The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 26 - New Year's Surprise

Samantha

New Year's Eve, and I was not thinking about partying or dancing or anything like that. Instead I was curled up on the couch in leggings and a sweater, still buzzy from my date with Harry a few days before.

I had no idea where this relationship was going, but after our romantic encounter, I was hooked. It didn't matter that he was engaged. I wanted to be with him, he wanted to be with me, and for now, that was enough. The details would take care of themselves...somehow.

There was a knock at the door, somewhat demanding. I thought about ignoring it but eventually opened the door. Randa stood in the hall outside, a skintight red dress hugging her curves. Her curls were scooped into an updo anchored with sparkly combs.

"Where are you going?" I asked, at the same time she said, "What are you doing?"

We both laughed, and I gave her a hug. "Obviously, whatever I'm doing is not nearly as exciting as what you are doing."

"Oh, don't bet on it," Randa said. "I've got an extra ticket to an awesome New Year's Eve bash at Clara Chelsea—all inclusive. Come with me!"

"Clara Chelsea?" I blinked at the name of the trendy club. "How did you ever afford that?"

She laughed. "Long story short—I made friends with a girl in La Plagne who bought them as a surprise for her boyfriend. Boyfriend proposed on Boxing Day and swept her off to Monaco for New Year's, and she was so excited—and more than a little bit drunk—that she gave them to me." Randa marched towards the closet. "Come on! It'll be fun!"

I trailed after her. "Wait a minute—she gave you the tickets over Christmas? And you're just now inviting me?"

"I knew if I asked you earlier, you would make excuses. So here I am. No excuses."

"But what if I had plans—"

"Sam, binge watching baking shows in your jim-jams on New Year's Eve and drinking hot chocolate is not a plan. It's a cop out. You can't let me walk into a posh place like Clara Chelsea by myself. So what are you going to wear?"

Her excitement was infectious and I gave in. "Well, I did make this dress, but I wasn't planning on wearing it so soon..."

I held the hanger up in front of me. I'd made the dress on a whim after spotting a few yards of gray-blue silk in the clearance bin at my favorite fabric store. The dye process hadn't worked properly on this batch so the color was uneven, fading between gray and light blue at odd intervals, but it made an interesting long bias-cut gown that evoked the old Hollywood style of the 1930's. While I was sewing it I knew it was impractical, considering my horse-filled life, but somewhere in the back of my mind was the thought that maybe...someday...there would be a time and a place where I could wear it...perhaps even with a certain prince at my side...

Randa took the dress away from me and looked in the closet again. "Yes. Absolutely. And what is this in here? A white capelet? Where do you get these things, girl?"

"Op shops, mostly," I admitted. "I like old things. Vintage things. Things that no one else would wear."

"Oh, you might be surprised what other people would wear," Randa said, helping me into the dress and zipping it up. "Let me do your hair and makeup and let's get out of here."

"I can do my own makeup—" I objected.

"Yes, and you'll look like you are headed to the barn. This is a party—a very glitzy party. I'm the one who reads the fashion mags. I'll do your face."

Randa pushed a dining chair in front of the mirror and I sat down, towel around my neck, while she went to work with brush and hair spray. My phone vibrated, and I took a quick peek while she rummaged through her bag, looking for suitable eye shadow.

H: Any plans?

Me: Surprise plans. Going out with Randa. You?

H: Same. Headed out with friends.

And Meg, I added mentally, but I didn't want to ruin my evening by thinking too much about it.

Me: Have fun!

H: You too. Till next time—and it better be soon.

Randa tugged my chin upwards and I closed my eyes while she piled on the eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. I refused her offer of false eyelashes, knowing that they would drive me crazy and be stuck on my cheek before the night was over.

"So," she said, "what do you think?"

I opened my eyes. She'd braided my front hair and wound it under a loose knot at the nape of my neck, the kind of messy bun I was always trying to do, although mine tended to look like bed-head while her version looked classy. I was way more made-up than I was used to, but I had to admit it looked good.

"You must have brought your own makeup," I said. "No way I have that much lipstick and girly-goo."

"Of course." Looking at the phone in my lap she said, "Is it Him?"

"Yeah," I said, hiding the screen.

"It's still going on then."

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Something's changed," Randa said, looking me over with a critical eye. "You saw him over the holidays, didn't you?"

I bit my lip. "Randa, I really can't talk about it."

She whipped the towel off my shoulders. "What? You think I'm going to tell on you? I was just going to say that whatever happened, it must have been good. You look all soft and dreamy when you think about him."

I couldn't hold back a smile. "Yeah. It was good."

"Well, remember me when you meet all those fabulous fancy people he can introduce you to. And who knows? Maybe we'll meet some fancy folks tonight at Clara Chelsea. Come on! Let's get going!"