Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty 3)

“Good morning, sir,” he says, going to the back hatch of my Range Rover and opening it to grab the luggage. After I open the back door and grab my backpack, I walk around the car to see that Erin is already out with her backpack over her shoulder, and she is holding a tray of coffee.

“I’ll get the other one,” I tell her, and she moves away from me, and then I lean in and grab the tray. “I left the keys in the car,” I tell the guy who just finished loading our luggage in the plane. He is going to drop off my car, another service that money pays for. “Ready?” I ask her, walking up the five steps that lead into the private plane.

“Good morning, Mr. Johnson.” The blond man stands there at the door in his blue suit with his hands folded in front of him. “Welcome aboard.”

I nod at him and walk onto the plane. White cream leather lines the sides with two white leather seats on each side and a table in the middle. I place my tray on the table and look over to see that the man is now laughing with Erin. I grit my teeth. “You can put it down here,” I say loud enough, and they stop talking. She walks to me, placing the tray on the table. I’m expecting her to look around and ooh and ahh over a private plane, but she doesn’t. She takes off her sunglasses and puts them in her backpack, then sits down on one of the chairs. “After we take off, we can go sit on the couch,” I tell her, motioning to the couch that is just behind the chairs. There are two chairs in front of the couch also.

“Is it just us?” she asks, looking around.

“We are getting ready for takeoff,” the pilot says over the speaker, and I look over at the flight attendant who is shutting the door and bringing in the stairs.

I sit in front of her. “It’s just us.” I answer her question and then change the subject before she jumps off the plane. “So which one are you going to drink?” I ask her, and she leans back in her chair.

“Let’s do a taste testing,” she says and leans in, opening all the covers. “Maybe you will find one you like instead of just ‘regular.’” She uses her fingers to do air quotes. The plane starts to move when she takes one out. “Okay, this is a regular latte,” she says, reading the label on the side. She brings it to her mouth and takes a sip. “I mean, it’s basic.” She hands me the cup, and I bring it to my lips.

“It’s coffee,” I tell her, and she just shakes her head as I put it back into the holder. “So far, that’s my favorite.”

“We’ve only done one,” she says, laughing, and I like the sound of it. It’s comfortable. “This is the vanilla latte.” She takes a sip and passes it to me.

“That’s too much sugar,” I say to her. She laughs again when I grimace, and the sound of her laughter does something to me. I bring my hand up to my head to feel if I’m warm; maybe I’m coming down with a fever. After tasting all eight drinks, I find some are downright nasty. “So, I’m going with number one followed by the green tea,” I tell her, and she throws her head back and lets out a huge belly laugh.

“I’m going with the vanilla latte. No second,” she says and then grabs the glass of water that the guy put in front of us right after we took off. He comes back and picks up all the coffee and then asks us if we are ready to eat. “Take a selfie for Instagram,” she says, and I take my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture of myself. I show it to her, and she just nods. “Send it to me so I can put it on the movie Instagram page.”

I send it to her, and her eyes look up at me once she hears a ping on her phone. “What number is this?”

I lean back in my chair and watch her face. “It’s my new number. I canceled my other one.”

She mimics my posture, leaning back in her chair. “Why?”

“Because if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right,” I tell her honestly.

“You mean you don’t want temptation?” She sees right through me.

“Either way, the bottom line is I have a new number, so just store it in your phone,” I tell her, and she doesn’t say anything because our food arrives.

He comes out with two trays, placing both in the middle of the table. Eggs, bacon, and sausage are on one, and pancakes and waffles are on the other. He leaves and comes back with empty plates for us and a basket of fresh bread. “Would you like coffee with that?” he asks, and I shake my head, grabbing a waffle.