She had seen all his films and could not tell which of her was the one she loved. Well, maybe the one about the princess who breaks out of her golden cage and goes to Hamburg for a day to stroll unrecognized through the streets and along the harbor. And, of course, a great man meets ...
But Hamburg was far for a princess like Cecilia, who had grown up in a Mediterranean country. She had studied in Switzerland. Not long after her graduation, she was already given the first representation duties by her father, the king of the country. On some days, her appointments were so filled with visits, receptions, galadians and premiere visits that she hardly ever got into the gym. The hairdresser, her personal trainer and the designer walked in and out of the castle to keep Cecilia's appearance on the same level as the gazettes around the world were acclaimed as exemplary. There was hard work behind it.
She learned from her secretary: "Director Jaime Busquet is in the city, her father will receive him today, Royal Highness, he wishes you to be present, and the artist is expected at 7.00 pm."
The mangofilets and the fresh cheese for breakfast did not want to slip, Cecilia was too excited to eat. She had her coiffeur Aristide come and thought about the dress in which she should meet Jaime Busquet for the first time. She knew his gestures, his appearance and his interesting face down to the smallest detail from the media.
The great moment came quickly. The reception of the world-famous director and his two stars should be crowned by a small unofficial dinner. They were a mature diva and a Latin lover. Apart from her father, Cecilia's 19-year-old brother Christopher and the minister of culture of her country, along with his wife, would also go to the table. Cecilia had chosen a nude-colored cocktail dress with corsage, which gave her delicately tanned complexion a positive effect. A long dress was not required, although the round diva would surely carry one.
She had not been deceived: the diva appeared melodramatic in a purple satin robe and radiated a great self-assurance. And then He bowed to her, "Your Royal Highness, I am honestly delighted to know you personally, you know my love for the nobility." "Oja, Mr. Busquet, welcome us," Cecilia replied, looking deeply into his eyes, which in reality were still more glowing than she had already dreamed. Whoever had determined the table layout: He had done well! All the same in Cecilia's sense, because Jaime Busquet was placed at her side. She represented her mother, the queen, who was staying in the sanatorium. Only Cecilia knew that this was the clinic of a famous Geneva beauty surgeon, whom her mother had visited every five years.
The conversation with the elegant, but unconventional dressed director, whose dark curls hung over the shirt collar as suspected, ran at a high level. Like many artists, he was very versed in his profession, and he had all sorts of knowledge in his conversation partners. The minister of culture, who was sitting on the other side of Cecilia, tried to intervene several times and to shine with his knowledge. He completely ignored the exquisite Laughsterrine served as a starter. Cecilia, too, almost forgot the food, but she noticed with amusement the appetite of Jaime Busquet. His table manners were easy to get used to, but his eyes had already fallen before the second course.
She felt the palpitations of every sentence Jaime Busquet addressed to her, and she felt that he was looking deep down at the bottom of her soul with those compelling eyes that seemed to chase between jade green and anthracite. Finally, she took a heart and asked, "How long do you stay there?"
She learned that Jaime Busquet had not yet booked a return flight to Spain because he wanted to look for locations for his new film. Of course, he did not miss the opportunity to ask whether Cecilia had time to show him her country. She agreed with pleasure, but said she could do it only within her narrow time. But he would gladly accompany her the next evening to a theater visit, in which the royal family was expected.
His radiant smile rewarded her for the faux pas - and made her brave for the next, which of course all noticed. She gave Jaime Busquet her hand as a farewell, and he did not kiss the comme il faut, but pressed his glowing lips on her backs. After that, they were both embarrassed as caught sins. During the night, Cecilia could not sleep and could still feel his mouth on her skin for a long time.