Royal Bastard

by Avery Wilde

  “Cold feet, huh?” my boss snorted. “Well, this is just great. I gave you a chance, April, and what did I tell you before you left?”

  “Not to screw it up,” I mumbled. “But I didn’t. Everything was perfect.”

  “You’re fired.”

  “W-what?” I asked, stunned. “You’re firing me over this?”

  “Yeah, I am,” he said, then ended the call.

  I sat frozen, staring at the empty room as my entire career flashed before my eyes. I was fired. I’d never been fired in my whole life. The asshole who I’d busted my tail for over the last five years had just discarded me like it was nothing and over something that wasn’t even in my control.

  Tears blurred at my eyes and I threw the phone onto the bed, grounding my eyes with the palms of my hands. I would not cry over this. I had sworn to myself long ago that my crying days were over. I was stronger now, able to handle situations like these in a manner that didn’t make me want to cower in a corner. Now don’t get me wrong, I still wanted to throw something, but now that I wasn’t going to be able to afford it, it probably wasn’t the best idea to have a meltdown a la Crystal Wagner.

  So what was I going to do? I had no idea. Without the commission for this wedding job I had nowhere near enough to pay for that lease on the building I had my eye on. Without the building space, I couldn’t open up my own storefront to advertise my business. My tiny apartment wasn’t a good place to conduct a professional business from and I’d never be able to compete with my now ex-boss. It was like I was starting from scratch all over again.

  “I hate my life,” I said, standing up. All I wanted was the perfect job, the white picket fence, and the husband that looked at me adoringly like I had watched countless men make moon-eyes at their brides on their wedding day. I wanted the happily ever after like in my books. Didn’t I deserve that? Was it too much to ask?

  My eyes teared up again as I grabbed my suitcase and pulled out some comfortable clothes that I had thought I would never have to wear on this trip. I needed to go downstairs and start the painful process of getting all of the setup torn down.

  My hand landed on a t-shirt and I paused, a little laugh escaping my lips.

  No I didn’t. I didn’t have to do shit!

  That was my boss’ problem now. I didn’t have to do anything except put my feet up and enjoy the last days of my stay in the luxurious hotel. My ever-strict boss liked to make sure everything was paid upfront so that he could monitor the money that was coming out of his business, so my room was paid for up until after the reception. I could relax a bit longer while I tried to figure out what to do with my life and what my next move would be. I was a grown woman, I’d been through worse and this little blip wasn’t going to defeat me.

  Grabbing my clothes, I hurried to put them on before sweeping my hair up into a ponytail, opting to go sans-makeup; I had no one I needed to impress anymore. It was early and if I hurried, I could get down to the restaurant before it filled up with breakfast patrons. There I could get my head together, enjoy a nice breakfast and then, well…the sky was the limit.

  6

  CONNOR

  I saw her before she saw me. As an early riser, I was usually up in the gym before five A.M., which used to drive Crystal insane, whining that I wouldn’t lounge around in the bed with her until ten or eleven like she would. It was in my DNA to get up and work out, honing my body and taking care of it so that my football career could surpass what was expected of my position.

  As a quarterback, I took my fair share of hits; my knee was surgically repaired in college and my throwing arm was not as great as it used to be. Now don’t get me wrong, I still enjoyed a wild night out—like last night—and found myself struggling to turn down a good greasy burger and fries on occasion. But in my business, you had to be vigilant about your body.

  My muscles were still burning from my grueling workout as I walked into the hotel’s breakfast restaurant and noticed the fiery wedding planner tackle a large plate of pancakes doused with syrup. She was dressed plainer than I had seen her before, her t-shirt and jeans a bit out of character for the luxurious hotel. I liked that she seemed as if she couldn’t care less, giving her another nod in my book. Crystal had to look damn near perfect to even go out to the store, but this woman, well, she looked vastly different and I was surprised to feel a sudden bout of lust shoot through my body; longing to know more about what made her tick.

  Putting on my famous ’I can fuck you with just my grin’ expression, I eased over to her table and pulled out a chair without asking her first. April glanced up, and for a moment I saw a slight presence of a smile but it was instantly replaced as she realized it was me—anger flaring up in her eyes. Great, she was still pissed at me, but I wasn’t going to back down, and maybe her hatred of me would work in my favor. “Hey.”

  “Leave me alone,” she shot back, spearing her pancakes with her fork.

  “How are you this morning?” I tried again, enjoying the fact that she hadn’t thrown anything at me yet. That had to be progress, but I kept my cup of coffee out of her reach just in case.

  She put down her fork and sighed, a cloud of sadness and hurt drifting across her face; feelings I didn’t care to see. She couldn’t still be hurt that I’d called off the wedding? It meant she got a day off, she should be pleased. But maybe there was more to it than that; not being able to showcase all her efforts… she wouldn’t get her moment to shine.

  I was an idiot. Of course it was that. I couldn’t imagine working my ass off all season, be one step away from going to the Super Bowl and then WHAM having it all stripped away from me at the last minute.

  No wonder she didn’t want to see me. But there would be more weddings for her to plan…

  I’d seen her work hard, someone with pretty damn good ideas and with buckets of patience to deal with people like Crystal that I couldn’t ever imagine having. She had taken all of the changes in her stride, no matter how much I was sure she wanted to punch Crystal in the face, her smile never wavering. Until now.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, feeling the need to know what the hell was bothering her and help make it better again. Even though I hardly knew her, I hated that she’d ended up collateral damage.

  “I… just go away,” she forced out, turning her attention back to her pancakes.

  I knew I couldn’t let this go, I wanted to cheer her up. And if I could kill two birds with one stone, then all the better. I needed for her to take the honeymoon tickets from me so I could put my final plan in motion and get the bet wrapped up and become eighty grand richer. The money was shit, but the premise of showing those assholes that I could commit was much more important. My reputation was on the line, even though they probably didn’t really care, but I was tired of being labelled as a man who was running scared from commitment.

  “Come on,” I tried again. “You can tell me.”

  She let out a hollow laugh that made me feel uncomfortable… she was more than pissed, she was downright sad. “You want to know what’s wrong with me? Why is that?”

  “Because I feel like I’m probably responsible,” I replied, running an uneasy hand through my hair. It was a given that I’d completely ruined months of work on her part. I shouldn’t care, but dammit those sad cocoa-colored eyes were damn near killing me.

  She shook her head in disbelief and pushed away her half eaten plate, a small giggle escaping her lips. “You know what, you are one-hundred percent right. You’re responsible for me getting fired from a job that I loved doing, one that gave me great satisfaction. What the hell am I supposed to do now? It’s all your fault, so why don’t you leave me alone and go disappoint someone else today?”

  I opened my mouth to make some smart ass retort, but the look in her eyes, the hurt in them stopped the words from coming out. Shit. I had gotten her fired. That wasn’t the intention. What kind of asshole fired their employee over a groom splitting on his wedding anyway? Surely there was some type of rule or law aga
inst that.

  “Hell,” I finally said. “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen. Maybe I can call your boss—”

  “Don’t bother, you’ll only end up making it worse I’m sure,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping as she pushed back her chair and stood. “Goodbye, Mr. Haden. Have a great life.”

  I stood up and threw some bills on the table before following after her, watching those swaying curvy hips walk away from me. I couldn’t lose this bet and I had to make it right somehow. “Wait, April.”

  She turned around and frustration prickled upon her face. “What? What more do you want to do to me? You’ve ruined my life, so what more do you want?”

  I swallowed, realizing my first answer probably wasn’t the best one to blurt out in this moment. Hell, I wanted to push her up against the nearest wall and fuck her until the sadness left her eyes and they were blazing with passion. The urge had sneaked up on me so suddenly that it was all I could do not to reach out and take her right there. “I feel responsible for this.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replied, turning to go. Without thinking, I reached out and touched her arm. She stopped instantly, and didn’t pull away. “It does matter, dammit,” I said, reaching into my back pocket and extracting the envelope I’d been carrying around. “Here, take this. Everything should be paid for but if not, just charge it to the room. You’ll be alone to enjoy the sun and sand by yourself. Curse my name and everything I am during that time, I don’t fucking care. I won’t be there to hear it.”

  “I already told you I don’t want your—” she blurted out, finally shaking off my touch.

  Blocking her way, she nearly collided with me as I stepped in front of her and put the envelope in her face, where she had no choice but to look at it. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Will you leave me alone if I take it?” she asked, looking up at me, a resigned tone in her sweet voice. I nodded and she snatched it out of my hand, and brushed past me to leave. I grinned, finally one step forward… she was definitely going to go, there was no doubt about it. One look at the brochure I’d tucked inside, along with the teaser of the first class plane ticket and the extra excursions that were already booked, she wouldn’t be able to resist.

  I eyed her ass again, swinging from side to side as she disappeared down the corridor… she would look fucking sublime in a bikini and I couldn’t wait to see her half naked.

  Now all I had to do was get to the getaway island undetected.

  7

  APRIL

  I pushed the door closed and leaned against it, clutching the enveloped Connor had given me—my stomach flip-flopping and my breath ragged. Why did he have to ruin my breakfast? Hadn’t he already ruined the rest of my life as well? And now this. He’d been so close, inches away from my face… and those eyes, the way he stared at me…

  Determined, I shook my head. I would NOT like him like that.

  With a sigh, I moved away from the door and walked over to my open suitcase lying on the bed, throwing the envelope inside. I could still feel the touch of his warm hand on my arm, the goose bumps that had suddenly appeared due to the temperature difference of our skin. But I knew it wasn’t just the temperature that had caused the reaction. If it had been, my heart wouldn’t have been racing, my mouth wouldn’t have gone dry, and fuck, my cheeks certainly wouldn’t have flushed with desire.

  Unfortunately, I knew those feelings all too well as my mind drifted back in time, remembering my high school sweetheart, who just so happened to be the star of the football team, too. One bad boy was enough for one lifetime…

  My eyes strayed to the envelope, my curiosity piqued over what was inside. One little look wouldn’t do any harm. Did it really contain the ticket to paradise or was it just some crude joke he was playing? I bit my lip. Did I dare to even open it?

  Grabbing the envelope, I ripped it open and pulled out a brochure for a place called Echo Cay Island Resort, a plane ticket tucked inside with instructions on how to get it changed into my name.

  He’d been telling the truth. It was all here. I sat on the bed with the brochure in my hands and flicked through the pages, stunned.

  The flight left tomorrow evening, bound for Belize, with further details of another flight to the island itself. The brochure showed little huts out on the later surrounded by paradise, with stairs that led to crystal-clear blue water. The insert boasted about the great excursions available, from in-room massages to snorkel adventures all included in the price. It looked like a dream, once in a lifetime spot, a great place to have a honeymoon, a place that I could’ve never imagined myself being able to afford.

  I couldn’t go, could I? Did I have the guts to put myself first for once and take him up on his offer and go enjoy myself for two weeks? It wasn’t like I had anything else to look forward to. I had no job, no idea where my life was heading and I still hadn’t figured out my next step… unless you counted going back home to an empty apartment and watching daytime television, eating ice cream while moping around trying to come up with a plan.

  I looked down at the plane ticket peeking out of the envelope and smiled as some of the weight from the past few days lifted from my shoulders. This was totally doable. I could check out early, drive back home and then pack for the tropics. It wasn’t such a bad idea after all; I could allow myself this little break. After all, I deserved the vacation, and I’d never had the chance to go on my own honeymoon… so why not take advantage now? It was what Connor wanted, he obviously didn’t mind one little bit. I could consider it a bonus of sorts… But could I do that to another bride? Then I thought about all the horrid things she’d put me through, the nightmarish last few weeks with her constant demands and whining. She’d land on her feet, she was the type to do so, and so I started to pack my bags.

  I would luxuriate in my two weeks in the sun, then write Connor a postcard, thanking him. It was the least I could do for his generosity.

  “Ms. Matthews, would you like some more champagne?”

  I looked up from my Kindle and blushed at the flight attendant, hoping she couldn’t see what naughty romance I was reading. She nodded to my glass and I quickly held it out for a refill. After waiting until she walked to the next little cubby, I grinned broadly.

  This was the life.

  I had half expected to be rejected when I stepped up to the ticket counter that morning, for the woman behind the desk to laugh at me and tell me that the ticket wasn’t real, that it was all just a big prank. But instead she didn’t blink twice and made the change, handing me both my passport and the ticket, then pointing out the gate I needed to be at. I handed my suitcase over to her and a few hours later I was sitting in a first class seat on my way to paradise. It was still hard to believe.

  Sipping on my champagne, the delicious bubbles tickling my nose, I looked out of the window at the clear blue sky, my jitters nearly bursting through my calm demeanor.

  I couldn’t believe my luck, I was heading to a tropical island, a secluded one at that, and it was already paid for. The brochure promised the drinks would always be flowing, the service always on hand, and the sea always the perfect temperature for a dip. Not sure how they could guarantee that last bit, but I didn’t care, I sure was going to enjoy it.

  Idly, I wondered if Crystal and Connor would’ve been curled up together in this seat, giddy with excitement about their honeymoon if events had worked out differently. Or would they have been indifferent with each other, and nothing at all of what I would think newlyweds would be like? The latter was probably closer to the truth. The things I had learned about the couple during my time with them told me it wasn’t a happy, fairytale romance that every wedding planner dreamed of helping with. Perhaps it was a good thing Connor had broken it off, after all. I pushed thoughts of him away, not wanting to go down that road, and daydreamed instead.

  My own honeymoon would’ve been different, my lover beside me on the plane, with lust in our eyes, holding hands and never
wanting to be apart. There would be lots of kissing too, and not the kisses with the endless amount of tongue. No, these would be soft kisses that held the promise of things to come. I shook my head as I realized with a small groan that the man in my daydream, his face had taken on a resemblance to a certain cocky quarterback.

  Once upon a time I thought I had that romance, nearly had the dream wedding and honeymoon, the type of romance that my parents showed me was possible. But then disaster struck and they were killed in a car crash, my world turned upside down when I was twenty. I’d been on the cusp of my own perfect happy ending, my high school sweetheart ready to meet me down the long aisle in our perfect little church ceremony. We were young, everyone had said so, but not my mom. She knew that you had to not waste a minute of your life, had told me if I loved him to screw what everyone else was thinking and make ourselves happy. But then, in one instant, everything changed, it had been like I was trapped inside a glass jar, upended and shaken brutally, then finally left to fall, with no parents or fiancé beside me; my heart broken as I tried to pick up the shattered remnants of my life.

  And in a way, my own traumatic experience was part of the reason why I got into the wedding planning business to begin with. I wanted to give brides and their grooms the perfect day I never got to enjoy.

  I shifted in the seat and moved my thoughts back to the present. I had long ago locked those memories away, knowing deep down inside that keeping them at bay was for my own good, so I didn’t have to relive it all over again. Derek leaving me after my parents died, unable to handle me at my worst, was the reason I was cautious of who I dated now. I much preferred the bookish, quiet sorts; dependable… those that I would never have to worry about breaking my heart the way he had.

  Most of the men I’d dated were safe bets, all perfect husband material, but even though I had tried my hardest to make those relationships work, I ended up breaking them off in the end… I still needed the spark, craved the similar passion Derek and I had when everything was okay. Like the stirrings of desire I’d secretly felt when Connor had taken a hold of my arm. But no, he definitely wasn’t the one either, he was the opposite of safe. I was looking for a soulmate who would be the best of both worlds: stir my desires up into madness but who would also be there for me, no matter what… the perfect counterpart of the romantic sort. But that guy was proving hard to find; the elusive bastard.