Chapter 2
Jessica held her breath as she stood at the altar, waiting for the smokin’ hot stranger to join her.
Breathe, she reminded herself. It’s just a guy.
A very, very hot guy.
He was tall, and had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He wore slate grey dress pants and a button up white shirt. His blonde hair stood up on end, and was tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed. A dusting of facial hair graced his cheeks and chin, adding to the casual look.
He walked with a swagger, as if he belonged among the VIP photographers and press representatives.
Probably from a big paper, thought Jess. Maybe the New York Times, or the London Times. Or a magazine. Vogue?
His confidence lit up his being, and she could sense that he knew he was sexy. He continued to look at Jessica, and Jessica could feel his eyes take in her body. He knows just what he’s doing to me, she thought as she felt herself begin to tingle under his gaze. He knows that he’s fine as hell.
“There!” the pudgy man said to the handsome stranger, stopping him in his tracks. “There. Stand right where you are.”
The handsome man was a foot from her, and Jessica inhaled. She could smell that he was wearing expensive cologne. The scent was subtle and unique. Jessica stared down at her toes, trying to steady herself.
She could sense that he was still looking at her.
If I look up, I’m going to faint, she thought. She breathed in again.
“I don’t bite.” The voice in her ear was low and rich with an accent she couldn’t place. Jess felt her cheeks flush with more blood.
She glanced up. The man before her was smiling slightly, his eyes gleaming. “Unless you want me to,” he added.
She allowed her lips to rise in a smile.
“There,” the man said. “That’s better. You’re very beautiful.” He spoke in a low voice and as Jess listened, captivated by his deep blue eyes, she felt the rest of the room fade away. She was only vaguely aware that the pudgy photographer was circling around them, pointing a camera to take test shots, and that the lanky man was fitting a second lens onto his apparatus.
All she could sense was the man before her.
The lanky man stepped up.
“Miss?” he said. “Would you mind holding your hand up for just a second? Sir—could you put your hand up as well, as if you’re putting a ring on her finger?”
In a daze, Jess did as she was told. She held her hand up, and felt the handsome man’s hand reach up and touch her lightly. He held her hand, for just a moment, miming putting a ring onto her finger.
The two photographers went into a frenzy of activity, speaking in tense whispers to each other about the angles to try. The lanky one stood up on a pew and was immediately scolded by the pudgy one, who Jess was beginning to understand was the boss.
“Get off of there!” the pudgy photographer scolded, as if Lanky was his pet dog.
“But it will give me the best shot!” Lanky protested.
Pudgy shot back, “Yeah, and it will get us kicked out of here faster than you can say, ‘I Do’.”
Lanky grumbled something.
“Keep that pose up, just like that!” Pudgy instructed Jessica and her fellow model. “One more minute, we’ve almost got this figured out.”
Jess was happy to have the handsome man’s hands on hers for as long as necessary. She felt warmth spreading through her, emanating from the man’s hands.
“I’m Victor,” the man said softly as they posed. She felt slight pressure on her hands, and to her surprise he stroked her finger twice, softly. The gesture was unexpectedly intimate. She felt weak in the knees.
“What’s your name?” he asked
“Jess,” she said. “Jessica Lewis.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lewis,” Victor said. As Jess stood dumbfounded, Victor raised her hand to his mouth. She felt his lips touch the tops of her fingertips, just barely, as he placed a kiss on the top of her hand.
Jessica felt her heartbeat begin to dance in her chest. The situation felt so surreal. Only moments before, she’d been stressed about her job. All of a sudden, she found that her stresses had disappeared. She was standing face to face with a man she could have only imagined in her fantasies.
And they were standing at an altar.
Though Jessica had never been one to daydream about her wedding day, the sensation of standing across from the dreamy guy was completely wonderful.
Is this what it’s like? she wondered as Victor slowly lowered her hand. He continued to hold it, and hold her eyes with his. Is this what it’s like to marry the love of your life? Would the feeling be something like this?
“Good, good,” Pudgy said. “Now lean in, there,” he prompted Victor by touching his arm. “Lean into her a little bit.” Pudgy looked out at his assistant. “Are you getting this?”
Victor’s eyes continued to glitter with amusement as he leaned forward, towards Jess.
“What’s the lighting on the right like? Can you try crouching?” Pudgy asked his assistant.
Victor was no only inches away from her. Though Jess knew that he was only posing, she had the intense feeling that he was about to kiss her.
A wave of magnetic attraction coursed through her as she imagined the bliss of feeling his lips on hers.
This can’t be happening, she thought. I must be dreaming. I must be on the plane, flying high over the ocean. Any moment now, I’ll wake up and he’ll disappear.
She closed her eyes, and squeezed them shut.
Two things happened at once. She heard Victor laugh, a soft chuckle of amusement, as if he was well aware of the way his posing had affected her. And one of the photographers clapped his hands. The burst of sound was unexpected in the hushed, calm space, and Jess felt her shoulders jump up at the abrupt sound.
Her eyes popped open.
Victor stepped back, away from her.
“That’s a wrap!” Pudgy said, clapping once more. Then, remembering where they were, he stepped forward so that he was close to them. He lowered his voice to a whisper. Jess saw that his clapping had drawn attention. Several people in the area were now looking at their little cluster of activity.
“Thank you madame, thank you sir,” Pudgy said in a hoarse whisper. “I appreciate your services. We’ve got our angles figured out now, so you may…” he waved his hands, indicating that they could be on their way.
Jess felt rooted to the spot. She didn’t want the moment to be over. She didn’t want to face reality again.
She felt dazed, and unable to respond to the photographer’s prompts.
Victor stepped back.
She didn’t want him to go. As he stepped away, the sense of magnetic attraction that she had towards him became stronger. She didn’t want him to go.
The pudgy man was squinting at her badge.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “You don’t have cathedral access. You’re only a level three.”
Jess felt her pulse quicken. Damn it, she thought.
“I was just looking for the radiating chapel,” she said. Her voice came out breathy, and she fought to strengthen it. Get it together, she thought to herself. This is not the time to be swooning over strangers. You’re working. This could be your big break.
“The radiating chapel!” Pudgy said. “Honey, you’re not fooling me. You know as well as I do that this is the main chapel. You better get going before I call in security.”
“I only want to stay for a moment,” Jessica protested.
Pudgy raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on his hip, clearly not buying her bullshit. He knew that she wanted a chance at ceremony pictures. “Sure,” he said sarcastically. “And my name is King Richard the Third. Go on, get out of here.”
Jessica glanced at the lanky assistant. Now she knew what he must feel like when his boss spoke to him like he was a pet dog.
“Go!” Pudgy said again. He pointed towards the exit doors, far down the aisle.
Jessica sighed and looked around for Victor. Somehow, as she’d been getting busted, he had disappeared. A part of her was glad that he hadn't stuck around to witness her humiliation. But another part of her felt sad that he was gone.
Who was he? she wondered, as she retraced her steps down the aisle.
A quick glance behind her informed her that Pudgy was taking no chances. He’d hailed a security guard and was pointing in her direction.
Making sure that I actually leave, no doubt, she thought to herself grudgingly as she walked towards the double doors.
I’m going, I’m going. You don’t have to worry. She reached the doors and then turned and looked around the inner cathedral one more time. Again, Victor was nowhere in sight. But the security guard, arms folded across his chest, was watching her, daring her not to leave.
Don’t worry, Jessica thought. I won’t infringe on your precious VIP area. I’ll go find the damn radiating chapel.
She walked out to the same spot in the lobby which had so confused her only ten minutes earlier. As she stood looking from the left to the right, trying to decide which direction to go in, she couldn’t help but smile.
For some reason, the decision didn’t feel quite so intimidating.
She could still feel the sensation of Victor’s hands holding hers. The sensation of his lips on the back of her hand was fresh on her mind. Her outward smile was bolstered by an inward one as she remembered the way he’d looked at her and said, “You’re very beautiful”.
This whole trip is worth it, she thought, just because of that encounter. Even if I never see him again, I’ll always remember that moment, standing at the altar at St. Peter’s Basilica. The moment I felt like a Princess, marrying my Prince Charming.
She was delirious with happiness as she spun on her heel arbitrarily, and ended up facing one of the deep, dark hallways that yawned open on either side of the lobby area. She walked towards it, feeling completely happy.
Her step was light as she made her way down the nearly empty hallway. Just ten minutes earlier, it had been teaming with people. She saw one woman a few hundred feet ahead of her. The woman reached a door at the end of the hallway, pulled it open, and slipped inside.
Jessica sped up, her camera bag slapping against her side as she nearly jogged to reach the door that the woman had gone through. She caught the door before it could close, and made her way inside.
Once inside the smaller chapel area, Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. It was crowded with photographers and she knew that she’d chosen correctly.
She saw Trevor almost immediately, among the small crowd of reporters. He caught her eye and gave her a questioning look. Jessica began to make her way towards him so that she could explain that she’d gotten a bit turned around, and that her phone had died.
But before she could make it to him, a hush filled the room, and all heads turned towards the doorway that she had just entered through.
Jess stopped in her tracks as she turned to see what everyone was looking at. As she watched, Princess Alana stepped through the doors. The beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed Princess-to-be seemed to glide gracefully across the room. A dozen photographers trailed after her, and Jessica saw that Candice was among them.
Jess pulled her eyes away. I don’t have much time! she thought urgently as she began searching through her traveling camera bag.
She pulled out her trusty Canon and then continued searching until she found the lens that she wanted to use. I didn’t have time to test the light, she thought desperately, as she looked around the room. Other photographers were rushing to find the best position for snapping pictures. A coordinator was leading Princess Alana towards a wide, white stone bench on one side of the room.
Jessica looked to the window and then up to the ceiling to assess the light. She looked back at Alana. Her entourage was positioning her trailing gown so that it was hanging perfectly off of the bench, and flowing over the ground around her.
If I go with this lens, the shots will be safe, but boring, Jess thought, feeling one option inside of her bag. Her hand moved to the next contender. If I go with this one, there’s a chance the whites will be washed out. But the contrast could look freaking amazing.
It’s risky.
Her hand transitioned between the two lenses again, and finally she settled on the second. The risk is worth it, she thought. My pictures will be different than everyone else's. I’m going to try it.
The photoshoot lasted only fifteen minutes, and when it wrapped up, Jess felt as winded as if she’d just stepped off of a basketball court. She’d been up and down, crouching and standing on her tiptoes, and weaving between people, darting through empty holes in the crowd.
She wiped a hand over her brow as Trevor found her.
Alana was gliding out of the room and a buzz of chatter was building as every team consulted to see how the shoot had gone.
“What’d you think?” Trevor asked. “I almost thought you weren’t going to make it here on time. What happened to you?”
Jessica thought of the moment that she’d spent inside the cathedral. Somehow, the encounter felt too special, too intimate and private to bring up at that moment. I want to save it for myself, she thought. Whatever that magical moment was—I want it to be all mine.
“I went over to the wrong chapel,” she said, with a shrug.
“Seriously?” Trevor said, his annoyance clear. “Come on Jess! The itinerary says it so clearly—west chapel.”
Jess shrugged. Even Trevor’s condescending tone couldn't get her down. She rubbed the top of her hand, where Victor’s lips had been.
“Well, at least you made it. Do you think you got anything good?” Trevor asked.
“I hope so,” Jess said. She resisted the urge to take out her camera and look through the photographs. She only had a limited amount of battery life, and Jo would certainly fire her if her camera battery died in addition to her phone.
She’d packed a spare, but they still had to get through the sending off ceremony on the front steps of the cathedral, as well as the reception. Though they wouldn’t actually be allowed into the reception, Jo had made it clear that they would be stationed outside to get shots of the special couple as well as celebrities, politicians, and high society members from around the globe who were attending the wedding.
“How about you,” Jess asked. “Did you take good close-ups?”
Candice joined them as Trevor answered. “I think so,” he said. “It all happened so quick. And she seriously smiled way too much. But I caught her looking out the window, lifting up her skirt to walk in one, and I think that will be a shot Jo will eat up.”
“I caught her lifting up the hemline too,” Candice said with a serious nod. “The heavy skirts represent her responsibility. She’s lifting the heavy weight of her title. I think the symbolism is really going to be stunning.”
Jess fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Lets see what kind of updates we can get,” Trevor said, pulling out his phone. Unlike Jess’s his hadn't died.
Jess and Candice hovered over Trevor’s shoulders as he pulled up a recent news hour update. A reporter was standing on the streets outside of the cathedral, just beyond the private, invited-press only areas.
“This is Tanya Michaels, reporting live from London, UK, where Alana and Prince Mark will be wed later on in the afternoon. We’ve had quite a crowd here in front of Saint Peter’s Cathedral Basilica, as guests from all over the world arrive to wish the happy couple a joyful union.”
Jess lost interest in the video, and started to think about the next part of the day. The ceremony was scheduled from two to three, and the reception would be held across town.
“What time is cocktail hour?” she asked. “Four?”
“Shhh!” Commanded Trevor. “Jess, this newscast can tell us who is actually here. The guest list that Jo had was from two weeks ago. We don’t actually know who to look for. Pay attention—these are the rich and famous faces we want to photograph.”
Jess again fought against rolling her eyes as Trevor bossed her around. But she begrudgingly returned her eyes to the screen of his phone.
“...the Prince of Denmark, Victor Hansen,” the newscaster said, just as Victor walked down the sidewalk. Jess’s breath caught in her throat.
“What?” she exclaimed, a bit too loud.
Trevor turned over his shoulder.
“Whoa,” he said. “Don’t yell in my ear, Lewis. They said this guy’s the Prince of Denmark.”
Jess couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. There was Victor—her Victor—the Victor who had stood across the altar from her and called her beautiful. The Victor who had kissed her hand.
“I thought he was a journalist,” she murmured.
Candice laughed. “You thought the Prince of Denmark was a journalist? What—you saw him or something?”
Jess shook her head, not wanting to reveal the intimate moment just yet. “Never mind,” she said. “I just didn’t realize other royal people were going to be here.”
“Of course other royal people are here,” Candice said. Her tone was just as condescending as Trevor’s. “Jess, tell me you read the guest list. Jo divided up our targets. We each have twenty people to photograph.”
“You read the list, right Jess?” Trevor chimed in, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
Jess recalled skimming the list of guests. “I did,” she said, wanting to get the attention off of her so that she could process the information that she'd just received.
The fucking prince of Denmark.
A prince called me beautiful.
Her heart fluttered and she felt her hand again where he’d touched it. He doesn’t work for the New York Times… or the London Times. He doesn’t work for Vogue. That cocky swagger isn’t due to being a high ranking journalist. It comes from being fucking royalty.
Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach as she realized what this meant. If the man was a journalist, she would have a chance to see him again. Perhaps even talk to him again. But he was the prince of a foreign country. There’s no way I’m going to see him again, she realized.
She allowed this realization to settle in as she, Trevor, and Candice exited the cathedral and found Jo. Thankfully, Jo informed them that they were off duty until two thirty, when they would start preparing for the shots of the couple exiting the cathedral.
Jess couldn't wait to be off on her own so that she could think straight.
She also couldn’t wait to grab a coffee and some food, and it didn’t take her long to spot a café. As she sipped her drink, she thought about the way it had felt to stand on the altar with Victor.
By two-thirty she had rejoined her team and by three they were photographing Princess Alana and Prince Mark as they exited Saint Peters. Again, the whirlwind of activity left her as breathless as if she were participating in an athletic event.
But this time there was no chance to regroup afterwards. As soon as the just-married couple departed the grounds, teams began rushing towards vehicles so that they could race across town to the reception hall.
Jessica tried to watch for Victor among the crowd of departing guests as she rushed towards the vehicle that Jo had rented but she didn't spot him.
It’s just as well, she thought. What would I say, anyways, if I saw him? He’s a prince. I can’t just go up to him and strike up a conversation.
Face it Jess, she told herself. You’re never going to talk to him again.
“Come on, Jess!” Trevor yelled from the back seat of a car. Jess realized that, once again, she was holding her coworkers back.
Stop thinking about Victor, she told herself. It’s useless. And you have a job to do.
She hurried up and hopped into the backseat. As soon as she slammed the door shut Jo took off, driving towards the reception hall.