When I get back to the flat, I'm filled with energy over the excitement of this job.
I fill out the paperwork quickly and email it over to Alistair so that HR or whoever can get me on file as a freelancer, and even though I know I should do a little work on my site, I give Oliver a call instead.
"Hey," he says. "Just so you know, I have to go into a meeting in ten minutes."
"That's okay," I say. "I'm just calling to let you know that I just accepted a gig to freelance as – get this – a royal reporter for UK's Huffington Post."
There's silence on the other end of the line.
"Oliver?" I ask.
"I'm here," he says. "I'm just shocked, that's all."
"Shocked that someone would want me to be a royal reporter?"
"No. Shocked that you would take it considering who your boyfriend is."
"I'll only be freelance," I say. "Apparently one of the regular reporters is going on maternity leave soon, but since there are two royal reporters on staff, I'm only going to be freelancing. And even then, probably only covering minor events—most likely not even the stuff that Liam would be at. I'll be following his cousins and distant aunts and uncles around."
"You sound excited," Olly says.
"I am excited. It's real experience. And more money."
"That's very true," he says. "I'm happy you're happy. I hope it all works out and your boyfriend and his family are all very cool about this."
"I'm sure it'll create a bit of a kerfuffle at first," I say.
I'm not stupid. I know that this isn't going to be the most thrilling information for them to hear and digest. But when I explain that it's freelance and part-time, I think they'll be okay with it. I mean, they're cool with Natalie dating the royal photographer for Getty, and Lord knows she has way more information to give him than I would ever have to write about.
"As long as you're going into everything with your eyes open," he says. "Okay, I have to run. Congrats on the new job. I'm really excited for you."
"Thanks," I say. "Good luck in the meeting."
When we hang up, I change into comfier clothes, then get to work on a few posts for my site. I get a throwback post ready, this time with photos of Ben, Liam – and even their dad and grandfather – all playing polo ahead of this weekend's match, update the royal happenings itinerary with the most recent officially released info, and then add a few new items that have popped up to my "Emitate" section, where all of the links to clothes, jewelry and shoes that are the same or similar to things Emilia has worn lives.
It doesn't miss my notice that a cute day dress she wore a while back is on deep clearance, and I consider picking up one for myself. But, I figure that might be weird these days, so I decide against buying that one, but do pick up a new celebratory dress from the website's other clearance offerings.
When I'm done with all that, I check out what other royal bloggers and reporters are posting about (a little market research is never a bad thing), and start planning my day tomorrow. Though I do have another KP appointment, afterwards the day is mine for the taking.
As I'm looking into the Harry Potter studio tour, which I definitely want to see while I'm here, to find out just how in advance I need to book my tickets and train ride out there, my phone rings and I feel a little burst of giddiness in my stomach when the photo I snapped of Liam at Shake Shack pops up.
YOU ARE READING
Courting Royal
Romance*An unedited royal romance* After graduating from journalism school in the midst of the American recession, Maggie Rhodes became frustrated with freelancing in New York. Having followed the British royal family since she was a child, thanks to the i...
