Married to a Prince

by Calista King

  Her agent had told her it was for the lead role in an independent film. Laila didn't have a script or anything to work with beforehand as her agent told her it was only a go-see and not an actual audition. She was supposed to meet with the casting director who would interview her and see if she had the right look.

  When she got there, she knew something wasn't right. The audition took place in an apartment building with just the director, Lars Andersson. Laila felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up when she first saw him. He was skinny, with greasy looking black hair that hung over his brow like a curtain. The set up in the apartment was sparse, with only a beat up looking couch, wooden chair, camera, and a large bed occupying the space.

  The director sat on the couch with the camera positioned right in front of him. He motioned for her to stand before him and looked her up and down, raking over every inch of her body with his eyes. Laila felt like she'd just been violated and shivered involuntarily. Her instincts were telling her to run. This wasn't like any audition she'd ever been to before.

  "So why don't you make yourself comfortable on the bed right there," the director told her pointing to the bed behind her covered in black satin sheets. She gave him a double take before shaking her head. There was no way in hell she was getting on any bed for anybody, least of all some creepy director. She wished she would have Googled him before she came, but it never even crossed her mind.

  "No thanks," she said. "I'll stand."

  "But I insist," he said.

  "Well, I insist on standing."

  "Suit yourself then," he shrugged. He pulled over a clipboard with some papers attached and took out a pen from the front pocket of his shirt. "I'm going to ask you some questions first. Just some formalities to get out of the way and then we can get right into the good stuff," he said.

  Laila relaxed a little and nodded at him, feeing slightly better about this audition. Surely they wouldn't be asking me any questions if they were shady? she reasoned.

  "Are you over 18?"

  "Yes," she said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a head shot and her resume to hand to the director. She had used her rent money to pay for the professional head shots. Laila had thought of it as an investment at the time. She figured that once she got this gig, she'd make more than enough to cover it. Now looking around, she had doubts and didn't want to think about the $300 she spent.

  Lars glanced over the black and white head shots and smiled. "Nice," he said. "I'm going to need to see a copy of your driver's license or other ID to verify your age."

  "Oh OK sure," Laila said.

  "Next question: do you have any STDs?"

  "Ex-excuse me? What did you just ask me?"

  "Do you have any STDs?" Lars enunciated each word clearly and spoke slowly as if he were talking to an idiot. Laila was not only caught off guard by the question, she was getting pissed off at his attitude.

  "That's none of your business," she huffed. "What kind of a question is that?"

  "It's standard practice to ask about sexually transmitted diseases. I'm going to need for you to give me an answer."

  "NO!" Laila said.

  She really wanted to turn on her heel and storm out of that apartment, but she stayed put, angry at herself and the situation she found herself in. Laila needed the money. She had counted on it ever since her agent told her about a great opportunity to earn some cash. She was already behind on her rent and her landlady had already given her a two month extension. If she didn't come up with the rest of her rent, she'd be out on the street.

  "Snippy snippy," Lars said in a sing-song voice. He wrote something on the clipboard before looking back up at Laila. "Are your private parts shaved, waxed, or au natural?"

  Laila had really had enough. It was one thing to ask about STDs, but there was no way she was going to give this creep an answer to this question. He seemed to sense her anger which made him smile wide at her. His teeth were stained yellow and he had large under bite.

  "You really need to just relax, sweetheart," he said. "I'm gonna see it anyways, so there's no reason for you to get so angry."

  "Like hell you are!" Laila said. "I don't know who you think you are or what kind of audition this is, but I'm leaving."

  Laila picked up her purse and turned on her heel, and was just about to march out of the front door when he spoke to her back.

  "It's a pity really. You've got just the look we were going for. Perhaps you'd reconsider if I doubled your fee?"

  Laila stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around slowly and stared at the director. A slow smug smile stretched across his face as he knew he had her.

  "Did you say you'd double my pay?" Laila asked.

  "Easily," he answered.

  "What would I have to do exactly?"

  "Oh not much at all. I'll just need you to get naked and hop on that bed right over there," he said.

  "And then what?" she asked.

  "That's it."

  "That's it? You're gonna pay me all that money just to get naked and on that bed? I don't have to do anything else?"

  "For today."

  Laila didn't like the sound of that last part, but desperation made her overlook it.

  "I want the money today," she said, sounding braver than she felt.

  "Of course. Now be a good girl and start stripping."

  Laila swallowed the last bit of doubt she had, and nearly choked on it. Now was not the time to think about her morals or any other thing besides that paycheck. Feeling self-righteous wasn't going to put food in her belly or keep a roof over her head. Her job at the hotel was just barely enough to cover the bills her mom had left her. If she walked out on this job, she didn't know where another opportunity would come up where she could make this amount of money so soon, short of selling drugs.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She kicked off her black flats and her hands reached for the buttons on her jeans. She undid them and pulled the zipper down before sliding them off her legs. Next she grabbed the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her head and placed it on the floor besides her jeans. Laila was standing only her bra and panties.

  Lars let out a low whistle of appreciation, and Laila opened her eyes to find him ogling her body with barely concealed lust. It made her nauseous to have him standing there looking at her like that, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Lars adjusted the camera and trained it on her.

  "Okay, now the bra and panties," he said.

  Laila hesitated a moment, her doubts rolling over he again like a tidal wave. What if I'm making the biggest mistake of my life? she wondered.

  Sensing her hesitation, Lars pulled back from the camera lens and said impatiently, "I don't have all day here sweetheart. Either you take the rest off, or you can get dressed and leave."

  The threat of losing that paycheck worked like a charm, and Laila reached behind her and unclasped the hook on her bra, letting her soft, full breasts free before pulling down her panties and sliding them down her long lean legs.

  "Very nice," Lars said from behind the camera. "Now get on the bed."

  Laila walked the short distance to the bed and climbed on, sitting in the middle with her legs crossed and her arms crossed over her chest. She felt uncomfortable and vulnerable, but figured she'd already gotten this far, she might as well see the whole thing through. Lars got up from the couch and carried the camera over to the bed where he positioned it at a suitable angle.

  "You have a very nice ass, Laila," Lars said. "Why don't you turn over and lie on your stomach so we can get a better look at it?"

  Laila was on the verge of refusing, but one look at Lars told her not to even bother. If she wanted the money, she'd do what he asked. Reluctantly, she let her arms drop to her side and turned on her knees before dropping down onto the bed. She could hear the whir of the camera zooming in close on her ass.

  "Now get up on your knees and spread your legs apart," he said. "I want you to play with your pussy."

/>   Laila jerked up on the bed, anger staining her cheeks. "Wait a minute. You never said anything about playing with myself. You just said I had to get naked. I'm not doing that."

  "Do you want to get paid or not?" Lars asked.

  "Hell yeah I want to get paid, but I want our original deal. I'm not doing anything else." Laila crossed her arms over her chest again and glared at Lars.

  "Listen honey, I'm not going to pay you if you don't play with yourself. No one's gonna want to see a naked woman just lying on the bed."

  "I'm not comfortable with this at all. You lied to me."

  "You've got nothing to be uncomfortable about. You're a very sexy woman. Just pretend I'm not here and touch yourself how you normally would in the privacy of your own bedroom," he said silkily.

  Laila almost let herself be convinced to cross that line. She thought of all the bills piling up and the debt that she'd probably never get out from under. She still owed the hospital $20,000, not that she begrudged the cost. She'd have done anything for her mother, and paid for the best care available.

  The thought of her mother had her sitting up straight and stiff. What would Mom have thought about what I'm about to do? Would she be proud? She's probably rolling over in her grave, Laila thought sadly.

  "I'm sorry, I can't do this," Laila said getting up off the bed so quickly she almost knocked the camera from its stand as she rushed past Lars. She stooped to pick up her clothes and threw them on hastily before grabbing her purse and rushing out of the apartment, slamming the door hard as she left.

  Once she was out in the hallway she let out a shaky breath. "Sweet Jesus, that was a close one," she muttered to herself.

  CHAPTER 3

  Andreas awoke early the next morning. It was still dark out and he groaned as he looked at the clock on the night stand.

  "Ugh, 4:45," he muttered, rolling over onto the pillow. He was just about to fall back to sleep when his phone rang.

  "Hello?" he said, still groggy with sleep.

  "Good morning, Mr. De Berg," the cheery voice on the other end greeted. "This is your wake up call for 5 am."

  "Oh OK, thank you," he said, sitting up in his large king size bed, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. He hadn't gotten a good rest at all last night. The phone kept ringing off the hook with people calling the wrong number.

  Andreas pulled the sheets off his body and stood up stretching his 6'2" frame and rubbing the sore muscles on his neck. The mattress was a little too soft for his liking. He had a hard time sleeping on anything other than his own bed at home. It was something he had to get used to though. He didn't know how long he would have to stay in New York, practically in exile, but he would make the most of it.

  Normally, whenever he traveled, he had a whole entourage of handlers, sycophants, and a pretty girl or two to warm his bed. This time, it was just him. He knew he had to focus on work--anything else would just be a distraction. Andreas was not about to fall back into old habits. Besides, the less people with him, the less chance the press would have to discover his presence and hound him.

  He hopped into the shower, hoping to get an early start to his day. It was still new to him, this whole morning routine. He laughed to himself as he turned on the shower faucet thinking about the last time he was in New York. He was visiting a cousin who was attending New York University at the time. They had partied all night and didn't get home until 6 am.

  Andreas didn't remember much about that night. The next morning, when the head of his security told him about what happened, he learned of his close brush with scandal. One of the women he'd brought home with him had taken pictures of him passed out naked on the bed. What she was going to do with the pictures wasn't hard to imagine. Lucky for him, his security guard had confiscated the woman's cell phone and deleted all of the photos.

  He could just imagine his parents' faces if those photos had somehow ended up in the papers. His mother's pinched lips would turn down in a frown as she shook her head in disappointment. She wouldn't say anything to him, preferring let him sit and stew in his own guilt. His father wouldn't hold back though. He'd thunder and rage, the blood rushing to his face giving him the appearance of an angry tomato.

  Andreas had given Ulrich, his head of security, a hefty bonus that year. He'd saved his ass more times than Andreas cared to remember. He regretted not being able to bring Ulrich with him this time, but he had wanted to stay under the radar and having a personal security guard would be too conspicuous.

  Andreas hopped out of the shower and got dressed. He was scheduled to meet with his uncle and some board members later that morning to get himself acquainted with the business, so he had to look the part of a serious respectable businessman. He slid his custom made double breasted suit out of the closet and began to dress.

  One he had finished dressing, he checked his watch and realized it was only 6:15 am. Pierre Roubard's, the restaurant attached to the hotel, wouldn't open for breakfast until 6:30 am. He decided to make his way down there anyways. There was nothing more he disliked than sitting in his room with nothing to do. He was already a little anxious about his meeting later that morning.

  Andreas knew his reputation preceded him. Even though he wasn't the same man anymore, no one would take him seriously. They would think his interest in running the company was just some frivolous exercise of a spoiled playboy. He knew he had to work hard and prove himself.

  When the elevator stopped at ground level, Andreas got out and headed straight for the restaurant. If there was one thing that could help settle him down, it was a nice meal and a hot cup of coffee. The only problem was there was no restaurant anywhere in sight. He stood in front of a large empty space covered in white sheets, looking like it was under construction. "Just my luck," Andreas muttered to himself, walking back to the front lobby.

  She was standing there behind the counter with her head bowed down looking at the computer screen while talking to a co-worker. Andreas smiled to himself and watched her work undisturbed. She was beautiful. She wore her hair tied back away from her face in a ponytail again. He could see she didn't wear much make up, just a little bit of eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. She didn't need much. Her skin was flawless.

  Andreas shook his head ruefully. He wasn't looking for any flings. He'd promised his parents and himself he would behave, and he meant to do just that.

  ***

  She could sense his presence without even looking up. As he stood in front of her counter, she caught a whiff of his cologne. It smelled so enticing, a deep rich woodsy scent with a slight hint of mint. Her cheeks flushed as she felt his eyes on her. Corinne had stopped talking as soon as he came up to them. Laila snuck a glance to her right and almost rolled her eyes at the look on Corinne's face. Her mouth was practically hanging open and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

  "Ahem."

  The discreet cough brought Laila's eyes up and she looked at the man standing before her and almost matched Corinne's expression. Now she knew why Corinne looked like a drooling puppy dog staring at a bone. Andreas. Damn the man was gorgeous, she thought. If she found him handsome yesterday in his khakis and polo shirt slightly wrinkled from travel, then in a crisp clean suit he looked divine. Laila snapped her mouth shut when she saw a brief smile flit across his face. She wasn't going to make a fool of herself over a man, no matter how good looking he was. Especially since she was still stinging from his dismissal of her yesterday.

  "Hello again," he greeted once he caught her eye.

  "Good morning, sir," Laila answered.

  "Don't they give you time off, Laila?" he asked looking at her name badge. "You were just here last night, weren't you? And now here you are again bright and early."

  Laila didn't know how to feel about what he said. She couldn't tell if he was trying to insult her of if she should be flattered that he remembered her from yesterday. In the end, she bit her tongue and stuck on her most professional smile.

  "How may I help you?" she asked.


  "Yes well, this may sound silly, but I was making my way over to Pierre Roubard's for breakfast, and I can't seem to find it. There is just an empty space that looks like it's under construction."

  "That's because Pierre Roubard's is under construction," Laila answered. She heard Corinne suck in a gasp at the rude tone she had answered with. It wasn't like Laila meant to be rude, but the words had already left her mouth before she could moderate her annoyance.

  "I see," he said, contemplating Laila for a moment. "Is there any other restaurant you recommend? Preferable one that's open right now."

  "There's the Grammercy Lounge," Corrine cut in eagerly.

  Andreas looked over towards her as if noticing her for the first time. He gave her a glowing smile.

  "Where can I find this Grammercy Lounge?" he asked, still looking at Corinne. "I hope it's not too far from here."

  "Oh no not at all. It's attached to the hotel on the rooftop terrace. Just go up the elevator to the 28th floor."

  "Thank you so much for your help...Corinne," he said eying her name badge.

  Laila wanted to roll her eyes. She couldn't believe Corrine was acting like such a giddy school girl over this guy. The same Corinne who already had a boyfriend. For some reason, one that she didn't want to think about, it annoyed her that his attention was focused on someone other than herself. He came up to her first; Corinne should have minded her own business. So what if I' gave him attitude before, she thought irrationally.

  "No problem, sir. I'm happy to help. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask," Corinne gushed.

  "I most certainly will. Your customer service is superb," Andreas said smiling as he turned to walk away.

  Once he was out of earshot, Laila turned to scowl at Corinne.

  "Could you have been any more...desperate!" Laila said.

  "Huh? What are you talking about?" Corinne asked, looking at Laila confused.