"This is ridiculous," said Richard as he flung the papers on the table and it slid towards Mr. Walters. "There isn't an allocated budget for F&B. What is the crew supposed to survive on in Paris, air?" he continued, incredulous.
"Oh, is it? Ms. Khan did not inform me of such a problem?" Mr. Walters said slyly.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that the interns were supposed to do the managements tasks as well, like allocating and approving budgets," Richard said gruffly desperately trying to control his anger.
They had less than 24 hours before they had to leave for Paris and the crew still didn't have the budget. Farrah had not breathed a word about this to him, and he was about to lay his anger into Mr. Walters' face if he had to hear one more snide or crude remark.
"Well," Mr. Walters drawled, "we can increase the budget, but it will take at least two weeks." Mr. Walters smiled feigning innocence, he turned to Farrah as he continued, "Can we post pone the trip, perhaps?"
Richard clenched his jaw, and on the other side of the table he saw Farrah mimicking his actions. Her face blank but her jaw was clenched. Next to her, George was a splotchy red mess. The only person who seemed cool and calm, was Rachel - the director of the segment.
"Now, Mr. Walters, I'm sure you are well aware that if we post pone the trip we'd be missing Princess Elizabeth's 20th anniversary," Rachel said with a calm smile on her face.
"Oh dear, I'm deeply sorry about that," Mr. Walters said with a cruel smile as he made a move to stand up. "I'm sorry Your Highness, I have to leave. Another budget meeting, you know how it goes," he said with a wink. As he walked to the door, he turns around and looks pointed at Farrah, "Ms. Khan, I'll be in my office if you need to discuss the budget."
As the door closed, the room was still in tense silence until Mr. Walters disappeared out of sight. George rolled away from the desk and doubled over, resting his elbows on his knees and exhaling loudly. "Rachel, I think I am going to commit murder," he said gruffly.
"Come off it, George," Rachel rolled her eyes.
George sat up looking at Farrah and completely forgetting that Richard was in the conference room, he asked loudly, "Is that that slimy piece of shit ever going to give up trying to get into your knickers?"
With wide eyes Farrah looked behind George and locked gazes with Richard. The pencil in his hand snapped in two. George clamped his hand over his mouth and whirled his chair around.
"My apologies, Sir. I...It slipped my mind that you were here," he stuttered, completely red in the face.
"Is this some kind of regular occurrence? I swear that every time someone says anything slightly suggestive or even downright lewd, both Ms. Khan and Ms. Khoo are as cool as cucumbers," Richard sad tightly.
"What can we say, Sir. We're used to it. Everyone wants something; more often than not they use it to their advantage," Rachel remarked with a small smile on her face.
Shaking his head, Richard scrubbed his face with his palm and his other hand still had a tight grip on the broken pencil. "Ms. Khan, pass me booking details again," Richard said tiredly. He took out his phone and dialled Stacy.
"Good Afternoon, Sir," Stacy's voice resounded in the conference room.
"Stacy, I'm going to be sending you the booking details of Ms Khan's team. Cancel it," Richard said tightly as he took in Farrah's eyes wide in shock. And the nervous demeanours of George and Rachel.
"Where have you booked me for in Paris?" Richard continued still agitated.
"The usual, Sir," came Stacy's reply.
"Right. Make bookings for Ms. Khan's team there as well, will you?" Richard instructed.
"But Sir, we don't-." Richard held a hand up cutting George off mid-sentence.
"Stacy, make sure Ms. Khan gets her refund. For these new bookings, remove it from Allan's allocated budget. An intern by the name of Violet Smith will call you to pass on details like passport numbers etcetera," Richard continued.
"Yes, Sir. Is that all, Sir?" Stacy asked again.
"Yes-," This time Richard was cut off.
"Stacy, hi! It's Farrah," Farrah chimed in quickly. Resting her palm on Richard's arm halting his movements from cutting the call.
"Oh, hello Farrah," Stacy said pleasantly.
"Stacy, I am not aware where is Richard's usual, but please do not book anything overtly lavish for the crew. The last thing I need right now is for Allan to come barging into the BBCS offices again," Farrah said candidly.
"I understand, Farrah. I'll be waiting for the call with all the booking information," Stacy said warmly.
"Yes, Violet will get to it right this instant," Farrah motioned for Violet to enter the room as they said their goodbyes. Farrah let go of his arm and she gathered the papers and instructed Violet on what to do.
Again. The last thing she needs is for Allan to come barging into the BBCS offices, again. Again. That was the only thought that was running through his mind as he watched Farrah. As she made a move to walk away from him, he grabbed her elbow making her stand opposite him. Her eyes were wide, and he could feel the warmth of her skin seeping through the silk of her mint colored blouse.
"You said 'again'. Has Allan been here?" Richard asked incredulous.
"Yes, Sir. He has. And he basically gave all of us, especially Farrah, a dressing down," George said in all seriousness. However, both George and Rachel could not ignore the familiarity that they could see in the interaction between Farrah and the prince.
Richard's eyes were glued on Farrah and he could see that she was feeling uncomfortable. He knew he should let go, but every fiber in his being just wanted to pull her closer and let himself get lost in her scent, in her warmth. He was trying to control his anger but as his gripped tightened on Farrah's elbow, Farrah was pleading with her eyes that he let go. He clenched his jaw and let go of her elbow. Farrah turned around and saw the questioning looks in both Rachel and George's expression.
The three colleagues, just watched as the prince excused himself. Farrah was aware that Richard was spitting mad. But this time, she knew that she couldn't sneak away to see him before he left the BBCS offices. Taking a deep breath, she told herself it'll all be okay. Besides they'll be leaving for Paris tomorrow. With the crew, Farrah. You'll be leaving for Paris, with the crew, she reminded herself. You're not going on a fucking holiday with Richard.
After a beat it was Rachel who broke the silence, "So, the two of you...you are quite...familiar...with each other?"
Farrah wasn't sure if it was a question that Rachel was posing or if she was stating a fact. Frowning, "Say it, Rachel..."
"I'm not saying anything, Farrah. I want you to say it," Rachel said seriously.
"We're friends. I know it sounds like a fucking cliché but that's what I think we are," Farrah said sighing rubbing her temples.
"You referred to him as 'Richard'. Not Sir. Not Your Highness. You even dropped the 'Prince'. I mean we were all briefed on how we are not allowed to initiate contact with him, and you touched him, and he didn't even bat an eyelid..." George trailed.
"In fact, he looked like he didn't want you to let go. His eyes follow you wherever you go. And let's not forget that you didn't flinch when he grabbed you by the elbow," Rachel added. Rachel turned to George, "Remember how she elbowed Chris because he was hovering too close to her 'personal space'?"
"Yeah, I remember. But, Chris is an arsehole. He deserved it," George said offhandedly.
"I don't know what you think it is, but if you're trying to figure out if we're sleeping together...we're not. And never will, I still am a practicing Muslim, yeah. Don't forget it," Farrah said feeling slightly offended.
"Nobody said that, Farrah,' Rachel said placatingly.
"But there is definitely something that runs deeper than friendship," George says shrugging.
"Just because he allowed me the use of his name?" Farrah asked, her face contorted in an incredulous expression.
"It's just the way you both are around each other. We can see you try to hide it, but it's there," Rachel said.
"Like, there's a spark...a flare of intensity there," George continued.
"Wow George, that was almost poetic," Farrah said as she fiddled with her hair.
"Whatever it is, if you do end up as Mrs. Richard Princess of Wales; first interview is with me yeah," Rachel piped cheekily.
"Hah! I will promise you that interview because it will never happen," Farrah said as she shook her head. Collecting her things, she excused herself to her desk wanting to check up on Violet's progress.
"We're going to stay where?" the whole office heard Farrah shriek five minutes later.
***
I am aware that I promised a long chapter, but seriously, I could not even add a word to this chapter. So it's a short one.
I also need to thank all the new readers! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
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