A NIGHT WITH THE PRINCE OF DUBAI
I made lists at 2 am, the kind that never actually help but feel necessary anyway, weighing what I’d be walking back into against what I’d already survived walking away from.
When I finally did respond, I asked to meet in person, somewhere neutral again, not the palace, not my apartment, just a quiet corner of a park where regular people walked their dogs and complained about traffic, completely oblivious to the fact that a prince was sitting on a bench nearby in sunglasses and a baseball cap, trying his best to look like nobody in particular. He’d gotten better at the disguise thing since the last time, though he still stood too straight, still had that unmistakable stillness that comes fro