet you are concerned with another man." I frown at his joke, and he quickly straightens in his seat. "Well, imagine my personality on a far less attractive guy with tons of money and a beautiful babe on each arm, and then imagine the opposite of that but with looks and the same personality and the money. Now take that and look at me." I stare at him totally bewildered by his description. "And now forget everything I just said because you're just gonna have to wait and figure him out on your own." I reach over a quickly slug him in the arm and laugh as he rubs his arm frowning in mock pain.

"Hey, Kay. Kay. Kay!" I feel an insistent tapping on my right shoulder. "Come back to me Kay." Rachaelle chirps in my ear pulling me away from my thoughts and back to the busy streets of central London. "I wanna go clubbing with Jared and Tammy, you wanna come?" I could see in her eyes that she didn't really want me to tag along with her and her "cool" British friends.

"Nah, I'm ok. I've got a big day tomorrow." I smile. She hugs me tightly then runs down the street to catch up with Sharon and her high acquaintances. I sling my bag over my shoulder and start towards the hotel which is only a few blocks away.

My keys comes out of the door with a slight click as I push my way into my luxurious room, I let out a deep sigh as I flip the light switch. As if on instinct a scream gurgles up from the base of my stomach and escapes my lips and echoes off the walls of my large room. A man I recognize after the oxygen returns to my mind, turns scared out of his mind by my high pitched. I bend over with laughter at his facial expression; he stares at my shaking body perplexed by my "American" ways.

"Sorry," I say breathlessly. "I didn't realize you were collecting my things tonight." I laugh at the man who had driven me here what seemed like ages ago when in reality it had only been a week since id seen his graying head and repressed smile.

"Yes, ma'am I will be taking your main belongings to the estate, and escorting you there tomorrow morning at seven." He isn't British. How did I not notice that before?

"Let me grab something to wear tomorrow and my makeup bag." I say quickly and rummage through my bag till I find what I am looking for and zip up my bags and hand them to him. "What's your name?" I ask him without thinking.

"Magnus, ma'am." He smiles like I was the first person to even care what his name was. Then I realize I could possibly be the only one that actually did.

"You're not from England?"

"No ma'am, I'm from Memphis if you can believe it." He smiles at me, and I hear his southern drawl for the first time. It makes me feel warm like a fresh baked cookie or the reassuring arms of my father. In his voice I feel kindness and simple pleasure that I have been missing since I graduated last fall. "Well I better be off." He reaches forward for my bags and pulls them up with ease. I smile at him as he passes through the doorway of my room and out into the London night.