Lisanna Moore's P. O. V

Stepping onto my designated office floor, a fresh wave of anticipation fills me as soon as my high heel clad feet touch the shiny marble floors. Head held high and the nape of my neck feeling a bit too pinched because of the tight bun I had worked onto the back of my head, I pass by numerous coworkers who seem to be on their best behaviour.

It's been four days since I was last told I could potentially have a chance to not only secure my job but also have that promotion I worked hard for. Each and every hour that passed from that day to just a little before last night had me going stir crazy from what project I'd be getting, and finally at eight PM last night, I got an email that a client had been selected for me. No further details hinting to who my client would be or what my task with that person would be other than the obvious cleaning up of their most probably ruined reputation by some stunt they've pulled in the public. Instead it informed me of one specific sentence that has been running through my head like a stuck record;

'Meet me sharp at 1:30 PM tomorrow. I have a client that has been selected for you.'

Now all I have to do is wait the day away till just after lunch so that I can finally give in to the gnawing curiosity and find out who my client is and how much of a tremendous project this will turn out to be.

Putting on my same old professional facade, I pass by colleagues with a few fake smiles but mostly real ones before I reach the sanctuary of my office, opening the door and only to come short at the sight of someone already perched in the one seater sofa that's crammed in place in front of my office desk.

Startling red hair stacked high on the woman's in a complicated pony tail that only she could do as she turns her head at the sound of my entrance and passes me a beaming smile, which I hesitantly return. Her pale skin looks almost sickly and the deep bags under her full brown eyes create a striking contrast against the upbeat persona she has as she tries to stand up but I wave her off with a wave of my hand, hurrying over to her and making sure she's comfortable. I can already tell her smile has turned into a scowl as I fan about her, passing her a pillow I have stacked in my office on days when my back starts to ache from the constant sitting throughout the day.

"I'm pregnant, not dying, you know?" Comes the woman's airy voice, a pout evident on her painted lips while I settle myself in my own chair with a grin on my face.

"I know, but you look like shit," I joke somewhat, the blunt tone causing her to smile instead of getting offended.

"That's what happens when you're up the entire night with morning sickness, which only extends to random bursts during the day." She informs me to which I nod in understanding.

"You know you can take a few days off right Katy? No one's going to bite your head off." This time I'm the one relaying facts to her, but I'm greeted with a shake of her head, her scarlet hair flying about as loose strands stick up weirdly.

"I'd rather push on now and then be at peace with my maternity leave after I give birth," Katy murmurs wistfully before a sudden gleam enters her eyes, "Forget about that. I have juicy gossip."

Unable to help myself even though I'd like to be a moral warrior and dispel all sorts of vices, I still fall into deep curiosity when it comes to juicy tidbits of information, wanting to know what's up and coming although I really should stop. Nothing good comes out of a gossiping session, especially when it revolves around someone. But I just can't help it. I'm too nosy.

Oh well. I'll just give extra money to the local charity that we have here. That'll make me feel better about myself and help out a worthy cause, of course.

"Well, spill. I don't have all day," I say eagerly, sliding into my worn down office chair that has the outline of my behind embossed in it from me sitting on it for so long and for lengthy periods of time. I hurriedly flip the lid of my laptop open and turn it on, ready to look professional and like I'm actually doing something just in case someone barges in mad catches me red-handed being so lax.

I mean it's not like I have anything to do but no one's going to listen to that. Nope. They'll just slap me on the wrist once again and admonish me for something else that isn't my fault. I'm still a bit bitter from everything.

"We have a new client coming in," the woman in front of me says in a singsong voice while I frown at her from over my laptop. We have clients all the time. What's so special about a client coming in? Voicing my questions with a frown, "We're a PR firm, Katy. A pretty famous one which entails getting A list celebrities here and there."

I'm greeted with an eye roll as Katy places a hand on her bump and flicks a strand of red hair over her shoulder, "You've seen the news, haven't you? I mean, if you haven't you really need to get your head screwed on straight." She mutters while I raise a single brow at her. With slow pointed movements, I grab the remote control from my drawer and switch on the small television I have placed in the office. As soon as the box comes to life with a bright light, the news of the month if not the year comes up with a woman's delicate voice rambling over the current events. The same thing everyone's been glued to for the passed few days, even though it's recycled news with no fresh sources to give us updates.

I've been hooked about it much like nearly every other person in the country.

How couldn't one be?

Everyone expected this weeks Monday morning to be the same monotonous affair. Raging hangovers for some after partying on a Sunday night, even though they know they'll be regretting it the next day and is a bad idea overall. Others like me nearly in tears at the thought of waking up bright and early to head to work and get stuck in the same routine, wishing for the week to end before it even began. It's sad, really.

But oh no. That Monday morning turned out to be something that the country can never forget so easily. When I mentioned it being the news of the year, I wasn't quite exaggerating. That's what happens when the apparent ruling elite gets exposed in something that well, we won't say it's a surprise because they're the royal family, but oh boy is it enough to make headlines.

Our beloved royal family comprising King Francis and Queen Juliet being involved in the scandals of all scandals. I mean, the royal family is always in the limelight considering how the King and Queen are in their early sixties and yet no heir is known. It was speculated among the tabloids that the Queen was infertile and unable to have kids and hence, left the King with no son or daughter to take over the throne. Of course, people in this land hardly look to men in times of infertility and always presume the woman to be the 'issue.'

Everyone was ready for some distant cousins of the King to be next in line to the throne upon the death of the King. Even Parliament was getting involved and ready for the changes when the King was to reach his demise even though he's currently in perfect health. The plot twist in the story, however, results from an insider in the castle releasing the news that has the nation coming to a standstill.

"Do you really believe it? That the King has an illegitimate son?" I ask quietly, not sure whether I want to believe everything that's going on in the news right now. Pondering over the entirety of the situation.

A loud scoff breaks me from my reverie as Katy sits straighter in her chair, leaning as forward as her pregnant stomach allows her to. "They have pictures of the man! A twenty-eight-year-old hunk of a man that managed to start up his business from scratch and is now like loaded without the help of his father."

I smile at the eagerness she speaks with, letting out a short laugh at her enthusiasm, "He's your long lost brother, right? Feeding you this information." The woman doesn't take too kindly to my teasing as she wags a finger in my face, her well practised 'mom' look now taking over her features which is a common scowl to everyone else.

"I know people who know people that confirm what's going on," I don't oppose the gleam she has in her eyes since Katy does have very good contacts that get us very good information at times, "I also have news that the new heir to the throne is very much single." She announces while doing a rather weird shimmy with her shoulders.

"Honey. You're engaged and six months pregnant. You're not getting any side action and I'll be the first to name and shame your cheating ass." I say affirmatively, but with a joking flare. Everyone knows Katy is madly in love with her fiancé and the both of them act like they're in of some damn fairytale with the whole love at first sight thing they've had going on. However, cheating is a rather touchy subject for me, I will admit.

"Trust me. I already feel like I'm nine months pregnant and about to pop this baby out at any moment. I am in no mood at all to get knocked about when I'm clearly knocked up. You should see the state Nick is in. He's already whining that he's suffering from the lack of sex. The piece of shit. Maybe he should have the pregnancy next time." I stay silent throughout her entire babbling, merely watching on in amusement as her hormones rage on and anger shines visibly in her eyes before she glances over at me and calms down slightly.

"I'm sure Nick will be delighted to hear you're already eager for another child," I commend offhandedly, which grants me another derisive snort.

"Look! You've managed to distract me with all nonsense. I was talking about a new client," Katy chirps excitedly to which I motion for her to carry on, "Its him! The prince or whatever he is! Oh my God. Can you believe it? I mean, I know we're a well-known firm but the actual ducking prince. How cool would it be for the company?"

"Wait. Wait. Wait," I interrupt the rambling woman with one hand poised in the air, "The prince? The one that's on the news right now. That guy?" I question as I turn my palm towards the glowing television screen with my finger pointed directly at the hot topic of the season.

"The very one." She says solemnly, but I know her better than that.

"How sure are you? Passing rumour sure or word from the head office sure?" I question with narrowed eyes, wanting to know how much I could take heed of this.

If what she's heard is true. This entire ordeal will be huge for us. Hell, huge is an understatement. If this is pulled off correctly and we manage everything perfectly surrounding this scenario, we'd shoot up to the top PR firm in the country and that in its own right is an amazing feat.

"Annie mumbled it as discreetly as possible right into this ear hole, baby," Katy says with surety in her words while I stare back at her completely wide eyed.

Wow.

Holy shit.

This really is huge! Especially if it came from Annie who is usually tight lipped when it comes to these things because she's a firm believer in jinxing things. The woman being an assistant to one of the top bosses in the head office was the very person everyone went to when they wanted rumours confirmed. This is pretty much a done deal.

"I- Do you think this will give the top bosses too much of a headache and take me off the hook?" I change the topic of my question and ask one that I hopefully get a positive answer to. Instead, Katy rolls her eyes at me as her pink lips pull up into a smirk.

"Who knows? The one and only Catherine Cunningham might give the job to you. She's as cunning as her last name indicates, and everyone knows she loves watching people squirm. Plus, she did say she was going to give you one hell of a job with a tough client so you can show your full potential," Katy ticks off each point with her fingers while I stare open mouthed at her, not quite believing the surreal words that leave her mouth.

"Half of what Catherine said, you added yourself so that negates everything. Secondly, no way in hell am I going to be trusted with this. Yes, I have to work hard to keep my job and hopefully get promoted, but I royally screwed up the last job I was given," I choose to ignore the certain look she gets in her eyes which she tries to convey to me, "Catherine Cunningham would rather throw herself out of her high story office than entrust that job to me. Like I said, if we manage to pull this off, we'll be in a whole other league. But if this crashes, oh will we all be out of our jobs." I end somewhat seriously, even though my ass is already fifty percent on the line. If I scoot over, I'll be plummeting to my demise.

I can be dramatic when I want to be.

"We'll just have to wait and see now won't we," the woman says with a huff, standing up with just a tiny bit of a struggle before she fights herself, "You'll be called in by the end of the day and I'll either say I told you so or you get me one of those shakes from McDonald's that I've been craving for ages."

Frowning at her words, I watch as she makes her way towards the door, "You do know that I don't win anything if I'm correct, right?"

All I get is a wave of her hand as she closes the door behind her, leaving me shaking my head at her in amusement, although my stomach twists due to the nerves running through me.

We'll just have to see.

—————

AN: Hi everyone! Do let me know your thoughts etc.

Question: What's the one food you could never bring yourself to eat?

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