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“Never mind.” She waved a hand. “What I’m saying is, you have people to do this stuff for you.”
“Yeah.” That brow cocked up again, and he slid his hands into latex gloves like he’d done it a thousand times before. “And?”
“Annnnnd I would assume they make your sundaes for you.”
Obviously.
“Then you’d assume wrong. Contrary to what you seem to think, just because I’m a prince doesn’t mean I’m incapable of doing anything for myself.” He opened the freezer. “I bet a lot of things I do would surprise you.”
Despite her nerves, and her resistance toward him in general, she found herself leaning on the front of the freezer and saying with genuine curiosity, “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like…” He pulled a dish down from the back shelf. “I work here once a month.”
She pursed her lips. “How do people not recognize you?”
“Same way they didn’t in the club.” He touched his head. “We wear hats, and I darken my hair to hide the blond so no one realizes who I am. It’s a fun little escape.”
“I’m sensing a theme,” she said slowly.
“What kind of theme?” he asked, perching the scoop over the rocky road ice cream and lifting a brow at her in question.
“You’re like Jasmine, in Aladdin.” She pointed to the chocolate cookie dough ice cream on the opposite side of the freezer. “You like to pretend to be normal, like everyone else, because you feel trapped.”
He snorted. “I’m not Jasmine, and I’m not trapped.” He shrugged, digging the scoop into the ice cream. “Though I’d look awesome in her little blue outfit and would love to have a tiger.”
“You’ve watched Aladdin?” she asked, surprised he even knew what she was talking about.
“My little cousins love Disney,” he replied with a smile. “Especially Jasmine.”
“You have cousins?”
“Yes. They’re girls, ages eight and nine.” He got another bowl. “My mother’s sister was twelve years younger than her, so it was a big age gap.”
“What else do the girls like?”
He winced. “Putting nail polish and makeup on me.”
She leaned on the counter, watching him with fascination. She couldn’t help it. Picturing him playing with two girls who literally dressed him up was adorable and…enticing. “What else do you let them do?”
He scooped out his serving of strawberry ice cream. “Whatever the hell they want. It’s a great escape—” he broke off, meeting her eyes.
“Again, with the theme,” she said softly.
“Yeah, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a great way to escape the stress of the office and the decisions I have to make there.”
“What’s the last big decision you had to make?”
“It was against a hostile nation to the west of us. If they don’t back off on their missile testing, then we’ll be forced to respond accordingly.” He closed the freezer, his shoulders tight. “I have a feeling my warning won’t scare them off.”
She tensed. “What happens if it doesn’t?”
“Then the United Nations will get involved.” He lifted his head. “And that possible contract with Baker might get a lot more necessary.”
“I hope it doesn’t,” she said, biting her lip. She wanted the deal, yes, but not at the cost of others’ lives, and not at the expense of Leo’s country, which he so clearly loved.
“Me, too.”
He silently opened up the fridge, pulling out a jar of cherries. She blinked rapidly, because the booze had hit, and things looked a little fuzzy, and it almost looked like he held two jars instead of one. “So, what’s the secret ingredient?”
