In Another Life

“Knock, knock!”

I pause in the middle of my make-up routine and lean away from the mirror in order to see into my room. Raina is standing in my bedroom doorway and I smile, coming further into my room so that she can hear me properly. “Hey, you made it.”

“As promised. And look,” She swings her hips back and forth so her skirt twirls around her thin frame. “Brand new dress included. Now tell me, am I properly dressed for what’s sure to be a celebrity studded polo match?”

I go over her sea foam green dress and white heels with an approving smile. “Yes, I think so. But really, what do I know? If I could, I’d go to this in trousers, but I have a feeling some people would have heart attacks.”

“Well we don’t want that, do we?” Raina throws her bag down onto the floor and perches herself on my bed, drawing a pillow close to her chest and hugging it tightly. “And I promise I won’t burp or make crude jokes, but I make no guarantees if a famous person approaches me.”

“Well luckily for you, I’m unknown, so I don’t think Madonna or Gwyneth Paltrow will be joining us anytime soon. Olivia is the one everyone flocks to and I’m just her escort,” I laugh and walk back into my bathroom.

Raina laughs herself and then sighs dramatically. “Do I have to wear a hat? Amanda seems to think that everyone wears hats to these things, so she’s made me bring one.”

“They do,” I call back as I finish with my eyeliner. “But I’m not wearing a hat. I wore one last time and it was annoying.” I move on to my eye shadow, expertly blending the colors with my fingertip. “I have something else to wear and quite frankly, I don’t care if I offend someone.”

“Tell me again how you managed to get roped back into this? Last I heard Olivia was able to get you out of having to attend this. Also, I’m borrowing this perfume. It smells amazing.”

“Go on then,” I answer, my tongue peeking out of my mouth as I brush on my mascara. “Liv did get me out of it by telling Heather that I had other plans that evening, but Heather called me going on and on about the ghastly amount of money she’d paid per person attending and since she had counted me and Liv, she'd be out a ridiculous amount of money if I didn't show up with a plus-one.”

Raina appears in the doorway as I peer at my finished product in the mirror closely. “How much did she spend?”

“She didn’t say,” I answer, blending my foundation a bit more at my throat. “But I felt so guilty that I said I’d make myself available and that I’d bring someone along to take Olivia’s place.”

“And here is where I saved your arse,” She laughs, moving back into my bedroom. “I am expecting loads of champagne and caviar by the buckets.”

“You don’t serve caviar in buckets,” I snort attractively as I pick up the last piece of my outfit and turn so that I can see the back of my hair in my mirror. I work carefully, gently arranging the pink flowers I’d bought this morning in my French twist. My plan was that my little spring of flowers would take the place of a hat, since I hated having to wear it last time. “But the food they serve at these things is absolutely amazing. I’ve no idea what half of it is, but it’s so good.”

“So it was wise of me to not eat lunch?” Raina jokes as I move out into my bedroom and towards my bureau top where I keep my perfumes.

I nod as I spray myself lightly and begin to put on my jewelry. “Sure. Just so long as you don’t stuff your pockets as we’re leaving, I think you’ll be good.”

“Too bad I don’t have pockets,” She muses thoughtfully, looking down at her dress. “I do have a bag though,” She brightens and then laughs at my shocked expression. “Relax, Bry. I might have been raised in Leeds, but I’m not that socially awkward.”

“I never said that,” I begin, but stop as a soft knock is heard from the front door. “That’ll be Matt, I expect.”

Raina climbs off of my bed and slips her shoes back on. “Matt?”

“Olivia’s driver,” I explain as I put my own shoes on and grab for my purse. “She’s lent him to me because she felt so badly about me having to go to this thing anyway.”

Raina stays behind in my bedroom to pin her hat into place while I move for the front door and let in our chauffer for the evening. I smile as I open my door, knowing that Matt is doing me a huge favor. “Hello,” I greet him politely. “I guess you’re not sick of seeing my face so soon again.”

Matt muffles a smile, but his eyes twinkle merrily anyway. “No, ma’am.”

“Please,” I look up at him as sternly as I can manage. “How many times have I told you to call me Bryn? No doubt Liv enjoys the formality, but it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Ready?” Raina appears next to me, hat in place. “Hi, you must be Matt. I’m Raina.”

Matt does a stiff bow and smiles before he gestures at the door. “We must be leaving if you would like to be on time, Miss Bryn.”

Wisely enough, I say nothing about his title for me. Instead, I nod and step out onto my front porch with Raina just behind me. They both walk down to the waiting Lincoln town car as I lock up my front door and pocket my keys. And then I carefully pick my way down the steps until I’m safely on the sidewalk.

I slide in next to Raina while Matt shuts the door behind me carefully. “Oh god,” I sigh loudly and turn to look at my friend. “I do not want to do this.”

“Maybe we can avoid Heather all night and she’ll forget she’s invited you,” Raina suggests with a mischievous smile, knowing well enough just how much I do not want to run into the socialite again. “Or we can both get really, really pissed and she’ll never invite you anywhere again because we’re such an embarrassment.”

The mental picture that she paints is an amusing one and I laugh despite my somber mood. “Can you imagine the look of horror on her face if we started dancing on the tables or something?”

Raina laughs loudly, showing off the white smile that attracts so many boys. “I reckon she has too much Botox in her forehead for that to happen.”



“Wait, who do we want to win again?” Raina asks, chewing thoughtfully on a strawberry.

I look at her over the rim of my champagne glass and shrug. “I’ve no idea. Is it almost over?”

“I don’t even think we’ve had the half-time yet, have we? It’s absolutely disgraceful how uninformed we are,” She giggles, washing her fruit down with a swig of alcohol. “No sign of her yet,” She adds on, peering into the crowd around us stealthily.

I laugh and shake my head. Truth be told, Raina and I have been sitting in plain sight the entire match and I have yet to be approached by anyone—namely Heather. And quite honestly, I am thankful for the uninterrupted time. I have no desire to mingle with these people, because we have nothing in common. I’m out of my element; Olivia should be the one here.

“Would it be terribly uncouth of me to go talk to that boy over there?” She asks eventually and I follow her head nod to the object of her affections.

I’ve not been blind to her covert glances all evening and while I don’t know exactly who the guy is, I can still hope that he’s man enough to be good to Raina. She’s my best friend and even though we’re surrounded by wealthy people, I have no qualms about unleashing my temper upon him, especially if I deem it to be necessary.

“Go up and talk to him if you want,” I grin into my glass again. “He’s been looking at you, too, if it makes you feel any better.”

She looks pleasantly surprised at this and she takes a few seconds to drain her champagne flute and fluff up her hair. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” I hide my amusement behind my hand and watch as she straightens out her skirt and starts to walk across the patio towards him.

My interest in the two quickly wanes once they start to talk amongst themselves and I amuse myself by doing what I was supposed to be doing the entire time—watching the polo match. Of course, due to my lack of focus, I have no idea what’s quite going on, but I catch up enough to be able to follow things.

A waiter floats by and replaces my alcohol and after I nod my thanks at him, disappears back into the crowd. My attention slips from the game and I find myself studying the people around me, going over their expensive clothes and shoes and wondering if I’ll ever make enough to ever afford an outfit so outrageously lavish.

“It’s good to see you’re not laughing by yourself this time,” A quiet voice states from my right.

I jump in my seat and turn to see Prince Harry looking at me with that infamous crooked smile on his lips. I flush upon recalling the first time we’d ever met and I duck my head to hide my embarrassment. Suddenly I can’t seem to find my tongue and I am forced to settle for gazing at him from under my eyelashes.

Harry is watching me closely and a brief flash of something darts across his face before he speaks again. “So you’ve figured out my secret identity.”

“It’s not much of a secret,” I mumble, though my lips curve upwards at his humor. “Not when all of England’s known about you since before birth.”

“Since conception, I believe.” He corrects me airily, his eyes twinkling merrily. “But I guess this calls for formal introductions, does it not?” Without waiting for my response, he plunges ahead fearlessly. “I’m Henry Charles Albert David of the house of Windsor, the Prince of Wales and all that, but I actually prefer to go by Harry. I like sports and cars and I like to eat—ahh, got you to smile, didn’t I?” He grins triumphantly. “That’s a point for me.”

“We’re keeping track of points now?” I question, openly grinning at him now.

He looks contemplative for a moment. “Only if I get to win. But if I happen to lose, no. We aren’t keeping track of points.”

“So you have to win?” I laugh as a familiar feeling washes over me. It’s not like I’m conversing with a member of the Royal family; it’s like I’m talking with an old friend—it’s the feeling I got speaking to him the first time around.

Harry nods, smiling widely. “Unless, of course, you’d like to win yourself. And in that case, I shall do the noble thing and allow you to win.”

“Well I think I’m alright, so you can win this,” I reach for my champagne flute and sip at the alcohol slowly, watching the prince from the corner of my eye.

“Fair enough then,” Harry sits back in Raina’s abandoned chair and then turns his head so he can see me properly. “Your turn for formal introductions.”

I nearly choke on my drink and as I set the glass down, I scramble to come up with a few interesting facts about myself. “I’m Bryn Alexander Matthews, though Bryn or Bry will do just nicely. And I don’t have a royal title, but I come from Essex. I love to paint and sculpt—really, I love art in general. I like cars too and music and films.”

He nods thoughtfully and then smiles. “So Bryn from Essex, I seem to remember you saying you weren’t very fond of sports. How is it that you’ve managed to find yourself at another polo match?”

“I never said I wasn’t fond of them,” I laugh, surprised at how quickly I’m warming up to him. “I believe I said I wasn’t the biggest fan of sports, but that I’m happy to sit through them.”

“But still,” He grins yet again and I can’t help but notice the way the corners of his eyes crinkle adorably or the ruddy red patches on his cheeks. “Your cousin must be an awful big fan of polo in order to come to both matches.”

I can’t decide if I’m thrilled that he’s managed to recall our conversation well enough to remember Olivia or if I’m perturbed that he has remembered our exchange. Had I said or done something horridly offensive so that it stuck out in his mind? I’m plagued by the sudden mental image of Harry laughing with William and Charles over a blundering error I’d committed unknowingly. Or even worse, my stomach drops a few inches, what if he’s told the Queen and they’ve all had a good chuckle over it!?

Reality sets back in suddenly and I realize that he’s waiting patiently for my answer. Embarrassment or not, I can’t keep him waiting. “My cousin isn’t here today; it’s just me and a friend.”

“I think you’re secretly a huge polo fan,” Harry teases me effortlessly, leaning closer so that I can hear him over the people talking all around us. “But you don’t want anyone to know about it. Don’t worry, Bryn. Your secret’s safe with me,” And he ends his sentence with a cheeky wink that lights my cheeks aflame.

“You’ve caught me,” I laugh, holding my hands up. “I’m a closet polo fan and I have been for years. You’re the first person to ever notice my mask of secrecy.”

“Mask of secrecy?” Harry bursts out laughing, completely unfazed by the amount of attention he’s attracting to himself. “I well like that. I’m going to slip that into a conversation now and see how quickly everyone else begins to use it.”

A bit spurned on by my sudden stroke of luck, I toss my head and smile at the prince. “Be sure you credit me.”

“Oh I will, Bryn. I’ll tell them a secret polo fan told it to me once at a polo match where everyone suddenly seemed to be more interested in my conversation than the actual match itself.” His eyes suddenly seem to be serious, like the jokes and the amusement have been sucked out completely.

So he hadn’t been unaware of the attention we’d been garnering so far. A weighty silence follows his words and I hasten to bring back the comfortable atmosphere that’d been hanging around us earlier.

“Probably because they only wanted in on our conversation, so that they could hear our phrases and take the credit for their own,” I blurt out before I have a proper chance to reason through my words.

I cringe to myself, knowing that I could most likely come across as childish because I might be taking the joke a little too far. But I’ve no other way to bring back the smile on his face and I hate to see how somber his eyes have grown under the weight of the publics’ opinions.

Harry’s face lights up in a toothy smile and he throws his head back and laughs merrily. Secretly, I draw a sigh of relief, thankful that he didn’t write me off as being dodgy. “It’s so simple and brilliant. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit, treading carefully now. “But I think this is a point for me.”

Again, he laughs, shaking his head a bit. “I guess it is. So we’re tied now, which just means that we have to bump into each other again at another polo match so that I can win.”

My cheeks flame and I bite down on my lower lip as I duck my head. “I guess you will, Harry.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever said his name aloud and on the inside, I’m freaking out. What if he’d rather I called him His Royal Highness or Sir instead? Is it too forward of me to say his name like we were on a first-name basis already?

He stands just as I hear Raina’s familiar laugh coming from somewhere behind me. “I hope to see you at the next polo match, Bryn.”

“I hope so too,” I reply quietly, quite shocked to come to the realization that I meant every single word. When had I become so willing to sit through a boring sporting event just to see a guy?

The voice in my head pipes up politely and reminds me that this isn’t just any boy that I’m willing to jump through the proverbial hoops to see. This is a prince, this is what every little girl (and even some grown women) dream of, isn’t it? For Prince Charming to come thundering in on a white horse and for him to sweep her off her feet and for the both of them to live happily ever after in a castle in the hills.

Accepting the fact that Harry was riding a polo pony and he was making fun of me, instead of showering me with compliments and sweet nothings, and the fact that I don’t really believe that fairytales exist in this day and age, it’s practically the same thing as a child’s picture book, right?

“Well duty calls,” Harry announces quietly, glancing over my head at someone behind me. “I’ll see you around, Bryn.”

I smile up at him and offer him a shy wave before he turns around and disappears in the crowd. For a short moment, I stare at the spot where he’s vanished and wonder if I’d just daydreamed our encounter up on my own.

I mean, how many girls can say that they’ve had a prince actively seek them out twice just to have conversations with them? It has to mean something, right?

But then the rational part of me reminds me that maybe he was just being polite, that maybe my overly-romantic side was taking over and I was deluding myself into thinking that I might possibly be developing feelings for Harry. Maybe I wasn’t as grown-up as I’d imagined myself to be—I mean, I was still secretly seeing that castle in the clouds.

And he had totally ignored me at that cancer benefit dinner. Doesn’t that mean something? Of course it means something. It means he was too busy attending to his princely duties to bother with an awkward, goofy girl from Essex. It means I’m over-thinking this entire situation completely.

“I didn’t think you liked polo that much.”

I jerk back to reality and turn to my right to see Raina back in her seat with a fresh flute of champagne in her grasp. “What?” I ask intelligibly.

She smiles, the dimples in her cheeks appearing. “You’re just very focused on this game—I didn’t ever know you were this interested in polo. You were just… intense.”

“Oh,” My voice is soft as I shrug my bare shoulders carelessly. “I was just thinking. I really wasn’t even focused on the game at all.”

“Thinking about?” Raina prods me on, knowing me well enough to realize that I’ll reveal my thoughts eventually. I’m an open book in that aspect.

I shrug my shoulders again and reach for my own drink, even though it most likely has grown warm in the summer sun. “My life, my future—just things like that.”

“That’s a bit of a heavy subject for a polo match, don’t you think?” Raina teases me lightly as she leans back in her chair and tilts her hat back so that the sun begins to heat her face. “I mean, most girls are busy chasing after boys or getting pissed. And here’s little Bry, pondering the ways of the world and the meaning of her life.”

I catch the joking tone in her words and even though I know that there’s a gap between us, I still kick my leg in her general direction. Of course I miss and this just makes Raina’s smile widen, but I felt it necessary. “You’re just jealous that you’re not as cultured and well-rounded.”

“Naturally,” Raina laughs as the crowd begins to roar for a point scored out on the field.

A comfortable silence descends upon the two of us. Raina spends her time drowsily lying about in the sun while I unconsciously begin to scan the crowds for a certain red-haired prince. Trying to find him is just about an impossible task given the vast amount of people milling about this place.

But once I spy his bright hair in the tent next to my own, a noticeable shiver races over my body. And I’m well aware of the way my mouth stretches up into a wide grin, especially when our eyes meet and he winks sneakily before turning back to his conversation.