“I’d like to take it for the whole day, if possible. No, they are going to use it in the afternoon, but we’re going to need time to set everything up. That’s right. No, it doesn’t matter who’s there. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Yes, okay then, goodbye.” I sighed as I hung up and looked up toward the ceiling.

There was a time in my life when I couldn’t imagine anything more romantic than the idea of spreading out my things and working in a coffee shop, and if my childhood self could see me now, I would have exploded from excitement knowing one day I would get to sit in an actual Italian café and sip on coffee while I made a series of last-minute phone calls.

As I absentmindedly stirred the coffee, I thought about the stroke of luck I’d just had. A venue I had called several times the evening before had had a cancellation, and I had been able to secure the room for Antonio’s wedding. Of course, that was just the first step. After taking a breather, I was going to be back on the phone to set up an appointment to get flowers, look at decorations, and, of course, check out the cake.

Antonio had messaged me that morning and told me that I had his full permission to go crazy with the wedding, and to do things however I wanted. I didn’t understand how royalty worked or what they expected from their wedding, I just knew that I wanted to make it a day neither one of them would forget.

Perhaps if I impressed them enough, they would recommend me to others—other royalty even. I didn’t know for sure, but I could imagine that if someone was in a royal family, or at least the Prince of some nation, they would have connections to other princes and princesses.

As the day wore on, I was surprised at the fact I felt guilty, off and on. It wasn’t at all like me to feel this way after having an erotic dream, but there was something about the previous night’s fantasy that left me feeling unsettled. Perhaps it was because of the incredible detail of the dream, or perhaps it had to do with the fact I hadn’t yet met the bride. In fact, didn’t even know her name.

Though I had Antonio’s number, I didn’t want to bother him unnecessarily, but I found myself facing a surprising number of questions. This wasn’t my first wedding, by a long way, but there was something about Antonio that made me really want to impress him. Nothing would be better than seeing him walk into the ceremony and have his mind blown away by everything that I had lined up.

I wanted candles to adorn the walls, flowers scattered along the pews, and petals on the floor. I wanted there to be grand bouquets at the front of the room, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I wanted the room to be pure white, though I could sense that this man hadn’t necessarily kept himself for the marriage bed.

I wanted there to be a regal elegance to the room—one that the King and Queen would be proud to walk into as they supported their son in his union. And that was just the beginning. I had planned the reception hall to be just as elaborate, and I couldn’t wait to put my ideas to use inside the room.

The cake was to be glorious—pure white with gold trim and an exquisite design running throughout. I wanted the cake to capture the imagination of all the guests, and leave them feeling as if they were in a fairy-tale wedding. The more I planned, the more things came to mind, and the more I wanted to accomplish in the little time that I had.

Part of me wished I had met Antonio at the beginning of my trip. If I had, I would have had more than enough time to plan and achieve everything that was running through my mind. As it was, I found myself limited to what was available. The ideas running through my mind were boundless, but making them a reality was going to take a lot of work.

There just wasn’t the manpower available to do everything I wanted to do, and I was constantly asking him for further funds. It became so incessant that he gave me the number of his accountant, telling both us to take care of these things ourselves and leave him out of it. I had to admit, though I was pleased to have what appeared to be unlimited funding to pull off this wedding, I was slightly disappointed that I didn’t have a reason to communicate with the Prince directly.

I was looking for a reason to text him, simply because I liked the way his name looked when it flashed across my screen. Ignoring the feelings of guilt that would crop up every now and then, I would get flutters in my heart when my phone lit up and I saw it was him. Of course, he kept all the contact with me strictly wedding-related—as he should—but it didn’t matter to me.

All I wanted was to have some kind of interaction with him, however brief it may be. But, with the way things were coming together for the wedding, I was having less and less reason to contact him. That is, until another thought struck me.

I had a strange feeling in the back of my mind that I was forgetting something. It wasn’t at all like me to feel this way while I was working, and I blamed the fact I was incredibly attracted to the groom as the reason why I felt unsettled. However, when I finally realized what it was causing me to feel like that, I couldn’t get on my phone fast enough.

Instead of texting, I immediately tried to call him, but there was no answer. I thought about leaving a message, but this was just too pressing, so I tried once more. When I got his voicemail again, I hung up with an exasperated sigh. After a few seconds of hesitation, I grabbed my phone and flipped open the keypad.

Something’s come up that I need to discuss with you, call me as soon as you can.

I hit send and waited, hoping Antonio would get back to me quickly. It was forty-five minutes before he did, and by that time I was nearly frantic.

“Antonio! Yes, sorry to bother you like this. I’ve got most everything taken care of on this end, but there is one thing that I can’t do from here—the dress.” I laughed nervously, but I could hear by the way he let out air on his end that he wasn’t as amused by the situation as I thought he would be. There was a moment of silence, and I wondered if I ought to say something else when he spoke.

“Of course! What was I thinking? The dress is the most important part of the wedding, and here I am in England without you having anything to go on! I’ll tell you what, I’ll send my private jet back for you and fly you over here this afternoon. You’ll meet my bride and the two of you can go and get the dress fitted, all right?” His voice was cheerful, but I could hear that it was forced.

Something wasn’t right. I didn’t know what it was, but I had a feeling about this marriage that made me wonder if there was something going on behind the scenes. They certainly didn’t appear to be getting married for love, but what was it?

“Oh wow, um, okay. That would be great. I’ve never flown on a private jet before, but I’d love to. Where do I meet you?” I felt a mix of excitement and nerves at the prospect, but he didn’t seem worried about it.

“You’ll be met with a cab when you land, and they’ll bring you here. Don’t worry, you’ll be looked after, I’ll see you soon.” He didn’t stay on the line much longer, giving me only a few directions of who to look for and what to expect, and with that, he hung up.

I quickly gathered my things and stuffed them into my purse, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t believe the turn my career—and my life—had taken. Here I was, preparing to fly to England by private jet. It seemed unreal. I glanced over my shoulder at the café as I left, wondering once again what it would be like to live this kind of life all the time.

“Come on, Sasha, focus. You’re going to have to return to the real world soon enough, may as well live this up while you can.” I smiled as I muttered to myself, slipping out of the café and onto the sidewalk.

I was happy to postpone real life for as long as possible.