Chapter Four

Ireneo tried his hardest to pay attention during the session.

Much of it didn't directly impact his tiny nation. Then again, he was a citizen of the world. He wholeheartedly believed the old adage, "A rising tide lifts all boats." He wanted every nation—well, except the ones led by tyrants and madmen—to succeed. From a business standpoint, it just made sense. The more people were thriving, the more they could do things like take vacations. And the more people took vacations, the more his island would be visited. Not everyone was a Big or Little. But odds told him the more people who traveled, the more that unique population would find their way to the island.

Beyond the business sense, it was just the moral point of view. People thrived in freedom.

The more freedom, the better.

So he paid attention, chimed in when necessary, and cast his votes on various resolutions.

His mind wandered some. He couldn't stop dreaming of his baby girl. He always looked for her when he came to New York.

It was ironic, he silently noted.

He was the king of an island nation dedicated to Littles and Bigs. Yet he still couldn't find his sweet girl back at home. It seemed like most of them were taken by the time they docked on those sandy shores. The Little Star—the cruise line that ferried visitors there—was good at matchmaking. If a Little was single upon boarding, there was a good chance they wouldn't be by the time Ireneo finally met them.

Because of that, he always kept a sharp eye out anytime he was in New York City. With a population that huge, statistics told him there were some Littles around. That didn't guarantee he'd meet them. But it made him watchful.

"Dinner now?" Tariq said.

"Yes," Ireneo said.

They were standing in the semi-circle drive, in front of UN Headquarters. Only certain vehicles were allowed that close, and the whole thing was overseen by a contingency of armed guards. There were far more practical entrances and exits, but the leaders loved the pomp and circumstance of this.

The flags of all the UN member nations flapped in the chilly fall breeze, the sound of them fluttering mingling with the clanking as the ropes and chains that tethered them banged against their respective poles.

Behind the leaving leaders and the awaiting limos, the UN tower loomed majestically overhead.

"Let me guess," Tariq said as he opened the heavy, armored limo door. "Italian."

"Of course," Ireneo said. He climbed into the backseat and smiled up at the chief of security. "The more authentic, the better. I'm talking some old school place that's probably owned by the Mob."

"This is New York City," Tariq said with a big grin that showed his perfectly straight, stark white teeth. "Isn't everything owned by the mafia?"

The king laughed. "Sixty years ago, maybe. RICO took care of much of that. Now the giant corporations run everything. The mafia is still around, but not nearly as big as they used to be." He grinned. "Hopefully they're still cooking up some of that good Italian food, though."

Tariq nodded, closed the door, and climbed into the front passenger seat.

It was time to escort the king to dinner.

***

Taylor felt like a new woman.

The company had rented a second hotel room that was being used as the employee breakroom and "hospitality suite." She'd taken advantage of the time she had it all to herself, using the shower after she'd gone shopping.

Now, with makeup on, new, properly fitting clothes, and even a splash of perfume, she felt like a million dollars.

She even had a hundred- and twenty-dollars left over. She'd tried to return it, but Amanda had told her to keep it. That would be on top of the pay she'd receive at the end of the day! And there were still several weeks left of the Assembly. She'd have this job every day they were in session! It was a dream come true.

She'd run several errands already that day, but they were as simple as getting lunch for Amanda and Bill and picking up some files from some guy in an office three blocks over.

She'd also spent an hour on data entry, working at a second computer Bill had set up at the table where he'd been plugging away all day.

Now, she was excited to be on her first assignment that would actually take her into the heart of the action.

It was her last act of the day. Once she completed it, all that remained was to go back to the hotel and collect her pay. Then, she'd be off until eight the following morning.

She was elated.

She actually had money for dinner! Her stomach was already growling as she thought about what she might feast on. She didn't want to be extravagant. She needed to tuck some cash back rather than blow through it all. But it had been so long since she'd had a treat. Maybe dessert was in order.

Maybe she could treat herself a different way, too.

She saw the small souvenir cart a block ahead and grinned. There was a pole with plush bears clipped to it. As she got closer, she saw they wore t-shirts that said I LOVE NYC.

She'd been wanting a stuffie so bad!

Surely it wouldn't hurt to treat herself to this one little indulgence.

She looked at the price, tried not to gasp, but then hurriedly fished out the cash. This wasn't a want, she reminded herself. This was a need! Every Little needs a stuffie.

She handed the money to the man running the cart, said thank you, and then giggled as she pushed her new friend into her equally new purse. She needed to switch into professional mode now, so it was best the bear was hidden.

"You can do this," she said, as nerves started to get the better of her. She'd been handed a pouch that went to someone named Ireneo Aristide. She'd read a quick summary of him and his nation. The man was an actual king! How cool was that? Taylor just hoped she wouldn't make a fool of herself. She'd never been in the presence of royalty.

"Calm down," she said aloud. "You probably won't even see him. Just give the satchel to the aide, get your pay at the hotel, and then go get something to eat."

And hug your stuffie, she thought silently. She giggled. She would get to eat and hug a stuffie? What a day!

It was shaping up to be an amazing experience.

***

King Ireneo was sitting at a table near the rear of the restaurant, his back against the wall.

He liked to have a view of the space before him. His security detail would weed out any threats, but he still preferred to see any and all incoming visitors. Not that he expected any here. Hardly anyone knew him, save for a few other world leaders he'd become friendly with at the UN.

And a few he'd become not so friendly with.

But with a faction gunning for his kingdom, it never hurt to be careful.

He was surprised when he heard someone say his name. He looked up from the exquisite tortellini and placed a half-eaten slice of garlic bread in the bowl. He'd rented out the small restaurant so he and his entourage had room to eat. The owners hadn't minded. That would be one big check.

Tariq had posted two men to guard the door, though they stood on the inside as to not draw attention from the street.

Ireneo couldn't help but laugh. He felt like one of those mafioso bosses in the old movies.

"Ma'am, the king is not receiving visitors at this time," the guard said.

"Yes, sir. May I just leave this for him? I'm with the Diplomatic Assistance Corporation. This is a very important message for King Aristide." She nodded, seemingly satisfied with herself at having delivered the short speech that she'd clearly rehearsed.

The king smiled even more. That girl was a cutie. The kind of cutie he'd like to take in his arms and put on his lap.

Mmm. She was an absolute doll.

"It is okay," he said, waving at his man. "We will accept the package."

"Thank you, sir!" she called excitedly.

He kept grinning. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen someone as adorable as she was in all his life—and he'd seen his fair share of Littles coming and going from his island. They were cuties, but no one compared to her.

"Let me…" She stepped forward, out of the doorway and into the restaurant, but tripped over a slight rise in the floor. She went down on her knees. The pouch flew from her hands and slid across the floor. It disappeared on the opposite side of the room, having landed under a table in the corner.

Her purse spilled, too, sending a plush doll and some cash to the ground.

"My stuffie!" she cried.

Ireneo sprung up quickly, closed the gap between them, and knelt by her side. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Or is it your highness? I'm sorry, sir. I've never been in the presence of royalty before."

"You may call me whatever you wish," Ireneo said.

It was taking every ounce of strength he possessed not to scoop this little cutie into his arms and shower her with kisses. She was stirring every Daddy desire he had and then some.

"Here is your stuffie," he said, picking up the little bear and holding it up. "I'm going to sit him safely in this chair. He'll be fine." He leaned in and said in a soft and paternal voice, "Maybe he wants to order some food."

The comment made her giggle.

Ireneo put the bear in the chair at the closest table and then stood. He reached out his hands. "Allow me to help you up."

She accepted the offer and staggered to her feet, wincing slightly.

"You hurt yourself," he said.

"Just a little, sir. I twisted my ankle." She sniffled.

He could tell she was struggling to hold back tears, and he assumed it was more from embarrassment than actual pain.

"There, there," he said patiently. "It's okay. There's no reason to be upset. Would you like to sit down and have something to eat? Perhaps something to drink?"

"No, sir. Thank you. I need to make sure you get that pouch and then I'll leave you alone."

"I'd prefer you stay," he said, smiling deeply into her eyes.

She giggled but blushed instantly.

"Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am King Irenea Aristide of Isla Solara. At your service." He bowed slightly as he took her hand in his and kissed it.

She giggled even more.

"Nice meeting you, Your Highness. My name is Taylor Jane."

"Well, Ms. Jane, you enchant me with your presence. You would do me a great honor if you would stay and eat with me." He swept his hand back toward his table.

She looked at it and then to him again. "Sir, I'm worried my bosses would get mad at me."

"Then it will be our little secret," he said with a wink.

She giggled again and nodded. "I'd love to, sir."

He bowed his head slightly before raising it again and saying, "Your stuffie is invited, too. We'll get him whatever he wants."

She clapped her hands together. "I just met him, sir, but I bet he likes cake."

"Then cake he shall have."

They began walking toward the table but stopped when the security chief approached.

"Your Highness," Tariq said. "We must check her for weapons. And that pouch."

Ireneo sighed but finally turned to Taylor. "Do you consent to this?"

"Yes, sir. I don't have any weapons," she said.

"Of course you don't," the king said. "This is just a formality." He nodded at Tariq.

Tariq produced a wand from the inside of his blazer and said, "Please hold out your arms. I will run this over you. Front and back."

Taylor did as requested. A staticky noise emitted from the device as it began to glide a mere inch away from the top of her head. Tariq intended to run it over every inch of her, head to toe.

"Who did you say you work for?" he asked.

"The Diplomatic—"

She never got to finish. An explosion rocked the room with chaotic thunder. A heat radiated from under the table the pouch had slid beneath. Smoke filled the air.

And then darkness descended upon Taylor.