The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 72 - LHR → YVR

"Good to meet you!" Allie said, sliding into the chair next to me. "We really have to make plans, Sam! I want to hear all about your stay in London. Is it true what they say?"

I tried to laugh. "I dunno. What do they say?"

"That you were sleeping with Prince Harry!" she squealed.

I cringed as several people turned to look at us. "You can't believe everything you read in the papers."

"But there were photos! It looked like you—it was you, wasn't it?" When I hesitated, Allie leaned closer. "Come on, you can tell me! If I was sleeping with a prince I'd want everyone to know about it!"

And there was one of the fundamental differences between us, I thought sadly, knowing that things had changed. I wasn't willing to talk about what was going on with Harry. It wasn't just that in the public eye he was still engaged to Meg—I knew that even when we were officially linked I still wouldn't want to share the details.

"There's a lot of fake news out there," I said, weighing my words carefully. "There's really nothing to tell."

"Well of course you don't want to talk about here," Allie said. "How about dinner at my place?"

I made a show of checking my phone. "I can't today. I have to spend some time with my dad—I just got in on Monday and we haven't really had a chance to talk." That much was true, anyway.

"I really don't have time to chat right now either," Allie said, standing up, much to my relief. "Maybe this weekend?"

"Maybe," I said, not wanting to make any commitments I would later regret. "Text me."

"Will do," she said. "I'll call up Iris too. Wait till she hears that you are back in town!"

We said our goodbyes, and Allie made a point of giving me the double air kiss, which felt really strange now that I was back in Canada. Kayla remained stoically silent while we finished our coffee, and I was more than ready to get back to the condo and start cutting fabric.

I was deep into my designing late the next morning when my phone rang out with Harry's ringtone. I answered it quickly, hoping that now we would finally be able to talk.

"Hey, love," he said after our initial greeting. "I'm hoping you can help me out."

"Sure. What is it?"

"I need your address in Vancouver. The street address."

I rattled it off quickly and heard Harry repeating it to someone else on the other end. "Are you going to send me something?" I asked.

"No," he said, his voice a bit smug. "I'm on my way from the airport. I needed the address for the driver. How long will it take me to get there?"

"The airport?" I repeated. Then, like an idiot, "You mean YVR? The Vancouver airport?"

"Yes, exactly," he said. "How far away is it? How long until I get to see you?"

My mind reeled. "At this time of day? I don't know...45 minutes? Maybe an hour, depending on traffic?"

"That's perfect," he said. "Can you be dressed and ready for me to pick you up by then?"

By now I was used to this request. "Sure," I said, unable to keep the grin off my face at the thought of seeing Harry in less than hour. "What should I wear?"

"You know I adore you in anything...and nothing," Harry said, "but you should dress as if this was going to be the most important day of your life."