Jane gaped as those words sank in. Tristan's mother wanted to see her. That's the worst thing she heard in a while. It scared her shitless because she puked on the Queens expensive gown. As she thought about the incident, it made her shiver. What was she thinking?
A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead as those words sank in. What did the Queen want to talk about? Several thousand scenarios kept running through her mind. The bartender was sure that it had everything to do with the previous night incident. Her grip tightened on the seat.
/Tristan’s POV/“Now, with your talk with my mother is out of the way? Let’s get down to business.” He stared at Jane.
Jane glared at the person in front of her.Florence looked prim and proper, straight out of a photoshoot with her velvet full-sleeved top and flared jeans. Her glossy locks lifted on the window and with those ridiculous w
James asked them to settle down while he did his research. Whatever that meant. Jane hated the guy, but he’s useful. He had a vast knowledge about media and how they function. Not to mention, he started out as a reporter before making it big. That’s impressive. The only thing the bartender didn’t understand was his disdain towards her.
Suddenly Jane felt her throat dry all of a sudden. What did the Prince decide? Peeking at her nightstand, she noticed that the bottle was empty. Every single time. Why didn’t she take the effort and fill it? With a sigh, she stood up; phone clutched against her ear. The soft breath of Tristan’s could be heard from the other side of the phone.
Jane sighed for what seemed like umpteenth time that day. Her schedule was so messed up that she had no idea how to balance everything. Taking a deep breath, the bartender pulled her bag and sunglasses (the camera flashes are harsh on her sensitive eyes) before walking out of the apartment. She'll think on the way.
Florence grinned, her skin almost glowing under the sharp sunlight. Apart from that, she had a different glow on her face. She was still holding onto Tristan, staring at him with her narrowed eyes. Just then, the flashes got intense, almost blinding. The paps started cheering the louder, their voice alerting the general public.
The Queen had a blank face. She was elegantly sat on the couch in what seemed like Jane’s lifetime cheque for a gown. Unlike before her hair was tied in a neat bun, not a stray strand. It’s impressive. Then again she must have had like top hairdressers at her disposal being a Royal and all.