Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 7
I didn’t bother to follow him and instead sat on the couch to continue angrily searching through the mail. There was one last envelope I didn’t open. I remembered because it had a different texture from the rest of the envelopes. “Stupid piece-of-shit,” I mumbled to myself as I pulled out the shiny, burgundy envelope. My angry mumbles came to a stop as I realized that this-this… this was an interview request. By the British Royal Household. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! They got back to me!
I looked up from the letter and began fanning myself as I pulled out my phone to check my email. I saw in the letter that they also emailed scheduling a time for the interview. I wanted to get this done as soon as possible. I had so much time on my hands I scheduled the interview for tomorrow morning at 9 AM.
The frustration that I felt earlier from Ezra’s f----d up decision was replaced with gratitude as I replied to the email they sent me. It was the same letter as the mailed copy.
“Well, considering all things, our sources have told us you recently had relations and an altercation with Anais Moretti. Is that true,”
I heard a female talk show host suddenly challenge. I completely forgot that the TV was even on. This is exactly why the bill is as high as it is now because he keeps the TV on all day. “Where the hell did Ezra put the remote,” I murmured to myself as I looked on either side of my hips for the controller.
“Pardon?” A very rich yet silky voice questioned. The deepness of his voice strangely commanded my attention, and somehow I was no longer looking for the remote anymore. As if my brain wanted to match a face to the voice, I snapped my head to the TV screen to see that the satisfying voice belonged to a man I wouldn’t even give a second glance to.
Oh hell, he was a White guy. Actually, he was a prince based on his name on the screen; Vincent, ‘Prince of Wales’. Was this what buddy looked like? I somewhat knew of Britain’s Royal Family, but I didn’t know the King’s son looked like that. He looked like one of those surfers from California with this combed-back blonde hairstyle and tanned skin. As cold as this stupid country was, I would’ve expected dude to be as pale as white-out.
To be fair, he was okay though. I always heard the store clerks raving about him, but I never cared to see why. And now that I’m looking at him, I still didn’t see why. His face to me screamed, ‘I’m an a-----e, I can do whatever I want’. And honestly, I wouldn’t be shocked if he was a closet-racist. I heard from some Afro-Brits that they believed the Royal Family might be racist because the previous King removed his youngest son’s title or something like that. Either way, those store clerks were going crazy over this man for nothing. His only redeeming factor was that he had a pleasant voice.
I watched as he suddenly chuckled, more to himself, at something the host mentioned. He was definitely older than Ezra’s 24 years. “I can assure you that any rumors that woman is saying about me are all lies. We did nothing,” he assured, his forehead wrinkling as he raised his neat, dark brows. “Taliah, listen, Love. I’m in search of my wife right now.” His words came out like butter. “She’s probably watching this interview as we speak, not knowing that she and I are meant to be, and yet, here you here, blocking our blessings, aye.” He contended, sounding sure of himself. Yo, he was so melodramatic! I could easily tell he wanted to change the topic, proving to me further that this motherfucker was lying.
“He’s lying. He did something with sis. I know it,” I commented, shaking my head at his denial. I was acting like this was a reality TV show. “He f----d her right before coming to the interview, next case,” I shouted the last part. I finally pulled away from the TV and gotten up to turn it off.
The very next morning, was my phone interview. I nearly had to choke Ezra’s ass to turn down his d--n NY playlist. The interviewer already knew I was American by my accent, I didn’t need her to hear Ezra’s music and taint my chances. As an immigrant in England, there weren’t many places I could work, but I knew that as a staff member of the Royal Household, I could get a work visa under their sponsorship.