Waiting for Prince Harry by Aven Ellis Page A

cover our event once Harrison was added,” Laurel says knowingly. Then she leans toward me to talk in my ear. “Rumor has it that she would like to mix business with pleasure as far as Harrison is concerned.”
    “How would you know that?” I ask honestly.
    Laurel is now focused on her iPhone, scrolling through her Twitter feed. “We’ve almost tripled our followers since you tweeted that photo of Harrison. I need to find Bradley and see how our online sales are going. Oh, but in answer to your question? I’m friends with a girl from the sales department of her station. Cynthia’s made it known that Harrison Flynn is the one she has her eye on.”
    I swallow hard. Now they are shooting a segment. Harrison looks very relaxed, and he’s talking and running his hand over his hair as he speaks to Cynthia.
    “Look at him now,” Laurel says. “He’s interested in her. You can tell by the way he’s flirting with her.”
    “You don’t know that,” I snap impulsively.
    “Kylie, seriously? See the way he’s leaning in to her? Look at his eyes—he’s totally into Cynthia. What man wouldn’t be? She’s the package—gorgeous, smart—she went to Stanford, you know—and a sports fan. Famous in her own right. That’s the kind of woman he wants. Oh, and guess what? Backstage, Ashlea Kelly gave him her phone number. She actually entered it into his iPhone for him. Can you believe that?”
    I feel a huge lump rise in my throat. I watch Harrison, and I can see everything Laurel sees. He’s happy to talk to Cynthia. Harrison is smiling and laughing and using his hands in an animated way—
    And Cynthia Burke—and Ashlea Kelly—are the kinds of women he should be with—successful, famous, gorgeous . . .
    Because , I think painfully, they are everything I’m not. They’re everything I can never be.
    While Harrison did say we had endless possibilities, he never said for what . And as I watch him with Cynthia, I realize my own feelings no doubt caused me to misinterpret what he was saying. There’s no way, absolutely no way, he can look at Cynthia, who wants him just as much as I do, no doubt—and then see me in that same light.
    Oh God why do I want to cry?
    I need to get out of here. I need to leave. I don’t want to face the humiliation that’s coming my way.
    “Laurel, is it okay if I go? I’m getting a really bad headache.”
    Laurel looks up from her iPhone. “I bet you are,” she says knowingly, glancing at Harrison and Cynthia. Then she turns back to me. “But that’s fine, I completely understand. Heartache, headache, whatever.”
    Is it wrong that I totally want to punch my boss in the face?
    And send Cynthia to work at ESPN in Bristol?
    But since neither idea is an option, I hurry through the crowd to the Employees Only area. I take off my headset, put it away, grab my clutch, and hurry out of there.
    I fight through the crowd of people, slowly making my way to the front door. Finally I do and I step out into the searing summer night. I move down the sidewalk, blinking back tears. I see my car in the parking lot, and I head toward it when suddenly I hear my name.
    “Kylie!”
    I freeze. I turn around and Harrison is running toward me. My heart stops. I am rooted to the ground, and I can’t believe he’s coming up to me.
    “Kylie, where are you going?” Harrison asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I saw you walk out, and Laurel said you were leaving. But why, Kylie? Without saying anything to me? Why weren’t you going to meet up with me, like we planned?”
    I study his face and see nothing but confusion in his beautiful eyes.
    “Harrison, I don’t think you need a bodyguard tonight,” I say softly, trying my best to be his friend. “I saw you with Cynthia, and I figured I’d slip out. You seem to be having a good time.”
    Harrison’s eyes narrow for a second. “So you weren’t going to wait for me? You were leaving because I was giving an interview to Cynthia?”
    “Harrison,