a/n: i have spent way too much time on this to let it sit in my drafts any longer. whether you've played the original story or not, i hope you enjoy!

...

It's not that I hate my job. It's just that, on this particular Saturday evening, I hate my job.

I struggle out the back door of the diner clutching two bin bags and trying not to breathe through my nose. Daniel follows behind, more bin bags in tow, sighing profusely.

'Another glamorous Saturday night in New York,' I exhale as I swing the stinking black plastic bags into the dumpster.

'Could be worse,' Daniel says. 'Could be, oh, shit, a rat!' he shrieks suddenly, dropping the bin bags and leaping away.

'Don't tell me you're afraid,' I laugh, picking up the bin bags and throwing them after the other two. 'It's only – jesus, that is huge.'

The door slams open, and our manager sticks his red, shiny head out the door.

'You two! Get inside!'

'You just told us to take you the garbage' I retort, gesturing towards the bins.

'And now I'm telling you to wait on the bachelor party that just rolled in. Chop, chop!'

He disappears back inside.

'Give me strength,' Daniel mutters, raising his eyes heavenward.

Following him back inside through the hot, loud kitchen, he peels off to find some bin bags as I re-enter the heaving restaurant, scanning the room for the aforementioned bachelor party.

I had been expecting a large, rowdy group of men, but instead I'm faced with three well-dressed, sober looking guys waiting patiently on the other side of the bar. My eyes dart between them, a brief moment of relief settling pleasantly over me before my gaze comes to rest on the tallest of the three men, and his eyes lift to meet mine.

Something zips through me, and I try not to let it show as he holds my gaze. He's possibly the handsomest man I have ever seen. Dark features, broad shoulders, and brown eyes which I could very much envision myself getting lost in...

'Ah, waitress, there you are. We need your best table!' the man standing next to him announces, and I tear my eyes away to look at this man instead. He's not nearly as nice to look at, lanky, with a face which looks as though it's pinched in permanent self-importance.

'Forget the table. Just bring us whiskey, and lots of it.'

He speaks; an excuse for my eyes to flick back to his face. He's still watching me, and I pray that he can't tell how attracted to him I am as I smile. Even his voice – something tugs at my sleeve and I'm forced to look away from him again. It's Daniel.

'Riley, please take this one. I have a date, I need to get out of here early.'

'You want me to take the bachelor party? Why do I get all the rowdy tables?' I tease, turning to him.

'Because you're better at this than I am!' he pleads.

'Fine. You owe me one,' I say, but I'm smiling.

Daniel's face breaks into a wide smile. 'You're the best.'

'I know,' I shrug, reaching for the pencil pushed through my hair.

'They're seated already. Get over there,' my manager snaps as he walks past, and Daniel and I pull faces at each other simultaneously.

I compose myself quickly and as Daniel darts off to another table, I walk over to the bachelor party. On the way I'm struck with a horrible thought. What if he's the bachelor, brown eyes? That would be just my luck.

'Hi guys, I'll be taking care of you this evening,' I say as I reach the table.

'Waitress, steaks for the table please!' the smallest of the three pipes up. He's cute, I suppose, if you're into that sort of thing.

'Er, how about some filet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a bearnaise sauce?' the haughty man says, looking at me expectantly. I try and fail to hide a smile. Where are these guys from? Certainly not New York, with their European accents not dissimilar to mine.

'The closest thing we have to that is the deluxe burger,' I tell him, and his face visibly falls.

'Dare I ask for your wine list?' he asks.

'We've got an excellent vintage house red,' I smile, biting my lip in amusement when he looks at me as though I've just announced that I enjoy kicking puppies in my spare time.

'House red?' he repeats.

'It also comes in white,' I say, and brown eyes emits a cough which sounds awfully like a badly disguised laugh. My chest grows very warm as he smirks at the table, gathering and passing me all four menus.

'We'll be fine with a bottle of whiskey... and four deluxe burgers,' he says, locking eyes with me once more as I take the menus from him. I'm so busy concentrating on not going red that I don't immediately notice that he's got the number wrong.

'Four?' I finally manage, and the man nods behind me. I turn around to find myself face to face, or rather face to chest, with yet another very good-looking man. This one is attractive in a more conventional way: blonde with shocking blue eyes and very white teeth.

He's not my type, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate him.

'Sorry I'm late,' he says. 'Thank you for your patience, Miss...?'

'Riley,' I smile, gesturing to my name badge.

'Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley,' he says, inclining his head. Seriously, where are these guys from?

'Nice to meet you. Let me go put your order in,' I say and rush back over to the bar upon seeing two more tables waiting to be sat. I barely have time to think about them again over the next few hours, and by the time I feel a tap on my shoulder I'm exhausted.

I turn to find the blonde man standing behind me.

'I think we're about ready to head out. I just wanted to thank you, and apologise. I know we kept you late, and my friends can be demanding.'

'Nothing I couldn't handle,' I smile, wiping my hands off on the bar towel I'm holding and acutely aware of the fact that I probably look like a mess and smell like grease and booze.

'I get the feeling that you can take care of yourself. If you don't have any other plans tonight, maybe I can make it up to you by buying you a drink. We're about to go to a club,' he says, and my interest is suddenly piqued.

'Oh? Which one?' I ask, trying to sound casual.

'We were hoping you might have some advice about that. We're not from round here,' he admits, and you almost laugh.

'I figured. The best club in town is Kismet, it's not far from here.'

'That sounds perfect. Are you in?' he asks, with barely concealed hope. I glance behind him; brown eyes is still there, chatting to the others.

'Sure! Let me finish up here; I'll meet you out front,' I smile.

'Great,' he says, and I rush to finish the last of my jobs for the evening before getting changed in record time, thanking the lord that I'd brought a change of clothes for after work. It's just some jeans and a leather jacket, but it'll do.

Before I have time to consider that I'm about to go to a club with a group of men whose names I don't even know, I'm back out the front with my bag, shrugging my jacket over my shoulders.

All four men turn as I approach them, and brown eyes raises his eyebrows in what looks like appreciation. I struggle not to beam, settling for a coy smile instead. Please, please don't let him be the stag.

'I almost didn't recognise you,' he says to me.

'Yeah, the waitress is hot,' the smaller one says, clearly already fairly drunk. I laugh.

'Ahem. Her name is Riley, and I doubt she appreciates you talking about her like that,' the blonde guy says.

'Speaking of names, do I get to know yours?' I ask, twisting one of my rings around my finger.

'Of course! How rude of us. I'm Liam,' the blonde one says, inclining his head.

'Maxwell. And sorry, I meant to say you look lovely,' the cute one says sheepishly.

'Tariq,' says the haughty man, and I can't help but think that his name suits him perfectly.

I'm already looking at brown eyes before he speaks. 'Drake,' he says, offering up a tiny smile that's more of a twitch of the corner of his mouth than anything else. God it's attractive. Drake.

'Now let's get this party going!' Maxwell announces, and sets off in the wrong direction. Once we've steered him in the right direction, I hear Drake and Liam talking behind me as we walk.

'So she's our tour guide now?' Drake asks.

She?

'Riley was kind enough to agree to show us around. She's doing us a favour, so play nice,' Liam scolds him. I can't help but feel a bit put out, and concentrate on not falling into conversation with Tariq as we walk.

Less than ten minutes later, we're walking into the club.

'Time to party!' Maxwell yells, barely audible over the music.

'You there! Who do we talk to for bottle service?' Tariq demands, accosting someone who doesn't even appear to be working here tonight. I find myself walking to a VIP booth with Liam.

'Thank you for bringing us here. Looks like they're going to have fun,' he says, watching his friends as he settles in across from me. I scrutinise him for a moment.

'I bet you're used to putting everyone else first,' I say. He looks surprised for a moment.

'And why would you say that?'

'I can tell. I'm good at reading people. Forget about them for a minute, what about you? Do you like it here?'

'What I'm enjoying most is the company.'

I struggle not to blush.

'And I believe I owe you a drink. What'll the lady have?'

'A double shot of whiskey, if you're offering.'

He looks surprised.

'You don't mess around, do you?'

'I had a long shift,' I smile.

He orders the drinks on his phone, and they take less than a minute to arrive.

'Thanks. I guess this makes us even,' I say, taking a sip. The liquid burns a pleasant path down through my chest.

'Hm, you're right. Now I'll have to find some other excuse to get you to stay,' Liam replies, smiling at me over the top of his glass.

'Better think of something fast.'

'Well, the guys seemed to like you. If you stick around, you can keep them in line,' he suggests, looking over towards his friends again.

'Oh yeah?' I reply, following his gaze. 'I'm pretty sure I just watched a girl dump her drink on Maxwell.'

'See? We need you now more than ever,' he smiles.

'And what if I don't feel like babysitting?'

'How about I buy you another drink? Does that work for you?' he offers.

'Now you're not even trying to persuade me,' I retort.

'Okay, you got me. Honestly? Hanging out with you is the most fun I've had this entire trip,' he admits, sinking the rest of his drink in one gulp.

'Oh, that's... sweet. I guess that means you haven't really been enjoying yourself much,' I say, my eyebrows drawing down and in.

'It's been wonderful, but there's something missing. I really wanted to do one thing in particular while I was here.'

'What's that?'

'I've always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. It wasn't really in the guys' plans and we just never got round to it. And now it's my last day here. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. It was thoughtful of my friends to throw me a bachelor party. They've done their best, but I'm not in the mood to celebrate.'

'It's your bachelor party?' I ask, and my heart can't help but lift slightly when he nods. His! Not Drake's. 'You're pretty flirty for an engaged guy,' I comment, raising my eyebrows.

'That's the thing. I actually don't know who I'm going to marry yet... only that I have to pick my fiancé by the end of the year.'

It takes me a good few seconds to make sure I heard him correctly. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

He sighs before looking up at me. 'I'm the Crown Prince of Cordonia.'

My mouth falls open. 'You're a prince? Why didn't you tell me?'

'Perhaps I should have been more upfront. But I'm not normally allowed to go around without the Royal Guard, and I was only allowed out on the condition that I kept my identity a secret. Just for one day, I wanted to be normal. But I have a duty to the monarchy. I've never known anything else. But what about you? You could be anything, do anything.'

This guy is a prince, and he's asking what about me? It's another moment before I can remember how to speak.

'Well, I really just want to see the world. I'm saving, and one day I want to see it all. The Northern Lights, the Eiffel Tower, the Parthenon.'

'That's beautiful,' Liam smiles, looking back over towards his friends. Maxwell is forcing a very weary looking Drake to dance with him, and Tariq appears to have ordered a bottle of champagne.

'They're definitely having fun,' I grin.

'Good. They deserve to have fun. Tomorrow it's back to Cordonia for the start of the social season.'

I decide not to ask any further questions. The whiskey has settled pleasantly in my bones, and the music is loud.

'Well, it's not tomorrow yet,' I declare, standing up, before hesitating.

'Are you sure they won't mind me crashing your bachelor party?'

'Who cares? It's my bachelor party. And I say stay,' Liam says.

'As you wish. You are royalty, after all,' I reply, giving a little curtsy.

He buys me another double whiskey, and things start growing a little hazy after that. There's dancing and singing, and then all of a sudden there's a prince walking me home from a nightclub at two am. He hasn't got striking brown eyes that make electricity surge through me, but it's not a bad deal.

'This is me,' I say, when we reach my door, wondering vaguely if this is the safest thing I've ever done. He's a stranger, alleged prince or not.

'Thank you for your company. Tonight was... fun. And I'm very pleased we met.'

Nope, he's definitely a prince. No one talks like that.

'Me too. Thanks for walking me home,' I say, fumbling with my keys for a moment. Finally I get the right one, and let myself in.

'Goodnight,' he smiles.

'G'night,' I say, and close the door.