Samantha
Randa and I were just getting the ponies loaded in the trailer, and I was looking forward to finally getting something to eat. My back pocket was crammed with bank notes and I'd exchanged phone numbers with several of the grooms and a couple of the trainers, so I had high hopes of getting more work in the polo yard. Aside from knocking the prince on his arse and asking him out, it had been a great day.
I was trying my best to forget about the prince part.
An older man, maybe late 30's, touched my arm. "Are you Samantha? The Canadian groom from the riding school?"
His dusty boots and jeans smeared with horse slobber marked him as another denizen of the polo yard. Thinking he might have come to offer me some work, I gave him a smile. "Sure am." I held out a hand.
He did not shake my hand, but slipped a folded paper into it. With a brief nod, he turned away.
"What did he want?" Randa asked, latching the trailer doors.
"I dunno. He gave me this." I showed her the note.
"Maybe it's his phone number?" she guessed. "Did you recognize him?"
"No, I don't think I saw him today."
I unfolded the note, and Randa peeked over my shoulder to read it with me.
Samantha-can we speak a moment in private? Box 7A. Discretion, please? H.
I had no idea what it meant, but Randa gasped.
"It's from him! H—" she looked around and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Prince Harry!"
"Why? What does he want?" I asked, and then I said, "I'm in trouble, aren't I? For knocking him down and asking him out. Is some protocol guy going to give me a going-over?"
She shook her head. "I doubt it. They don't do things like that unless you're the president or something, or you sell the photos to the media. 'Discretion, please?' Sounds like he just wants to talk to you. In private," she said, and giggled.
"You think he wants to offer me a job? As a groom?"
Randa snorted and shook her head. "Sam, he has people to do that for him. He took a chance on sending this to you. He wants to talk to you. So go talk."
"Alone?"
She laughed. "Yeah. I don't think he wants me along for the ride."
"But we were just getting ready to leave."
Randa shrugged. "I'll go see if there are any of those fancy canapés left in the clubhouse and fill us a plate. When you get back, we'll call a taxi. And go get a real meal. And beer. Plenty of beer."
"Are you sure?"
I wanted her to tell me no, so I had an excuse not to go and talk to the prince. Talk to the prince! Just thinking the words was ruffling my stomach. I had no idea what I would say to someone like him after I'd acted like such an idiot earlier. Hadn't I already proved that I was not to be trusted with someone that important?
"You're never going to get another chance like this, and if you don't go you'll always regret it. Go on." Randa gave me a playful shove. "Just talk to him like a normal guy, like you did earlier. Only not so outspoken, okay? And don't touch him."
I drew in a deep breath and blew it out nervously. "I don't think I have to worry about that."
Not being outspoken, though? That would be a lot more difficult.