“And then she just left the room,” I mutter, still stunned. “She didn’t care that I have zero experience with anything like setting up a museum, or even that it might not want to do it.”

Tessa chuckles and twirls a hunk of my dark blonde hair around the curling iron. “But you do want it.”

She’s right. I do. The second the queen made the non-offer, it was something I wanted with my whole heart and soul. Still … “I don’t have any experience or training.”

“You spent the bulk of your childhood in museums and antique stores.”

“But I don’t have any experience or training in curating a freakin’ museum!”

“You know what works and what doesn’t. Besides, you’re already lusting over those Lunn pieces and this is the best way to make sure you get to spend as much time as you can with them.”

She’s right and the thought is tempting, but if I do it, I know I’ll fall in love with the final project and walking away from it will break my heart.

“Plus, there’s the bonus of spending all that time with an honest to goodness Prince.”

“Who happens to be a first-class jackass.”

Tessa shrugs, the movement tugs my hair. “Most are. What I want to know is he as cute as he looks in his pictures.”

I flash back to my instant reaction to him and swallow. If Tessa knew about that … “He’s handsome enough, I guess.”

“Alexis Thane.” Tessa tosses the hot curling iron onto the vanity and uses her hold on my hair to tip my head back until she’s looking down on my face.

Her eyes narrow. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”

I jerk free of her grasp. “I thought he was hot for, like, a millisecond. Then his personality hit me like a Mack truck and I changed my mind. Trust me the idea of spending even a minute in his company is intolerable.”

“Uh huh,” Tessa picks the curling iron up and applies it to another strand of my hair.

“Seriously. Not only did he manhandle me after questioning my skills, he has zero sense of humor. I can’t be around serious people, you know that. It’s why I took a chance with my own consulting business rather than working for someone else.”

The few people who’d been willing to hire me had been stuffed shirts.

“Your jokes are an acquired taste.”

“Most people at least pretend to be amused…”

“Sure, you have.” A hint of sarcasm colors Tessa’s words. “You know what they say about the line between love and hate.”

I ignore her. I look in the mirror. I’m wearing so much makeup, my reflection barely bears a passing resemblance to me.

“Speaking of things I don’t want to do, tell me – how did I get talked into doing this again?”

“Because you know it’s a good cause.”

“I’d rather just write a check.” Though it would have to be a small one. A recent glance at my bank balance revealed just how badly my business needed this consulting job. That same low balance is going to make walking away from this museum gig even more difficult.

“You’re also doing it because you love me and know that I feel like crap.”

Even though Tess did look better than she had when I left her earlier today, she wasn’t in peak condition. She moved slow, like every joint in her body ached, and her skin was pale which highlighted her hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes.

“Even sick, you’d still be the prettiest woman.”

“Oh sweetie,” Tessa pulled the plug on the curling iron and wrapped one arm around my shoulders in an awkward hug. “You’re a doll for saying so, but I still have stomach cramps and I just don’t think I can sit through both the auction and a dinner date. And it’s not fair to ask a guy to shell out a wad of cash only to watch me run to the bathroom every five minutes.”

Her stomach chose that moment to emit a loud complaint that made me wince while Tessa closed her eyes and took deep breaths.

Tessa’s younger brother suffered from spina bifida and Tessa was passionate about finding a cure. Everywhere we went, she organized an auction that consisted of both guys and gals and took place in whatever hotel we happened to be staying in.

Whoever placed the winning bid, took the person up for auction out for a nice night on the town.

It had turned into a great deal both for the charity, but also for the hotels and Tessa. Most of the auctions brought in about 20 grand for the organization, everybody involved drank lots which the hotel loved, and Tessa met all sort of wealthy people.

Tonight, I’m standing in for Tessa. Which is why she’d done my hair and make-up and poured me into a slinky red dress that she’d ordered from a local boutique.

Tessa swallows and gathers her composure. She really doesn’t look well. I wish she’d see a doctor.

She looks at the clock on her cell phone. “Get your shoes on. It’s time to meet your prince.”

I slide my feet into glittery silver high heeled sandals Tessa got me and slowly pick my way across the room. I catch a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror and take a split moment to admire the magic Tessa has managed – somehow – to weave over me.

I don’t look like me. I look better.

“He’s not my prince.” I protest. “In fact, he’s the last prince I’d want to be mine.”

Still, I’m pleased that at least this time, I’m looking my best.