Chapter 12
The day of revenge had arrived. I had spent the previous night establishing and confirming details with Aaron. He had secured the northwest dining hall on the second floor for my event and agreed to prepare the appetizers.
…Not that any of the guests would be eating much of the food. The hall simply needed to look presentable for the facade we were trying to achieve.
All morning I worked with Aaron in the kitchens, waiting to talk to Prince Harry since I did not want the unfortunate experience of walking in on him and whoever he had brought home.
“I think you’ll be fine now,” Aaron nodded, giving me the cue to deliver breakfast to His Royal Highness.
“Okay,” I breathed.
After placing the food we had prepared on the serving cart, I slowly walked out of the kitchens to the service elevator.. I took several deep breaths as I rode up to the third floor, attempting to rid myself of nervousness. As usual, the attempt proved futile.
I knocked on his door, nonetheless.
“Come in.”
“Breakfast, Your Highness,” I said politely, bowing my head slightly as I entered the room.
Harry was sitting at his desk, typing away at something on his fancy iMac. He faced me briefly, pointing to the space near the door where a few cushy arm chairs and a table were laid out. “You can leave it there.”
He turned back to the computer, returning his attention to whatever he was working on as I rolled the cart to his designated dining area. I turned back towards him as he ignored me.
“Excuse me, sir?” I fought to keep my tone as cordial and submissive as possible. It was proving to be quite a difficult task.
He let out a large sigh but continued typing on his computer. “Yes?” he questioned with his back still towards me.
“I was told to inform you that you have a dinner meeting this evening at seven forty-five in the northwest dining hall on the second floor, your Highness,” I recited, silently praying that he wouldn’t think to question my story.
He groaned in annoyance. “And no one thought to inform me of this sooner?”
“I-I’m just the messenger, sir,” I replied shakily. A blush made its way onto my face, and I silently thanked whatever luck was on my side that Harry’s back was turned. My apparent nervousness would undoubtedly reveal my lies.
“What is the meeting for, and why am I supposed to attend?” His questions betrayed his exasperation.
“A servant of my status is not allowed to know such important information,” I replied cryptically, attempting to appeal to his ego and simultaneously eradicate the sarcasm from my voice.
He paused and finally turned in his seat to scrutinize me, seemingly a bit astonished by my strange behavior. He turned back around just as suddenly.
“Alright, I’ll be there,” he huffed.
“Okay,” I squeaked. I mentally face-palmed myself. Just keep your mouth shut.
“I rather like you like this,” he commented offhandedly.
“Like what, sir?”
“Respectful…You’re much less troublesome.”
I snickered quietly, pleased that he was too absorbed in cyberspace to notice.
Oh, if he only knew.
I hid my smirk and attempted to walk at a normal speed to the bedroom door, reining in the urge to bolt out as fast as my legs would carry me.
“Oh, servant?”
I scowled at the nickname, desiring nothing more than to punch him in the face. Rearranging my facial expression into one that was significantly more pleasant, I faced him.
“Yes, sir?”
My lack of sincerity was lost on him as he asked, “Have you seen my phone anywhere?”
I controlled myself enough to not let my eyes widen. I shook my head. “No, sir,” I replied innocently.
He nodded his head and frowned as he thought of something. He scratched the back of his neck in confusion.
“Will that be all, sir?” I asked, desperately needing to get out of the room before I blurted out my entire plan.
He nodded again and returned to his desktop. As I left the room, I heard him mutter, “I wonder where I left it.”
I closed the door behind me, and all but sprinted down the hall to the elevator.
Aaron was waiting for me in the kitchens.
“I think we’re good,” I told him, careful not to make my slightly shaken resolve apparent.
*. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *.
“Everything’s ready?”
“As far as the food is concerned, yes.”
I let out a breath and gazed around the dining hall. The hall did not need any decoration; the classic and regal architecture was beautiful on its own. The room looked very similar to the ballroom where the last event was held but was clearly much smaller. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, and gold trimmings lined the cream walls. Rich red curtains framed the large windows on the right side of the hall. Across from the table hung an elegant and antique mirror. The dining table had some of the finest china already laid out for four people. A lovely bouquet of flowers rested at the center of the table, right below the chandelier.
A guilty feeling set in at the pit of my stomach, but I tried my best to brush it off. I told myself I was doing the right thing, what I wished had happened for me years ago. I was going to help these women, and in the process give Prince Harry what he deserved.
Aaron and I were wearing our servers’ tuxedos and leather dress shoes, looking as official as we possibly could. Thankfully, few of the staff knew of our plans, and those who did were either willing to support it or acted as though it was not even happening. I was grateful for my coworkers’ complacency. I didn’t need anyone tattling on me to management.
The few who volunteered to help were currently at the back of the manor, escorting each woman up to the dining hall. Aaron and I waited patiently.
The first woman entered shortly after we finished the dining hall preparations. Judging from her short brown hair and green eyes, I remembered her name was Emily. She wore an emerald green knee length dress that hugged her waist and then puffed out until it reached her knees. She was adorned with several jewels, much more than I could probably afford in a lifetime, as well as bejeweled heels that clacked as she stepped onto the marble floor of the hall.
She scrutinized the hall and walked to the dining table, glancing down and frowning. I could already guess what she was confused about.
Aaron walked over to her and offered to take her black coat and green clutch. He placed them in the coat closet while she sat down in one of the seats.
The next woman to arrive was the blonde, Olivia. She had decided to wear a shimmering gold floor-length dress. I tried to quiet my brain, which was already getting inspiration for another dress to create. I silently reminded myself of the last time I had been caught looking at a woman’s dress and how she definitely took it the wrong way. Her gold heels clicked on the marble and attracted Emily’s attention, who was beginning to appear even more confused by the second. I couldn’t blame her. Expecting to see a prince and being greeted by another woman would probably come as a shock.
Aaron took Olivia’s coat and bag as well. As Olivia made her way to the table, she paused, realizing that she was not the only woman in the room (besides me of course, but they couldn’t see through the disguise). They sized each other up before Olivia reluctantly took a seat. An awkward silence hung in the air between them, and Aaron and I were becoming quickly uncomfortable with the mounting tension.
The final woman to arrive was the one I was expecting problems from. Even when I had told her over the phone that I was calling on behalf of Prince Harry, she could not have been ruder. I had a sinking suspicion she shared Flee’s beliefs of superiority over any server. Catherine left her long black hair down and wore a striking red floor-length dress. She reminded of the evil queen from Snow White, beautiful in her own right but extremely frightening. Regal and terrifying would not even begin to describe this woman.
She handed her coat and purse to Aaron without him asking for it and walked to the table with an air of importance and arrogance, standing expectantly in front of one of the seats. She looked pointedly at me, and I fought to restrain from looking at her incredulously.
I followed her silent order, walking over to the chair and pulling it out for her to sit. She merely glanced at the other two women sitting around her before deciding that her ruby-painted fingernails were much more interesting to look at.
The tension in the room had increased tenfold, and I waited a few minutes for something to happen.
It inevitably did.
“Alright, I am not going to sit around and pretend this isn’t incredibly awkward,” Olivia, the blonde, began.
“Thank you for that statement of the obvious. Would you like to point out any other striking observations?” Catherine declared sarcastically, continuing to examine her fingernails.
“I think maybe you two have the wrong room,” Emily interjected.
That comment seemed to catch Catherine’s full attention, as her head snapped up to meet Emily’s stare so quickly even I was taken aback. The intensity of Catherine’s glare made me want to hide behind Aaron. Heaven help the person that upset that woman. Olivia glared at Emily as well, though she was not nearly as frightening.
“Maybe you two are in the wrong room,” Olivia criticized.
Catherine glanced between the both of them. “Clearly I would not be so stupid as to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“From what I’ve seen, I would not put it past you. Your eye makeup is fairly thick; maybe you couldn’t see where you were going,” Olivia retaliated.
“Oh snap,” I murmured.
Catherine gaped at her outraged while Emily tried to bite back a giggle.
“I bet you couldn’t even afford half of what I’m wearing you slag.”
“What does that mean?” I whispered to Aaron as the other woman gasped.
“Look who is so posh now! Watch your language, ma’am, or you will be mistaken for a slag,” Olivia refuted.
“Basically a slut,” Aaron answered me quietly.
“Damn,” I murmured. “Bitches be crazy.”
He chuckled a bit as Olivia and Catherine argued. “So are we supposed to just wait here?”
“I guess...at least until he shows up. I’m wondering when they’re going to figure out that Harry--”
“I cannot take this anymore,” Emily exclaimed, irritated. “I’m calling Harry and telling him to meet me elsewhere.”
Catherine and Olivia stopped their bickering immediately.
“I’m guessing now,” Aaron whispered to me.
I nodded. Here we go...
“I know you’re not speaking of my Harry,” Olivia sounded like she was convincing herself rather than the other two.
“I don’t really care who your Harry is, but my Harry was supposed to meet me here at seven o’clock for dinner.”
As far as I know, it’s illegal to own a person so what’s with these women and their possessiveness? I remarked bitterly to myself.
“How long do you reckon it’ll take for them to figure out?” Aaron muttered quietly.
“I thought it wouldn’t take them long, but I’m beginning to see that’s not the case,” I responded.
Catherine joined in on Olivia and Emily’s conversation. “Maybe you’re on the wrong floor. I’ve heard the servers’ floor is a few below this one.”
Emily glared at Catherine. “My Harry is no server.”
I rolled my eyes at these women. Gee, I wonder how many Harry’s live at Clarence House and have a personal servant call to invite a woman to a fancy dinner.
“My Harry is actually the Prince of Wales so I suggest you leave,” Catherine replied haughtily.
Finally!
Emily and Olivia narrowed their eyes at Catherine.
“The Harry I’m dating who invited me here is the Prince of Wales,” Olivia replied slowly.
“You both must be insane because I was invited here by Prince Harry of Wales,” Emily added.
“He’s mine.”
“No, he mine!”
“Stay away from him, he’s mine!”
And then they attacked each other.
What.
I watched in shock for a few moments as the women launched themselves across the table at one another, clawing at each other’s faces and pulling each other’s hair.
Aaron rushed to the table and hastily began picking up the china. “Not the china! It’s expensive!”
His shouting broke me out of my stunned silence, and as he took the dishes away from the crazy women, I could no longer contain myself.
“What is wrong with you people!”
They finally noticed my presence and paused. Looking at each other in surprise, they slowly took their hands off one another and took to standing on different sides of the table.
“Excuse me?” Catherine was the first to break the silence. She returned to her rude demeanor as though she had not just been about to tear out another woman’s throat.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I held out my hands, exasperated at their inability to see what was happening.
When they merely continued to stare at me, I burst out. “He’s cheating on all of you!”
Their eyes widened, and they glanced at each other before turning back to me. “But, still naively clinging to the idea that he would only choose you, you’re fighting each other! What is wrong with you? Have more self respect, ladies! Pull yourselves together!” I nearly shouted at them. Were they really willing to tear each other apart for a man?
There was a long pause before Emily responded meekly.
“What do you suggest we do then?”
“That’s up to you, but don’t take out your frustration on each other. He’s the enemy, not the women sitting around you.”
They looked at each other once again, this time smiling slightly.
“Blondie here has a nice right hook that I think would be beneficial,” Catherine added, rubbing her chin.
“Sorry about that,” Olivia apologized.
“Don’t worry. My nails weren’t exactly friendly to your face either,” Catherine pointed out.
They laughed softly and introduced themselves to each other.
What an unconventional but surprisingly effective way to make friends, I mused.
The women shared their stories with one another and realized that Harry had used the same tactics to pick up each of them. Although, admittedly, the fact that the prince was hitting on them in the first place had sparked their attention from the start. They ate the appetizers Aaron had prepared, repeatedly remarking how delicious they were. I seized this opportunity.
“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but this is the man who prepared all the food for today.” I dragged Aaron over to the table. He smiled, a bit embarrassed, as the women continued to compliment him.
“I must have you cater one of my events,” Catherine remarked.
“Here’s his card,” I said quickly, grabbing the three business cards I made for him last night and handing them to each woman. He had been telling me how much he wanted to be a real chef all week. I figured it was the least I could do for him.
“Excellent,” Catherine smiled, putting the card into her purse. “I will definitely be contacting you shortly.”
Aaron smiled at me gratefully.
“And one more thing,” I said, catching the ladies’ attention. “Prince Harry will actually be here shortly.” I glanced at my watch. “He should be arriving now actually. He’s under the impression he is supposed to be here for a business meeting.”
The women smirked.
“We’ll be taking care of business, alright.”
I heard footsteps approaching from outside the dining hall.
“Speak of the devil,” I muttered.
The doors opened, and I wish I had brought a camera. The look on Harry’s face when he saw the three women assembled at the table...
Priceless.
“What--” he started but was cut off by Olivia.
“We have something to discuss, Harry.”
I walked towards the door, Aaron following swiftly behind me.
Harry grabbed my arm forcefully as I passed him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his anger and surprise evident in his voice.
“It’s called justice, baby,” I smirked and tore my arm out of his grip. “Have fun,” I added, winking and sauntering out the door.
I heard shouts as Aaron shut the door behind us.
“Baby, I thought you understood we weren’t really in a relationship--” I heard Harry say in defense when he was cut off by a crash.
“Good thing I put away the expensive china,” Aaron remarked, smiling.
We laughed, and I quoted Harry’s own words as we walked back to our smaller, less extravagant dining hall.
“Revenge is sweet.”