Acting Royal #Wattys2017

2

ZAYN

"What?" Five seconds into watching the casting tape Zayn pressed pause and stared. "She's totally wrong!" he hissed.

"But she ticks all your boxes," Rafiq pulled out his handwritten list and started reading, "Conservative looking, but not ugly. Kind and gentle face. Not a push over, intelligent and fun loving- but not in a nightclub kind of way. And not overtly sexy." He glared at Zayn and raised his usual disapproving eyebrow, "And although I'm not entirely sure what 'blow-job-lips' are, she seems not have them."

Zayn sighed. Once again Rafiq was right. He was always right. He would never admit that out loud though. She did tick all the boxes. He just hadn't taken the time to imagine what a woman with all those qualities would be like and he certainly hadn't imagined this. But she was definitely unlike any woman he'd ever dated before, and that was the point...wasn't it?

"Are you sure she's the best one for the job?" the prince was hoping that Rafiq had overlooked someone else. Anyone else.

"She's the only one for the job." Rafiq sounded irritated now. "But if you don't trust my judgment, feel free to trawl through all the other tapes yourself. Since you have all the time in the world to make this decision."

Rafiq was right once more. The flight was leaving tonight and someone needed to be on it with him.

"We're going to have to do something about her wardrobe." Zayn recoiled at the sight of her old leather sandals and tatty looking dress. She had no style. At least outside of the year 1995 anyway which wasn't exactly a good year for fashion as it was.

"Leave that to me." Rafiq sighed and exited as if he was exhausted. He probably was.

Alone in the room, the prince pressed play again, turned the volume up and made himself comfortable. He reached for a drink and crossed his legs as the TV screen burst to life once more. He scrutinized the image on the screen before him.

She seemed pleasant enough, if you were into that kind of thing. She seemed polite, she was definitely well spoken and he was impressed by her degree- something his family would probably be impressed with too, especially since most of the woman he dated didn't exactly place much importance on academics. One had proudly told him that she'd only gotten through college by sleeping with her professor.

She wasn't unattractive either, in some sort of way he never knew existed. And there was definitely something intriguing and interesting about her.... But then the completely unexpected happened.

First, it was a tiny smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched her rummage through that hideous handbag of hers. Her movements were clumsy and there was something sweet and naïve about her. Then the smile turned into a low, soft chuckle as he tried to imagine her in a clown suit, and then the chuckle turned into full-blown laugher as he watched her tear into Rafiq with her wagging little finger!

Zayn couldn't remember the last time a woman had made him laugh. Truly laugh. He rewound the tape and watched the scene all over again, and this time, something even more unexpected happened.

As she let her hair down he paused and stared. The static image blinked back at him silently, and something deep inside him began to stir. She was beautiful. No, she was stunning. This realization hit him hard and was completely threw him. He had a very specific type, and she was not it. At all. He liked leggy and blonde and polished. And she was none of those things. But there was something about her messy, fiery curls, her big blue eyes and the playful freckles that covered her nose that had Zayn out of his seat and standing just inches away from the Tv screen. He took a swig of his drink, mainly in an attempt to cool his now rising body temperature.

She was...she looked, she seemed...he had no words.

He pressed play again and watched as she loosened her hair, shook her head and let the red strands fall to her shoulders. This movement made her very ample breasts sway under her dress. Zayn breathed in sharply. Big, full natural breasts. He suddenly imagined putting his hands on them. Ripping her bra off with his teeth and watching them tumble out into his hands and mouth.

He smiled and adjusted the uncomfortable bulge that was now pushing against his zipper. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he thought. After all, no woman had ever, ever, said no to him. And she wouldn't either.

JENNY

"It was a total disaster Simone! I made a complete fool of myself." Jenny paced her apartment now deeply regretting her foray into honesty. "God, and I really needed that job. I can't go back home to my parents and the farm and..." she stopped just thinking about them again. One of the only ways she'd managed to get through that difficult time in her life had been by playing different characters and being outside of herself. She wasn't ready to give that up just yet, the last thing she wanted to do right now was have to be herself. Because that just wasn't good enough.

A loud knock on the door interrupted her rant and she froze. "I've got to go." She whispered into the phone before hanging up. Perhaps Mike had changed his mind about the rent? She glanced at the fire escape and was just about to throw herself at it when she stopped.

"I'm coming." Her voice was shaky as she tentatively opened the door expecting the absolute worst. But what happened next, was even more unexpected than she could have ever imagined.

"Congratulations Miss. Simm. You've got the job," said Mister refined voice with a smile. He looked so out of place in the small, dimly lit hallway in his expensive, perfectly tailored suit.

"You're joking, right?" Jenny burst out laughing and looked around. This was probably one of those reality shows where they 'punk'd you and played tricks on people. Where was the camera crew?

"No. I never joke. " Mister refinement shook his head handing her an envelope. She looked into his serious face and realized that he was, in fact, being serious.

"Your itinerary for the next several days. I took the liberty of buying you a new wardrobe, I got your sizes from the casting form, I hope it all fits?"

Suddenly a team of people burst into her tiny apartment inundating it with bags, boxes, shoes and suitcases of all shapes and sizes. She recognized some of the names that floated past her, Prada, Max Mara, Jimmy Choo, Channel and some others she wouldn't dare try and pronounce.

"Wait. Stop!" She threw here arms in the air and stamped her foor. "What the hell is going on here?"