Rise: Populations Crumble, Book 2 Page 16

  “Patrick, we have a problem.” I try not to sound panicked, but nonetheless, he turns too quickly, and sloshes hot coffee on his wrist.

  “Shoot! Ahh, that stings!” He quickly sets the cups down, and sits on the edge of the bed, which I still haven’t left. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to talk to my parents!”

  He looks confused. “Uhm, okay, but you know that they don’t really allow any outside communications except in case of emergencies, right? Even letters are screened, and they don’t give us much mail.”

  I shake my head. “This is an emergency! My parents are going to see this interview today. See me sitting next to you, being called the future Princess of the NAA, and they have no clue. I have to call them, Patrick. I don’t know if Teddy’s told them, or what he’s told them!”

  He grabs both of my hands, which had been flapping eccentrically, and holds them between his larger ones. “Okay, I’ll talk to the director. It’s not usually allowed, but they let me put in a call to my mother yesterday, given the circumstances. Although, while I hate to say it, you probably shouldn’t tell them too much, in case the line is recorded.”

  I nod. “That makes sense. I just can’t let them get blindsided by this. I’m sure Teddy’s told them something, but they deserve to hear it from me, not a news anchor.”

  “I agree, hearing it from you would be best. You’d better get moving then! We’ll try to get you a phone call first, but you’re already late for your makeup.”

  “Okay, okay! I’m going now!” I fly out of bed, with new motivation propelling me.

  I rush through my usual morning routine, throw my hair in a bun—ignoring all of the wispy fly-aways, as usual—and in record time, I'm taking Patrick’s hand and heading down the stairs.

  The main floor of the guest house has been overrun with people. Cameras, equipment, lights, and people wearing various headsets clog up the usually empty area, and I stop in my tracks.

  “Are these people all here for us?” I whisper, leaning closer to Patrick on reflex.

  “Yep, sure are. Let’s scoot past and go see the director first.” He leads me straight to an office nestled off the front entrance of the resort and knocks on the closed door.

  A moment later, Jared opens the door and gestures us inside. “How can I help you this morning?” he asks, settling behind his ornate mahogany desk.

  “I need to make a phone call. My parents don’t know about all of this, and I don’t want them to hear about it on the evening news.” I gesture at the doorway, where sounds of the unusual crowd of people are filtering into his office.

  He steeples his fingers together, considering my request. “As I told you yesterday, we have a very strict policy regarding outside contact. We allow some letters, but otherwise we feel that it’s best if your focus remains here, on the new family you’re building, rather than outside, with the people waiting for you.” He stops and gives us a very stern look.

  That wasn’t a no. I simply stare back, waiting him out.

  After a lengthy pause, he finally sighs in surrender. “All right, given the unusual circumstances, we’ll allow it. Only this once, and please do not tell anyone else that you were able to call home. This really can’t become a regular occurrence.” This, he directs at Patrick with a testy squint.

  “Thank you so much for understanding! We won't abuse it; I can’t let my parents hear this news from a stranger on television.”

  He nods, hands me a sleek silver phone, and heads for the door. At the last second he pauses, hand on the knob. “I’ll be back in five minutes.” Then slips out, and the door shuts behind him with a soft click.

  Who to call? I dial my mom first, and the phone disappointingly rings through to her voicemail. She’s probably not going to answer, since she doesn’t know it’s me. “Mom, it’s Sadie. I have some news I wanted to tell you myself before you hear it elsewhere. I only have access to this phone for five minutes, please call me back! I’m going to call Dad next. Love you, bye!” I quickly hang up, and dial my father.

  Thankfully, he picks up on the second ring. “Hello,” the sound of his voice, exactly how I remember it, chokes me up so much that I forget to respond at first. “Hello?” he says again, and I finally remember to speak.

  “Dad! It’s Sadie! I’ve missed you so much.” My voice comes out scratchy around the building tears.

  “Sadie! Oh, baby, it’s so good to hear your voice. Is everything okay?” There’s a shuffling sound, and then he hollers, “Marie! Sadie’s on the phone, get in here.”

  I can hear my mother’s voice from a distance. “Sadie? I thought she wasn’t allowed to call! Wait, why did she call you, instead of me?”

  “I don’t know yet! Sadie, are you still there?”

  “Yes, Dad, I’m here. I’m so glad you’re both there. I need to tell you something, and I only have a few minutes.” I have to smile at their usual back and forth, and Patrick squeezes my hand.

  “Hang on, I'll put you on speaker.” I hear a beep, and he continues, “Okay, Sadie, what do you need to tell us?”

  “Well, I—” I trail off, unsure of how to start, but the time crunch doesn’t allow me to overthink it. “I’m going to be on the news this afternoon. I wanted you to know, beforehand, so you wouldn't be surprised.” I pause, but they stay quiet. “I’m actually here now with my new husband, Patrick. He’s—he’s really amazing, and I think you guys are going to love him.” I pause again, looking over at Patrick, who gives me an encouraging nod.

  “But here’s the thing, and I don’t know what Teddy may have already told you, but, well, he’s Patrick Royce. The prime minister’s son.” My dad blows out a breath, but otherwise stays silent. I close my eyes. “I needed you to hear that from me. Before you see me in a news interview. He’s not who I expected to get matched with, but he's a really great person. And I hope you guys will give him a chance, and love him too, in time. That’s all—” I stop, the lump in my throat preventing further rambling.

  “Baby, if he makes you happy, he could be from Mars for all we care. You sound happy, sugar. Are you? Does he make you happy?”

  “Yeah, Daddy, he does.” My voice is small, and Patrick squeezes my hand again in support.

  “Then that’s all that matters. It’s going to be fine, baby.” His voice is so reassuring, I feel a tear leak from the corner of my eyes.

  “I wish I could have told you in person, but I'm afraid this is the best I can do. I would give anything to hug you both right now. Hopefully soon.” I try not to let them hear the sadness rolling through me, and soak in their voices like a desert soaks up rain.

  “Oh, sweetie, we miss you more than anything! But you’ll be home soon, and things can start getting back to normal. Just like Teddy and Faith!” my mom says with happiness.

  “How are Teddy and Faith? Are they doing okay?” I ask, glad for the temporary change of focus.

  “Oh, they’re great! Faith is absolutely lovely. She’s been a little sick, but don’t you worry—I’m taking good care of her. We couldn’t have asked for a sweeter daughter-in-law.” My mom’s gushing tone tells me all I need to know. No way is Faith leaving for New Texas when her three years is up. She’s one of us now. That happy thought bolsters me.

  “Can I speak with them for a moment?” Patrick asks quietly from my side.

  “Sure! Hey, Mom and Dad? Patrick wants to say hello.” I push the button to put the phone on speaker.

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor?” he says, his voice a hint lower than usual.

  “Hello, son,” Dad says.

  “I’m sorry that we aren’t able to meet in person, but I wanted to let you both know that I love your daughter dearly, and I intend to do everything in my power to make her happy. I know our situation is a bit different than many, but, I love her—with all of my heart. I thought you should know that.”

  It’s silent for a beat, and then I hear my mom sniffle. “Thank you for speaking with us, Patrick. It’s good to hear that you
two have made a real match.”

  The office door behind us opens a crack. “Time’s up,” Jared says, but he doesn’t open the door the rest of the way.

  The rock in the pit of my stomach returns. “We have to go. I love you both so, so much. Watch the news later! Tell everyone we said hello!”

  “Bye, honey!” They both say their farewells, and I end the call with a pang of regret.

  Jared walks back in. “I assume everything is in order now?”

  I nod, and swipe furiously at a tear that’s rolling down my cheek.

  “Yes, thank you,” Patrick says, courteous when I’m unable to speak.

  “Very good. I believe your captive audience awaits.” he gestures to the door with a grimace. We stand, and Patrick puts his arm around my waist, and gives me a minute to scrub the last trace of tears from my cheeks before pulling open the door.

  Here goes nothing.

  Eye Candy

  Hair and makeup for TV are quite a process. The two men who did it, Giles and Chris, were like a tornado of constant motion and swirling instruments. They circled me non-stop for nearly an hour, chastising me the first half for not giving them enough time to “perfect their canvas,” which apparently, is me. Brooke showed up too, the royal Grecian dress in tow. By the time they were done with me, I felt like an ancient sacrifice, ready to be tossed into the volcano to appease the fertility gods.

  “Honey, you have got to stop frowning like that. We have done our part to make you into an ethereal goddess of the modern ages, but if you keep scowling you’re going to age before your time and look ugly on a postage stamp. Is that what you want?” Giles pauses for a split second. “No, I didn’t think so. Now, don’t waste my glamour on frown lines. Smile, and lift your chin. You’re about to become a princess among mere mortals; you need to act the part.” He puts two fingers under my chin, and lifts it until I notice the handheld mirror he’s offering me.

  I take it, afraid to see if I look like a clown, as long as they’ve been painting and plucking me. I drink in my reflection with a quiet gasp. Not a clown. They’ve instead polished me so that I now shine like a jewel. I’m still me, of course—brunette, freckles, blue eyes. The summer glow of ranch work has started to fade from my skin, but they’ve got it radiating a cool vitality.

  “Wow,” is all I manage.

  “Wow, she says. That’s it? We’ve turned you into a princess masterpiece worthy of an epic ballad, and all we get is wow?” Chris snorts. “We’ve got our work cut out with this one, Brookie.”

  Brooke shakes her head but doesn’t comment. She already made her disdain for me clear, when I refused to wear the shiny white patent-leather platform heels again this morning. She finally produced a simple gold bootie with delicate embossed leather, which I happily donned. I am so not giving these shoes back.

  “Do you like your hair, sweetie?” Giles reaches up and gestures to where my brunette tresses have been twisted into the most intricate braided crown I’ve ever seen. He’s even tucked tiny iridescent crystals into the strands, so that I sparkle with every turn.

  “It’s gorgeous, you’ve really outdone yourselves,” I say, giving him an appreciative smile. “It kind of looks like I’m wearing a crown,” I observe, tentatively touching one of the loops with a hidden gem.

  He chuckles and softly swats my hand away from his masterpiece. “That’s the idea, sweetie. You only get one chance to make a first impression. Your debut has to scream royalty, down to the last detail.”

  “Well, it definitely looks . . . royal,” I agree.

  A soft knock at the door grabs all of our attention, and a moment later Patrick enters, stunning in the pin-striped suit. Brooke saunters across the room to him.

  “Patrick, darling,” she simpers, making my skin crawl and my hackles rise as she lays a hand on his chest. “I’ve got one final touch for you.”

  He gives her a tight smile and removes her hand. His gaze scans the room and quickly lands on me, still seated in the spinning barber’s chair. His eyes turn to molten heat in the way I’ve come to love.

  “You look absolutely stunning,” he says, and his eyes travel from my braided crown slowly down to the tips of my golden-booted-toes. Heat suffuses me at his obvious perusal, and I blush.

  “Whoo, child, is it hot in here or is it just me?” Giles fans his face with an exaggerated gesture, eyes locked on Patrick.

  “Patrick, I’ve got your pocket square,” Brooke snaps, clearly unhappy with his lack of receptiveness to her overly friendly greeting.

  That’s right, Brookie. He’s not interested. My possessiveness surprises me, but her blatant interest in Patrick is grating on my nerves.

  He turns back to her and allows her to arrange a rich purple satin square into the tiny pocket on his suit jacket. It’s the only pop of color, as he has no tie, and his top shirt button is undone and draws my eye like a magnet.

  Once she’s perfected its position, she claps her hands together briskly, all business now that she’s been rebuffed. “It’s time, lovebirds. Candy should be here any minute to start your interview.”

  Candy Thomas, the perky blonde news anchor for NAA One. Oh boy.

  Patrick slips his arm around my waist, and the contact bolsters me.

  He leads me out of the room we’d taken over for interview preparations, and down the short hall to the conference room. The bustle of people is still there, but it’s quieter. Like someone has pulled a wool blanket over the area, stifling the energy from earlier.

  The first person turns and sees us approaching, and whips around with his camera. His motion sparks a domino effect, and suddenly the quiet hum is a buzz of anticipation.

  “Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Royce!” The first man gestures into the conference room, which is glowing, even in broad daylight, with the number of portable lights they’ve set up.

  Patrick gives him a nod, but I’m too busy trying to hold down my breakfast as my nerves spike. I have no desire to be on television, whatsoever. The idea of nearly every person in the entire NAA seeing this later is alarming. There’s only one news station left, so every citizen except the most rural will likely see this within the next twenty-four hours. I swallow, regretting my choice of pastries and hot cocoa for breakfast.

  Gripping Patrick’s hand tightly in mine, we are greeted by the tan, intimidatingly tall Candy Thomas. Her smile is wide, and in the excessively-lit room, near-blinding.

  “Well, lovebirds, nice of you both to join us!” she says by way of introduction. “Everyone is so thrilled to get a peak at the newlyweds, we almost couldn’t take the anticipation!” She looks us both up and down, before offering a hand to Patrick, and then me, to shake.

  Her grip is cool, and light on mine. “Nice to meet you,” I say, and my voice cracks at the end.

  She grimaces, and snaps her fingers at the crowd hovering behind us in the doorway. “Get the girl some water, would you? And give us a little space. She’s a nervous wreck.” She gestures vaguely in my direction, and the crowd moves back a few steps before she turns her eagle eye back to us.

  “Now, if you two would have a seat, we can go ahead and get started once you’ve had a sip of water.”

  A young man in cargo pants comes running into the room with a glass of water. He stops a few feet away from our position on the loveseat, as if he’s scared to come any closer.

  Candy rolls her eyes. “They won’t bite you. Now hurry up, we’re behind schedule.” She snaps again, and the man hands me the water before quickly scurrying back out the door.

  “Thank you!” I call to his retreating back, but he doesn’t acknowledge me.

  “So, this is going to be a pretty light piece. I know you’re new to the camera, so try to focus on me and pretend it’s simply the three of us having a nice Sunday afternoon chat in your living room. It’s not live, so it can be edited if need be. The prime minister’s office requested a get-to-know-you, with a few details about where you’re from, your home life, how you’re liking the
resort, and so on. Nothing earth-shattering, so no need to be nervous.”

  She smiles again, and I envy her ease in the middle of the chaotic atmosphere. After taking a few sips of my water, Candy gestures and another aid bustles in to take it away. Two cameramen file in, and post themselves in either corner of the room. One of them nods to Candy and a red light appears on the camera.

  “Good Evening, citizens of the North American Alliance! Candy Thomas here, with an exclusive interview. I am thrilled to be the first to introduce you to none other than Patrick and Sadie Royce, the son and daughter-in-law of Prime Minister Royce.” She lifts her thin arm in an elegant gesture and the cameras sweep toward us. I force a smile, and will my brain to slow down and focus.

  Patrick lifts his hand in a small wave, so I follow suit.

  “Patrick, how does it feel to finally, after all these years, be open about your identity?”

  One side of his mouth lifts, a sardonic smile briefly appearing before he answers, “Well, it is definitely a change to have cameramen camped outside. But, it comes with the territory.”

  “Yes, we’ve all seen the photographs taken of you two, enjoying your breakfast earlier this week. That must have been a shocking moment, when the two of you have been trying to focus on building a new family.” She pauses, and we both nod. “How is that going, by the way? Have you two enjoyed your time here at the honeymoon resort?” She raises her eyebrows expectantly.

  Sure, except the part with the secret medical facility full of sedated women, and the mandatory sex tracking. I keep my sarcasm to myself.

  “Mairmont is lovely, we’ve really enjoyed taking in the fall foliage, as well as the beaches and the local landmarks,” I say instead.

  Candy jumps at the chance to dig deeper. “Ahh, an outdoors enthusiast! Tell me, Sadie, did you spend a lot of time outdoors back home?”

  I nod. “Yes, my family owns a ranch down south. We all work the herds together.”

  “All? How many family members do you have?” She waits expectantly, and I force myself to ignore the pit in my stomach.