His friends guffaw at that, but their collective amusement shifts to surprise when the boy sitting across from me exclaims, “Holy shit, aren’t you the princess?”

I let out a deep sigh of exasperation. “No need to bow. You can just leave me alone.”

“Can we take a photo with you?” one of the latest arrivals asks excitedly.

“You can try,” I reply, exhaling again. They glance at each other in confusion at my cryptic response.

I pull the black hood back fully, revealing my long hair. The group of boys take it as an invitation to crowd closer around the booth, and the one named Toby crouches down in front and holds his long arm out to snap a few photos of the six of us.

Just as he’s standing back up, the front door to the pub is slammed open, revealing the eight men who comprise my security team. They’re each dressed in full uniform and visibly armed. Looking at them, one would think they were here to rescue me from kidnappers in an underground bunker, rather than to pick me up from an empty, decrepit pub because I’ve had too many drinks to drive myself. Michael leads the squad, his expression thunderous.

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t invite them to your bar crawl?” I ask Toby.

He’s too stunned to answer.

“Let’s go, Princess,” Michael barks, coming to a stop in front of the booth that was once blissfully empty.

All five boys are staring at the new arrivals in obvious shock. Michael and the other members of my security detail are far from subtle; their mere presence is intentionally meant to be intimidating. Each agent sports a stern expression, a head-to-toe black uniform, and is toting an array of deadly weapons.

“Wish I could say it’s been a pleasure, boys,” I say acerbically before pulling my hood back up and sliding out of the booth.

I’m surrounded as soon as I stand, and the boys trip over each other in their haste to move away from the booth as they’re forced to back up from the protective wall my team forms around me.

“Did they take photos?” Michael asks as they escort me out of the pub.

“Yup,” I reply cheerfully.

Michael makes a sound of distaste and turns to Kevin, the newest addition to my security team. Just like in any hierarchy, this means he is inevitably given any undesirable task. “Wipe the phones,” Michael orders him.

Kevin complies, immediately turning around. The remaining seven agents continue marching along around me, and seconds later, we’re back outside in the cool night air. The downpour has retreated to a light drizzle.

We head across the street toward the two black SUVs parked haphazardly on the opposite side of the road.

“I took that one.” I point to the identical black car parked farther down the street.

Michael chuckles, his usual good humor restored now that I’m safely surrounded by security.

“Well, that explains it,” he remarks.