“Oh, no –” Mimi began, holding up a hand as Ronan pulled out cash. She never carried any herself, always had a tab opened and paid by her accountant at places she frequented –Although often her bill was waived. That was the strange thing about being a billionaire; people always wanted to give you things for free…She didn’t want to operate like that, anymore. Didn’t want to be indebted or used as advertisement. –But he’d already handed over the coins. “Thank you,” she hoisted her bag back on to her shoulder, “I’ll get the money back to you.”
“The thing is, Mr. Ludolf, I still don’t seem to understand the régles polies, ” she mirrored him, leaning against the counter and turning to face him so there was less space between them than Dubai would have liked. In low heels they were about the same height, their gazes level….She didn’t think he was used to women looking him in the eye. His charge was a little thing and, despite her very low centre of gravity, must be an absolute pushover to have fallen so hard for Alphonse’s lines. Mimi quirked an amused brow, “what’s your game?”
–A barista interjected to hand over her coffee. Mimi held Ronan’s gaze for a beat longer before turning to take it. “Are you babysitting, today?” She glanced around for the President’s kid, then realised she probably couldn’t pick the girl out of a crowd. “I’m sure she doesn’t need you to blow on her cocoa. Come sit?”
"Of course you will; don’t forget, I know where to find you,” Ronan teased. The money mattered to him, of course--money always mattered to him--but it was a scant amount, truly, in the scheme of things. Besides, he liked thinking that perhaps, the Monacan princess owed him something. Something small, to be sure; it was just the price of a coffee, nothing more, but it was a start. It was a favor Ronan didn’t think he’d call in, but the power play and dynamic between the two of them was entertaining, to say the least.
“Oh, I like all sorts of wicked games, Monaco,” Ronan purred, cocking his head slightly and surveying the woman standing across from him. They were playing a never-ending game of cat and mouse; Ronan couldn’t help but wonder if the predator would catch the prey, or if the prey would make a break for it. He didn’t understand the etiquette of most royals, despite having studied them for years, and tended to play by his own rules. “Ruthless ones that turn people against each other; ones that make you question your sanity and the solidity of your relationships. Us, though--something different. I can’t quite put my finger on whatever bullshit head games we’re playing with each other.”
“It would seem that today I’m babysitting you instead,” Ronan countered, stiffening slightly at the mention of Tatiana. He wouldn’t think about her today; a futile effort, truly. She captured his thoughts and attention much more than he cared to admit. He followed Mimi to a vacant table, grabbing his steaming espresso and trying to fight off the instinctive urge to search for his sister in the crowd. “Isn’t going to get your own coffee a bit beneath the whole royal glamour image?”
