Royally Damaged

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Royally Damaged Page 1

by Crowne, K. C.




  Royally Damaged

  K.C. Crowne

  Copyright © 2019 by K.C. Crowne

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Lizzie

  2. Philip

  3. Lizzie

  4. Philip

  5. Lizzy

  6. Philip

  7. Lizzie

  8. Philip

  9. Lizzie

  10. Philip

  11. Lizzie

  12. Phil

  13. Lizzie

  14. Philip

  15. Lizzie

  16. Phil

  17. Lizzie

  18. Phil

  19. Lizzie

  20. Phil

  21. Lizzie

  22. Philip

  23. Lizzie

  24. Philip

  Epilogue

  His Hose (Preview)

  About the Author

  Lizzie

  I looked out the window across the restaurant parking lot and caught sight of my best friend Christy's mom leaning against her car smoking a cigarette. She was dabbing at her eyes and even from where I sat, I could tell her mascara was smudged from crying.

  “Everything okay?” asked Adam, sensing my unease.

  I turned to face him just as he shoved an alarmingly large piece of steak into his mouth.

  “I think Louise is blubbering again,” I said, reaching for my glass of wine. “I'm gonna go check on her.”

  “Ah, don't worry about her. She'll be fine. Just relax, enjoy yourself. Today is all about us, remember?”

  I looked around the room at all the people who had come out to celebrate Adam’s and my engagement and felt a rush of warmth. Yet it was bittersweet, because the people I wanted to be here the most weren't.

  “I better go check on her,” I said, knocking back my wine as I stood up.

  “Don't,” moaned Adam, reaching for my arm. “It should be Christy's job to pay attention to her mom's amateur dramatics, not yours.”

  Ignoring him, I snaked my way through all the busy tables of the Italian restaurant we had chosen. The entire placed smelled like garlic and red wine and was filled with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses.

  Outside, I found Louise sparking her second cigarette as she checked her fake eyelashes in the wing mirror.

  “Hey.”

  She looked up, forced a smile, and ran to hug me.

  “Oh, Lizzie! You have no idea how happy I am right now. It's the best day ever. Just the best.”

  “You don't look happy,” I said, pointing to the tears streaming down her face.

  Taking the tissue out her hand, I blotted the tears and tried my best to clear up the eyeliner that was pooling around the bags under her eyes.

  “I've never been happier,” she said. “It's just that I'm so overwhelmed with it all, you know. What with Christy getting married in a few weeks and you getting engaged too. I feel like I'm losing my favorite two girls.”

  I pulled her in for another hug and kissed the top of her head.

  “We're not going anywhere, though, and Christy left home years ago.”

  “I know, I know,” she sighed with a sniff. “But she's all grown up now, and so are you. The both of you getting married, it just really thrills me.”

  She continued to sniff and blubber, and I couldn't help but think she was milking the whole situation. I surely had more of a reason to cry than her, what with neither of my parents being able to see me get married.

  “You're like a daughter to me, you know that?” said Louise as she took a long drag of her cigarette. “How long have you been best friends with Christy?”

  “Forever.”

  “Exactly, forever.”

  She took one last drag then dropped her cigarette butt onto the ground to join the others.

  “Forever,” she repeated and stared into the distance. “I'm just real sorry your dad couldn't be here. You must miss him terribly.”

  Why did she have to bring him up right then? As if the day wasn't emotional enough for me already, she just had to mention him. All she had to do next was talk about my mom and I'd be in tailspin of tears. To my relief, before she could say another word, the sound of high heels on asphalt interrupted us. We both looked up to see Christy teetering over in her stilettos, glass of wine in one hand and a piece of garlic bread in the other. How she got so drunk so early was a mystery to me although knowing her, she probably started long before dinner.

  “How did you sneak that glass out here?” I laughed.

  She shrugged and gave me a wink before cramming the crust of her garlic bread into her mouth. She always had the most peculiar ability to act like a slob and still look beautiful.

  “So, what are you two gossiping about out here? And Ma, are you smoking?”

  She shook her head and tutted.

  “Don't you know each cigarette takes eight minutes off your life?”

  “Aw shush, Christy,” grumbled Louise. “It's a big day and I'm emotional.”

  Christy took note of the crumpled tissue in her mom's hand and the smudged makeup.

  “Mom, you're not crying again, are you?”

  Louise was off again, sniveling as though she was at a funeral instead of an engagement party.

  “I can't help it,” she said. “I'm just so proud of you both.”

  Christy met my gaze and rolled her eyes.

  “Mom go back inside. Go enjoy yourself instead of standing out in the parking lot in the cold, chain smoking and crying like a baby. Please.”

  Louise nodded and dropped her cigarettes back into her purse.

  “I'm going to order the most expensive cocktail in the place,” she said. “And the biggest tiramisu.”

  “Sounds like a plan, Mom.”

  We watched her stagger back into the restaurant before speaking. Christy reached into her cleavage and pulled out a pack of Marlboros.

  “Chris!”

  “Shhh.”

  “You're shameless.”

  “Just don't tell my mom.”

  “I don't believe you!”

  She giggled and lit her own cigarette, making sure to face away from the restaurant window.

  “I've been looking everywhere for you,” she said, blowing out smoke into the breeze. “Where have you been?”

  “Out here with your mom,” I laughed. “What's up with her? Every time I see her she's got something new to cry about.”

  “Menopause,” said Christy. “It's really working a number on her hormones. She's laughing her ass off one minute then crying into a tub of ice cream the next. Anyway, I didn't come out here to talk about her. I wanted to talk to you about Adam.”

  “Ugh, no, Christy. Not this again. I know you don’t really like him, but please can you just forget about that today, for me. Can't you just pretend you like him for a few more hours?”

  She glanced over her shoulder toward the restaurant. I watched through the window as Adam sat at the main table, laughing and joking while his friends slapped him on the back.

  “Lizzie, I hate to tell you this but...”

  Her eyes darted everywhere but my face.

  “But?”

  “But I think I saw him flirting with one of the waitresses.”

  “Flirting? Or just being friendly?”

  She gave me one of her looks. It was the same look she gave me when I had caught Adam flirting with a girl the last time. It was the same look she gave me when I cried over him. It was a look that screamed for me to wake the hell up and sme
ll the coffee.

  “Definitely flirting,” she said.

  Suddenly, the joy of the day was sucked right out of me. I slumped against Christy and said, “Thanks for telling me. I know you probably didn't want to.”

  “I didn't. I really didn't, but I knew it was the right thing to do.”

  We both looked back into the window and saw him laughing even harder. He was having the time of his life, but he always was. He always got his way, had everything he wanted, was always the center of attention.

  “What do I do?” I asked her.

  “That's not for me to decide.”

  With a long acrylic nail, she flicked her cigarette end over the wall.

  “But you know what I think you should do. I've been telling you for months.”

  “I know you have. Fuck, I need a drink.”

  “Let's go back inside. With any luck, Mom ordered us both cocktails too.”

  Back inside, I tried to pretend everything was normal and perfect and that I hadn't just heard that my fiancé was flirting with a waitress at our own engagement party. Why do I put up with this? I thought. Why do I always let him treat me like crap? My stomach was overwhelmed with both a dark pit of sadness and a swirling rage. Around me, everybody was having a great time. They were all happy for Adam and me, all looking forward to our wedding day that was just around the corner.

  “Christy, I don't know what to do. I just feel so... so...”

  “Get yourself a glass of wine and just breathe, okay?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I took a deep breath, smoothed down my dress and returned to the table as though I hadn't just heard a bomb shell that made me feel like smashing a bottle of Chianti over his head.

  “Hey, honey, you okay?”

  “I'm fine,” I said.

  “Really? You don't look fine.”

  “I said I'm fine!”

  His friends all fell silent and looked away. Adam signaled with his eyes for them to take off and leave us alone. Once it was just the two of us again, he leaned in close and rubbed my back. My eyes fell on the tattoo of the Virgin Mary on his forearm and the anger in me intensified.

  “What's the matter, honey? Why you so mad? Did Louise say something?”

  He slipped his hand around my waist and I tensed up beneath his touch.

  “No, Christy did.”

  “Oh?”

  “She said you were flirting with a waitress.”

  He ripped his hand away and slammed it against the table.

  “What? That lying bitch.”

  “Adam!”

  “But why would she say that? I wouldn't do a thing like that, would I?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time Adam.”

  “And at our engagement party! What does she take me for?”

  He huffed and crossed his arms, looking out over the room to search for her.

  “What's she fucking playing at?” he raged. “What's she trying to do? Ruin our party? I swear to God your so-called bestie has never wanted me to be with you. She's been trying to split us up since day one.”

  Because she's just looking out for me, I thought. Because she loves me. I looked into his eyes and tried to search for the truth, but the reality was I knew it already. I'd always known what he was. Since day one, I always knew he thought of himself as an alpha male, as a guy no girl could resist. He loved himself to the point where I'd lost count of the times I'd stumbled across him gazing at himself in the mirror with pure admiration in his eyes.

  He was gorgeous and he knew it, and his good looks were only intensified by his arrogance. It gave him the appearance he was always in control, always on top, and always the most desirable person in any room. Of course his vast wealth and position as CEO at Peak Media was the cherry on top that made him irresistible, especially to young, impressionable girls who were dazzled by him.

  I was dazzled by him too at first. He had said all the right things at the right time and soon I was under his spell. Yet soon enough, the shine wore off when I started to smell perfume on his laundry and see him scurrying into the bathroom with his phone. He was always home late, always going out to business meetings at peculiar hours with people I'd never heard of. Then there were the times I'd caught him looking at women.

  For so long I tried to convince myself I was just paranoid and imagining it, but then other people started to see it too, and of course Christy was the first to notice his roving eye.

  “Can we forget about it for now?” I said, desperate to make sure he didn't blow up in front of everyone and cause a scene. There would be plenty of time for that when we got home.

  “Yeah,” he said, rubbing my knee. “Let's forget about it for now. Come on, drink up, babe.”

  He flashed his signature smile, but it no longer held any sway over me. In fact, thinking back to how I used to melt and fawn at that smile made me nauseous now. How in the hell did I let myself get this far with him?

  “Hey!” came a booming voice from behind us. “Look at you two love birds! Masel tov!”

  “Hey, Uncle Gert.”

  “My little niece getting married. I can't believe it. I still think of you as that kid always scootin' around on her trike.”

  He planted a kiss on my cheek that left my skin stinging where his mustache had been. I loved Uncle Gert, I really did, but there wasn't a man on Earth who could talk so much. I couldn't stand the idea of having to listen to him drone on about his model railway or his bird watching at the moment.

  “I have to go to the ladies room,” I said, trying to gracefully extricate myself. “Gotta touch up my makeup.”

  It wasn't exactly a lie. It had been hours since I'd carefully lay concealer under my eyes and I just knew it was creasing. As I walked away, I heard Gert begin a story about a time he saw a really big weather balloon, and I knew I was doing the right thing getting away.

  Looking around the room, I tried to find Christy, but couldn't see her anywhere, so I pulled out my phone to text her.

  Chris. Where are you?

  I waited for the seen receipt, and when it didn't show up, I ventured into the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I took a long, hard look at myself. The fluorescent light was not flattering, and I look washed out and ten years older than I should have.

  My hair that had been molded into soft, ginger curls that morning looked like straw, and my green eyes that I had made so much of an effort to line with liquid liner now looked dull. The day had exhausted me, but I wouldn't let myself get dragged down. I straightened my back and held my shoulders back.

  “You're still hot as hell. You know that, don't you?”

  I kept repeating it to myself , but I couldn't get the thought of Adam flirting with the waitress out my mind, and it was burning a hole in me.

  “You know he's cheating.” I told myself. “Why do you let him get away with it? When did you start letting people treat you like this?””

  Since my father died, most likely. Since Adam sidled into my life at my weakest point and snared me with his knight in shining armor act.

  “Get back out there,” I told myself in the mirror. “This is your party. You can't hide in the bathroom forever.”

  Tidying up my makeup, I sucked in a deep breath, stood up straight and walked right back out. To my relief, Gert had gone, but my heart sank when I saw someone else in his spot. A pretty girl no older than twenty with platinum hair reaching her bottom. She flashed Hollywood smile and stood a little too close to Adam for comfort. He grinned back at her and winked. I felt close to throwing up.

  Son of a bitch.

  For a second, I stood frozen to the spot, wondering why no one else noticed what was happening. I watched as she lifted a corner of the tablecloth and slid something beneath before walking away. Adam's eyes followed her swaying hips the entire length of the room until she disappeared behind the bar. I wasted no time and made a beeline straight for our table.

  “What was that about?”

  “What?”
<
br />   “That waitress.”

  “What about her?”

  “What was she doing?”

  “Bringing me a drink.”

  I looked at the table and just saw his already half-empty beer.

  “What drink?”

  “This one,” he replied, holding up the beer.

  “You've been nursing that for the last half hour.”

  “Alright, Detective, what's with all the questions?”

  I leaned in close and grabbed his arm.

  “I know what you're up to,” I seethed, my eyes burning with the threat of tears. “How fucking dare you? And at our own engagement party? You're a psychopath, do you know that?”

  He shook me off and forced a laugh.

  “You're nuts, Lizzie, and you're paranoid as hell. If I didn't know you any better I'd assume you were high right now.”

  I wanted to slap him, but with all my strength, I restrained myself. I would not give him the satisfaction of making myself look like the ass.

  “What did she slide beneath the tablecloth?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Nothing, Lizzie. You've gone insane.”

  Bastard, I thought. He's lying right to me face!

  I leaned across him and ripped up the corner of the tablecloth. Beneath it, a minuscule pair of panties that looked as though they wouldn't even fit a mosquito lay tangled around a sheet of paper. On it was scrawled a phone number written in lip liner.

  “You fucking asshole!” I cried.

  Adam's face blanched, but he still remained in denial.

  “This looks bad,” he said, his voice as haughty and steady as always. “But it's not you what you think.”

  “I’m not an idiot Adam and you won’t treat me like one. Not anymore!”

  I took off, dashing for the bathroom.. Blustering through the door, I fell against the sink and had to use all my strength to not burst into tears and howl like a wounded animal..

 

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