I can wear that black dress with the white flowers on it. Or, no… That’s too much. That looks like I’m trying. Maybe jeans is good. No, I always wear jeans.

Paisley swallowed and wiped down the sides of the ketchup bottle. This was silly. Alex didn’t care what she wore to meet him for dinner that night. So why did she?

“Paisley.”

Yanked from her obsessive thoughts, Paisley looked up from where she wiped down table nine. The lunch crowd had left for the day, and it was only an old man eating soup and reading a paper at the counter. In the middle of the floor, Trish held the broom and dustpan. She nodded at the television screen.

Putting the damp cleaning cloth on the table, Paisley turned to follow Trish’s gaze. On TV, one of those entertainment news shows played.

“Up next,” a male anchor said, “We have the first interview from the set of Angie Spade’s new romcom. Also, who is Prince Alessandro’s new mystery woman?”

A picture of Alex and Paisley walking down the street appeared on the screen. Paisley’s jaw dropped.

The show went to commercial and Trish was next to Paisley in a heartbeat.

“What in the—” Paisley shook her head, but shock prevented her from getting another word out.

“When was that taken?” Trish asked.

“I guess—” Paisley blinked fast. Alex had been wearing a New York Yankees shirt in the picture. She remembered thinking how unexpected it looked on him… and good. “Last week,” she finished. “Right before he left for Belmonte.”

“He’s back tonight, right?”

Paisley nodded, her tongue heavy again. Trish knew all about what was happening with Alex and she was hooked on the story. Every day when Paisley came into work, the first thing Trish did was ask about Alex.

“That was weird,” Paisley murmured.

She frowned. How come she hadn’t noticed their picture was being taken? It would have been nice to have a heads up. She would have made sure not to slump so much.

“You guys look really good together.” Trish’s eyes sparkled.

“But we’re not--”

“I know.” Trish waved her hand. “Let me have my fantasy, though, okay? Following your story makes me feel like one of the couples from my romance novels has come to life. Look. It’s back on.”

The picture of Alex and Paisley returned, followed by another one of them laughing and walking even closer together. Paisley’s heart warmed. They did look kind of good together.

And was it just her, or did Alex look at her in a way that was a little intense for people who were just friends?

“Prince Alessandro’s new friend.” The male anchor returned and this time there was a female anchor with bright blonde hair and shiny white teeth with him. “Or more?” he suggested with a giant smile.

Paisley’s stomach twisted and her heart beat faster.

“They do look cozy,” the male anchor said. “What do you think, Darlene? Read this photo for us. What does your intuition say?”

The first picture of Alex and Paisley hovered in the corner of the screen. Paisley looked around Kung Fu Curry, feeling self-conscious. The kitchen staff was all the way in the back, though, and the old man still methodically ate his soup and read his paper.

“Here’s the thing, Mark.” Darlene held her hand up. “Whoever this girl is, she’s cute, for sure. But she looks so— I’m not sure how to put it… so plain. Look at him. He’s breathtaking, gorgeous, and she’s just… your typical girl next door.”

“It’s not like there’s anything wrong with being the girl next door,” Mark added.

“No! Of course not!” Darlene shook her head defensively. “I’m sure she’s a nice girl and she’s cute, she’s really cute.”

A lump formed in Paisley’s throat. The idea that Alex was out of her league had lingered in her head since the day they met, but hearing others put it so bluntly stung.

“You mean, if you saw him with Tessa Lopez or Amanda Taylor, you would think they’re a couple?”

Darlene chuckled. “Oh, yeah, that would be different.”

You bet Paisley was different from Tessa and Amanda. They were supermodels with tens of millions of followers on Instagram.

“But in this case you think the girl is just a friend?” Mark insisted.

“Yes, that’s my verdict. But hey, maybe I’m wrong.”

Trish grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, but it was too late, anyway. The story had ended and Mark and Darlene had moved on to judging another stranger.

“They’re idiots,” Trish said. “That show is so trashy.”

Paisley couldn’t meet Trish’s eyes. “I know.” She picked up the cleaning cloth and moved on to table ten.

“Really,” Trish said from behind Paisley. “I think you, guys, looked so nice together.”

“Yeah,” Paisley croaked. She shut her eyes. “It doesn’t matter how we look anyway. Alex isn’t my boyfriend.”

And I really need to get used to that.

Paisley finished cleaning the dining room with a heaviness in her stomach. She tried to forget about the entertainment show, but it wouldn’t leave her mind. Had Alex seen the pictures? Had people asked him about her? What had he said?

It made perfect sense that a gorgeous prince would never go for her.

Trish and Paisley finished up and the dinner waiters came in. Pulling her hair up under a baseball cap, she grabbed her tattered yellow backpack from the office, avoided Trish’s eyes once again while she said goodbye, and headed out.

In her jeans’ pocket, her phone buzzed. Lauren.

“Hey,” Paisley answered.

“Hey. Did you see… I mean, I just…”

Paisley could nearly hear Lauren holding her breath, trying to decide how best to approach the topic.

“Yeah, I saw the photos.” Paisley side-stepped to avoid a delivery boy jumping the curb on his bike.

“Crazy.”

“I know,” Paisley sighed. “I didn’t even know we were being photographed.”

“Paparazzi can be sneaky like that,” Lauren said grimly.

“I feel… weird, Lauren.”

“From seeing the photos?”

“Honestly? I even liked seeing the photos in a way. I don’t know. I guess I’m holding onto this fantasy of me and Alex one day getting together.”

“That’s not a fantasy,” Lauren chided. “You, guys, have only known each other for, like, a month and a half and you’re already really close. I don’t think he’d be hanging out with you so much if he didn’t have feelings for you.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Paisley answered glumly. “Men and women can be friends. It’s not unheard of.”

“Yeah, but Alex—”

“What?” Paisley stopped near the entrance to the subway.

“I just have this feeling about him. I think he likes you.”

Paisley twisted her lips and stared at a wad of gum on the sidewalk. “That’s not much for me to go on. Sorry.” She paused. “The show I saw the pictures on… they suggested I’m not beautiful enough to be Alex’s girlfriend.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lauren snarled. “You’re gorgeous.”

“That’s sweet.”

“You don’t believe me?” Lauren asked.

“I don’t think Alex believes that.” Paisley glanced at the subway. “I hear the train coming. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Let’s meet up tomorrow,” Lauren said quickly.

“I’ll text you. Bye.”

Paisley hung up. She’d lied about hearing the train. She just hadn’t been able to stand talking about her and Alex anymore. She was tired. Tired of not being able to stop thinking about him. Tired of wanting there to be more between them. Tired of worrying about what might happen if there was more.

She’d been so against having a famous boyfriend. But as it turned out, it wasn’t the complications public attention caused that bothered her… it was knowing she would never be good enough for Alex.

Paisley didn’t care that some talk show hosts thought she wasn’t on Alex’s level. But she cared that he might think the same. And she hated that feeling.

Bringing up Alex’s name on her phone, she sent him a text.

PAISLEY: Welcome back to NYC. I have to cancel dinner tonight. Sorry. I’m not feeling well.

She paused with her thumbs over the screen. Should she mention something about taking a rain check?

Right then, the thought of seeing Alex’s face caused even more pain than the thought of not getting to see it. Either way, it hurt. But maybe a break from all the craziness would make her feel better.

And so she didn’t add anything else. She turned her phone off and descended the steps into the subway.