/Tristan's POV/  The Prince was annoyed, staring at the walls of the parking lot. He had no idea how long he had to stay in the car for Jane. She promised that she would be ready for him in ten minutes. It’s been almost thirty minutes since she said that. He should’ve never taken her word for it. 

Jane sagged against the nearest wall, takes huge, gulping breaths.    An

Tristan is laughing at his joke. She should be annoyed at that because Jane was freaking out. The Prince, on the other hand, was so chill and enjoying the day as if it was really their first date. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. What was she thinking? There was no way he would date her of all people in the world. Like the world was his canvas being who he is.     The bartender slid her coffee away from her. Maybe she had too much caffeine to drink to imagine such things.      “Glad you're treating this with all the seriousness it deserves” She dryly said, filling the silence.    “Would you rather have me curl up in a corner and sob to myself, clutching a bottle of whiskey?” Tristan raised his brow. “I mean I could, you know. I was in the drama club fo

As soon as their pictures walking out of the cafe are released in the press, the public goes wild. Most of them were still denial, pining for the young Prince as if he would date them. A large group of people already accepted that there’s a possibility of Jane being their new Queen. Their photos were plastered everywhere, their names trending on Twitter and photo edits going around. All in two days.   

After their lunch, the next two days are eventful for Jane. She was asked stupid invasive questions while serving drinks to the customer. That happened before only when they were tipsy and piss drunk, but the ones who asked her were neither. She assumed they must be reporters sneaking in so that they could get an exclusive. But as Tristan was away, they followed him instead. The bartender developed sympathy for the Prince as they captured him all his way to the airport.  Jane would have been annoyed by the reporters gracing the bar if she didn’t make extra tips by the end of the night. Chuck observed the whole ordeal quietly. Of course, he was not going to say anything because those customers bought money. Some of them who walked in definitely looked like they didn’t belong there and only wanted to see her work. As Jane thought it out loud, it sounded creepy.