Excerpt from Shopping for a Princess by Kit Forbes.

Inspired by the unremarkable random encounter I rambled about in a recent writing workshop.  
Said encounter would have been done with and forgotten by an average sales clerk. But when it happens to a sales clerk who has an annoying little voice within that likes to wonder “What if. . . .” an entire fictional world springs to life. 

Late May

Virginia 

CJ acknowledged his bodyguard, Anton, who stepped over when the hotel's irritating General Manager returned to his office.

"Sir, if you would text me what it is the man expects you to retrieve, I will take care of it. He has no right to treat you as a common employee.”

"But I am technically a common employee at the moment." CJ slid his hands into his trouser pockets. "It's only for the summer. Besides, the store isn't far, and I'd like a bit of time to myself. I'll let you know should I need assistance."

"As you wish." 

Anton escorted him to the lobby doors.

Working as an assistant to the General Manager wasn't difficult. In fact, his faculty advisor had suggested that it put him on more equal footing with the others in the MBA program he'd begin once he returned to London.

But that was only partially true, for the real reason he'd wanted to gain practical work experience close to his country's main embassy in Washington was the young woman who'd come to his aid months ago-the one who continued to hover at the edge of his consciousness. The one who'd had a license plate from Virginia on her car.

It was embarrassing to admit what a grand idea returning to America had seemed once he was back in London. How could he ever imagine he would stumble upon his unexpected Cinderella in a place that was two hundred times the size of the principality he called home?

But now—finally—CJ had embraced the reality and settled into the truth that this position would make practical use of his undergraduate management class, however much it galled him to follow a directive which should have fallen to the banquet management team.

Luckily, the hotel was part of a large shopping and entertainment complex; the weather was lovely, and it gave him an excuse to get some much-needed fresh air by walking to Mason's, the nearby department store. While he noticed a few second glances from those he passed, it was a relief to not be recognized or approached.

Finding the upper-level section of the store housing small appliances, CJ looked around, hoping to see the item he needed. He stroked his chin. What were those damned things called again? Grillers?

"Hello there, Mr. Tall, Fair and Brooding."

Caught off guard, he turned toward the lilting female voice. "Come again?"

The pair of teenage girls looked at one another, then burst into giggles. The pony-tailed blonde whistled through her fingers. "Kat!"

CJ followed the blonde's gaze toward a white, louvered door behind the sales desk. A frowning brunette exited, glaring at the one who'd summoned her. 

"Sara! Keep it down."

"I didn't want you to lose out to the sales goal sniper."

Giggling again, the girls walked away. Once the brunette finally turned his way, her frown dissolved into a gleaming smile that wiped his mind of everything but her soul's inner brightness, radiating toward him from behind her soft brown eyes.

Time froze with the realization that this was indeed her, the one who'd helped him at the petrol station in the Spring.

"I'm so sorry. That was my sister. I swear, she saves money to have a reason to shop here just . . . to . . . annoy me . . . " 

She took a step closer and stopped.

His breath caught and he hoped she recognized him. 

He needed her to recognize him.

"It looks like you got caught in another detour. You should have taken my advice on the paper map."  She wagged her index finger and shook her head. 

"That's a pity, because Mason's at the King of Prussia Mall is bigger and will have a nicer selection of small appliances and bedding once the back-to-school sales come around." 

Her deadpan tone was no match for the playful smile teasing at the corners of her mouth.

"Ah, but The Fates have put you in my path again to set me on course." 

He mentally kicked himself for lacking the skill of being charmingly witty like Alex. "Forgive me. That was a horrible attempt at a joke. Actually, I've taken a management internship nearby and was sent to make a purchase."

CJ breathed a soft sigh when she broke eye contact to shuffle through an assortment of pricing signs on the sales desk between them.

She raised her head. 

"We have a sale starting tomorrow, but I'll be able to ring it as a presale today, so you don't lose out on the savings. What is it you need?"

Caught in the lure of her gaze, he fought the urge to blurt out you as the name of the thing he needed came to him, then faded away the instant she smiled again.

Tearing his attention away, he scanned the area to his left and fiddled with his shirt cuffs. "The catering staff needs something to set up small refreshment stations for a conference we're hosting tomorrow."

"Drink refreshments?"

He turned and she pointed to a stainless steel rolling cart. 

"If you plan to do smoothies or even mixed boozy drinks, you need this blender. It can turn ice cubes into snow in seconds."

"Really?"

"Yes! It's amazing! We have one at home." 

She winced, and he wondered if she felt as ridiculously awkward as he did. It was as if he'd been transported back into his teenaged self on the evening of his first unchaperoned date.

"Actually, I'm looking for a cooking appliance. A grill. No, a griddlecooker."

"A what? Greta Coker?" she asked with a puzzled expression.

Why was he an absolute idiot suddenly? It wouldn't surprise him if the waves of incompetence had already crossed the Atlantic. The university in London was going to rescind his undergrad degree or bar his entrance to the business school before he returned to Europe to start the MBA program.

Softly clearing his throat, he spoke slower, remembering the American inflection his late mother had taught him when he was small. "Forgive me. I am seeking a griddle cooker."

She chewed her lower lip a moment, and he couldn't take his attention off her mouth.

Time seemed to slow as she tried to make sense of what he'd attempted to describe. CJ savored the odd disconnect to study her. Around his own age, she was attractive, but without the polished modelesque look of most of the women he knew. And he finally knew why she'd made such an impression that wintry day in March. Her personality defined her, its inner warmth calm, inviting.

"Oh! I know what you want."

The next smile she gave him was the brightest yet. And he desperately wanted to kiss her.

She lifted her hands and said "Stay put," before stepping back through the door she'd exited, returning with another of the silver carts, this one stacked with yellow boxes containing exactly what he was tasked with purchasing.

"Yes. You have precisely what I need." He loved the way her cheeks flushed ever so slightly as he moved around right side of the sales desk to approach her. She broke eye contact first, and it was as if a cloud had moved across the sun.

"I'm glad. This model is pretty popular." 

She took one of the boxes and stepped left to the cash register and scanned it, then shuffled through a small stack of paper signs on the edge of the high counter. 

"List price is $74.99 but if you can wait until tomorrow to take it, I can ring it at a presale price of $49.99. Your credit card won't be charged until tomorrow when the sale goes live."

"I will purchase them today and take them with me."

"All twelve? At full price?" 

She clamped her hand over her mouth as if trying to shove the excited flow of words back in.

"All of them, yes. The cost is not an issue."

Her eyes widened slightly, but she recovered quickly, and he hoped she didn't judge him harshly for his lack of concern over what many might consider a sizeable expense.

"All righty then. A dozen electric griddles, it is."

He stepped closer to the sales desk and removed the hotel's credit card from the breast pocket of his suit jacket while she grabbed the wireless hand scanner and returned to the cart. She took care in scanning each box before returning to the cash register to total the sale, her smile gracing him with a ray of sunshine that once again to melted away his odd feeling of insecurity.

"Your total with tax is $953.87."

The card reader had an Out-of-Order note taped to it and he had no trouble believing that the precise, block lettering and the hand-drawn frowning face emoji were hers.

She winced. 

"I'm sorry. I should have used the register on this side. I'm not absent minded. Ever."

She bit her lower lip again. 

"If it's all right with you, I can swipe it on my end."

"That will be fine." He handed over the card, fighting the urge to let his fingers touch hers.

She processed the sale, and his gaze shifted momentarily to her name tag then back to her face when she looked up to return the card and long receipt.

"Thank you so much. You put me way over my sales goal for the day."

"The pleasure was all mine, Katrina."

"Kat. Everyone calls me Kat."

His inner teenager awakened once again, and he imagined touching the silky chestnut waves of her hair and whispering her full name before coaxing her in for a kiss. Damn. What was wrong with him? Shifting his attention to the appliance cart, he shoved the credit card and receipt into his pocket.

Would you like me to bag these or . . ."

CJ winced at his unaccustomed lack of foresight. "Let me contact someone from the hotel to come retrieve them." He pulled out his phone and stopped mid text when she spoke.

"You came from the Wyatt, yes?"

"Yes, and I should have driven, but I've been indoors all week and fancied a walk. I'm not sure why my brain chose today to skip the necessary details of getting these to the hotel."

"I know that feeling."

Her gentle laughter slid through him.

An older woman approached; her name tag proclaimed her a manager. 

"Kat, you can leave for your lunch break. Daniel is on his way. I'll finish assisting your customer."

A near gasp escaped him, drawing the attention of both women, and he turned away to feign a cough