Royal Pains

by CN Thornton

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER ONE

  "I still can't believe Mr. Anderson gave me an F on that last exam. It was totally B+ material, or at least a B," Bash said as we headed towards the college café across the prestigious Ludivine campus. It was basically Juilliard for extremely talented photographers, and I was lucky to attend with my best friend of eight years.

  Thanks to our shared fascination with photography, Bash and I had met during our first year at Lakeside Middle School in our elective class. Over the years, we had acquired new skills and refined them. By the time we’d graduated high school, we both had scholarships to Ludivine.

  Two years had passed since then and we’d formed a very successful business partnership.

  "Well, Mr. Anderson is pretty biased towards you," I said as we passed through the courtyard.

  "I really don't understand why." Bash grinned, his words dripping with sarcasm.

  I rolled my eyes. "It obviously has nothing to do with you calling his display—and I quote—‘imperceptive, a waste of time,’—oh and here’s the kicker—‘mind-blowing in the sense of losing brain cells.’" I laughed.

  Bash threw his arms up. "Oh, come on! It's not like I was lying. You can totally tell the lighting in his photo was nothing but a result of overusing photoshop, and he was balls-to-the-wall for his lecture on why natural light is and always will be the only way to go." He finished in a mocking voice with excessive air quotes.

  It was hard not to laugh at the bluntness of his comment. One thing about Bash—he wasn't afraid to tell you exactly what was on his mind, never bothering to sugar-coat his comments.

  "I don't disagree with you. I think it is very unprofessional and completely hypocritical to say one thing and do another. I just think you could've been smarter and said it behind his back like a normal person would," I said as I opened the café door and let him pass.

  "Why thank you, doll-face." He winked.

  We made our way over to the buffet and grabbed salads and sweet tea before settling over at a table off to the side of the room.

  "So," I began, "I received a cancellation from Jenna Avery for Wednesday evening."

  Bash let out an aggravated groan. This shoot would've made us eight-hundred dollars. That could have bought a new lens he had been pining over these past two weeks.

  "But there is that gig, the fashion-model underwater shoot," I added.

  His eyes widened and I could tell he was eager for more information. "I thought they had already found a replacement photographer?"

  "Oh, they did. Turns out the guy fell from a ladder during his last shoot and broke a rib or something," I replied matter-of-factly.

  "Book em!"

  The corner of my mouth quirked up. "Already did."

  Excited, Bash jumped up, pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the cheek. "You, Emma, are amazing!"

  "I forwarded you the information two hours ago."

  "You of all people should know that I never check my email. That's why I set it up so everything forwards to yours. You need to text me these things." He laughed.

  We spent the rest of our lunch eagerly calculating the money we would be paid. It was a twelve-hour job with twenty models and we had decided to take ten each. The job paid fifteen hundred per model, which would add up to over thirty grand very quickly.

  Our last class was a forty-five-minute lecture on photo-session odds and ends that ended at three o-clock. The subject today was proper makeup.

  If a model’s makeup wasn't done right and the photographer used their flash, the model could end up looking chalky with white streaks across the t-zone and jawline. It was pretty painful to sit through the slideshow of celebrities on the red carpet with white streaks running down their noses and jaws.

  After class, we gathered our notes and made our way to the parking lot. We climbed into Bash's 4Runner—a gift from his parents for getting into Ludivine—and headed home.

  We lived four miles from campus in downtown Seattle at the ALMIRA, one of the thirteen luxurious apartment complexes his parents owned. My parents were rich, but Bash’s were richer.

  The second I closed the door I went straight for the couch and kicked off my Converse. "Ah, that is nice." I groaned as I stretched out my toes.

  Bash went into the kitchen and returned with two tall glasses filled to the brim with blue liquid. He handed me one and took a seat beside me, looking gleeful.

  "To the beginning of a wonderful night." He raised his glass.

  I grinned and raised an eyebrow. "You are up to something, aren't you?" I asked mischievously.

  "I'm always up to something, Chicky. Now drink up." He raised his glass expectantly and I followed suit. "Adios, motherfucker," Bash chimed.

  "Adios, motherfucker," I repeated. I took a sip and shuddered, tasting the rum and tequila. "Wow, um, extra kick, yeah?" I coughed.

  "They don't call it an Adios Motherfucker for no reason. Just be thankful you aren't drinking a Redeaded Slut." My eyes widened. "You'd be knocked on that cute little ass of yours and wake up with your sassy mouth tasting like cheap peach schnapps." He scrunched up his face and stuck out his tongue in distaste.

  "Peach schnapps does suck."

  We finished our mixed drinks and then started mapping out details for the Wednesday shoot. We needed to make sure we took our waterproof gear since it was going to be an underwater photo shoot. When we finished, Bash suggested we get ready for a night on the town.

  The plan was to start at Trinity Night Club and then hop to Topanga's before settling in at the Silver Light Lounge.

  "Wow!" Bash wolf-whistled. "You look stunning," he said as I entered the room in a black dress that was form-fitting in all the right places.

  I’d originally wanted to wear a pink ensemble, but Bash insisted it wasn't spicy enough for the places we would be hitting up tonight. So it had been between red or black, and I didn't like how the red dress made my platinum-blond hair look—which had me regretting the drastic impulse change from my natural deep brown, since red was my favorite color.

  Bash gave me a twirl and then dipped me. "That little black number is going to have all the men dropping to their knees for you tonight."

  I felt myself blush, and smiled. "I'll make sure I pass a couple your way."

  "Only the ones with green eyes," he teased. He held his arms out and turned slowly. "So, now, how do I look? Dashing, I hope."

  Bash wore white skinny jeans, a deep-purple button-down, a white blazer and Converse that matched his shirt. With his chin-length, wavy black hair slicked back, he looked like a million bucks and then some.

  I crossed my arms as I eyed him. "Eh, you look alright. I've seen better though." We both laughed and I grabbed my purse off the small foyer table. "My feet are going to be killing me by the end of the night," I said as I finally slipped on
my four-inch heels. Wearing these pushed my height up to five eleven. Hopefully that meant no one under six feet would try and make a move on me. I didn't find short guys attractive and I wanted to avoid possibly emasculating a man by having to tell him he was too short for my taste.

  "I'm sure you can find a sexy someone to carry you home, if you know what I mean." He wiggled his perfectly waxed eyebrows at me as he opened the door.

  When we stepped outside I took a deep breath of the crisp evening air. From the musk alone, I could tell it would be raining soon. The rain was one of my favorite scents.

  We were supposed to take my bright-red mustang tonight, but a raindrop falling on my skin quickly turned me against the idea.

  "We should take your 4Runner; the 'stang has been having some electrical problems so the hatch likes to open up by itself and stick," I said just as I felt another drop.

  "Nah, let’s just take this." He gestured towards the sleek, black Escalade limousine resting at the curb right before us.

  My eyes widened. "No, we can't just take someone else's limo. I’m pretty sure that is illegal."

  Bash took my hand and pulled me towards the limo. "Live a little," he said as he opened the back door and stood aside to let me in. "Hurry, before someone sees."

  I quickly climbed in before I could let myself think.

  "Wow, this is pretty... nice," I breathed as I took a seat and looked around.

  Everything looked sleek and had a shine to it. There was a wet bar, a massive entertainment system and even a sun roof.

  "We are so going to get arrested." I groaned as Bash moved to the front and pressed a button that lowered the blackened window between the passenger and driver.

  "Trinity Night Club, please," he said to the driver.

  "Trinity is a no-go; it is closed for renovations for the next eight weeks," the driver replied.

  "Topanga's it is!" Bash said before clicking the button to restore the black panel. He gave me a wicked grin as the limo began moving. "Feeling criminal yet?"

  I rolled my eyes. "If we get arrested I am so telling them I met you at a bar and had no idea this was stolen," I half-laughed.

  He gave me a playful shove, then reached behind the wet bar and grabbed a bottle of patron. "Are you down for a bit of pregame?" He dangled the bottle inches from my face before opening it and taking a swig.

  "Seriously..." I murmured, snatching both the bottle and cork from his hands. "Bash, you need to think about what you’ve gotten us into. If we get caught—"

  "If we get caught, nothing. I was messing with you from the start; every limo in this company belongs to my cousin Marty. I called him up between classes to see if I could borrow one for the night."

  I blinked.

  "So, this limo isn't stolen?" I asked him, my brows raised slightly.

  Bash clapped his leg with his hand and guffawed. "Jeez, Emmaline, I can't believe you thought I would—" He had to pause as he began laughing manically.

  "You are an asshole." I chuckled, smacking him in the arm. "You honestly had me believing this was stolen." I took a small swig from the bottle and then replaced the cork. Just then, my cell phone buzzed from inside my purse. I held up my index finger and then fished it out before looking at the screen.

  It was my mother.

  "It's the Warden," I said to Bash and his face grew serious as he hastily turned the music off.

  Having been my best friend all these years, naturally he knew nearly everything on the subject of my mother. He knew we weren't close—that we were as far as two people could get without killing each other.

  I clicked a button to put her on speaker. "Mother," I spoke, doing my best to keep the disdain from cloaking my voice.

  "Emmaline, I have called to remind you of your appointments tomorrow. I have you set up with Dr. Logan—"

  I sighed, cutting her off. "Yes, mother, I remember. Dr. Logan at noon for my teeth cleaning and whitening, followed by Leigh Chang at the spa for everything else." I rolled my eyes.

  Part of the deal with my mother and her paying me was that I had to keep up appearances in her beloved high-society groups. The meetings were exhausting, having to appear primp and proper to snooty women. But the one thing I looked forward to was being pampered days before at all the best places on my mother’s dime. She always wanted me to look perfect, just in case a wealthy bachelor happened to cross my path.

  "Watch your tone, young lady," she snapped. "You need to remember that what you do, how you look and the way you conduct yourself affects not only you but me as well."

  Bash snickered and I quickly placed my hand over his mouth to muffle it, but not before the damage was done.

  "Who was that?" my mother asked.

  I glared at Bash. "Good evening Eleanora," he greeted in the most flamboyant voice he could manage.

  "The Almira boy?" my mother sneered, not bothering to hide her disgust from her voice.

  Bash cleared his throat, trying to cover up his laugh. Sixty percent of his entertainment came from trying his hardest to get under my homophobic mother’s skin, something he started after we overheard her talking at one of the meetings about how having a gay son in the family would inevitably ruin the Almira's business.

  "Yes ma'am, Sebastian Almira. My family—"

  "—is unfortunate to call you kin. Can you imagine the damage you have done to smear their name? All because you are sick in the head," my mother said belligerently—not that she cared about their reputation.

  "MOTHER!" I snapped.

  "Shut up when I am speaking, Emmaline. You should know better than to be hanging around the likes of him. People will be talking and wondering about whether you are gay too. I will not have society thinking I let my daughter behave in such ways."

  "In such ways?" I repeated. "Nothing is wrong with Sebastian liking guys. Love has no boundaries; plus, we can't help who we are attracted to."

  "We?"

  "Mother, I am bisexual. I am sexually attracted to both men and women and there is nothing you can do to change that. It is just who I am."

  My mother let out a screech-like cry and I heard something shatter on her end of the phone. "You will keep that disgusting talk to yourself or you will find yourself locked away for the rest of your life, you hear me?" she threatened.

  Mocking her, I laughed. "Do you hear the stupid shit that comes out of your mouth? Seriously, you act like I am afraid of your threats. Honestly, nothing is worse than having you in my life, which brings me to my point… I don't need you in my life!" I barked.

  "You need my money."

  "That's what you think. Last time I checked, I had a full ride at Ludivine, all expenses paid. On top of that, our rent is free and all we pay for is food and gas."

  Of course, I was stretching the truth a bit. My scholarship had only covered the first year, so the money my mother gave me each month went to tuition. "So like I said, keep up your attitude and I will cut you out of my life, for good. I stashed away all the money you've been giving me the past couple years so I have more than enough to live comfortably for the rest of my life," I lied smoothly. I didn't bother waiting for a response from her, just hung up and stowed my phone back in my purse.

  By the time I had calmed a bit, we had arrived at our destination. I was so stressed out from that one phone call, I was shaking. That was how conversations between my mother and I normally went. She would call to remind me of appointments and meetings and then bitch about how I chose to live my life until I snapped back and hung up.

  Bash was used to hearing it, but this was the first time my mother had harassed him like that for being gay. It was also the first time I had confessed my attraction to women to my mother—although Bash had known since our senior year in high school.

  "I'm so sorry for that." I took a small swig from the bottle of alcohol to lessen my nerves a bit. "I can't believe she came at you like that." My mother wasn't the type to confront people with her thoughts about them—me being the only exception. She
normally stuck to talking about others behind their backs, putting on her faux friendly persona to their faces.

  "You don't need to apologize; you can't help how ignorant your mother is. Anyways, forget her. We are about to have an amazing night." He opened the limo door and got out, extending his arm to me. "Shall we?"

  CHAPTER TWO

  I could clearly see the Topanga from where I stood. It was beautiful. Of course, it would be, since it was built to replicate the great ship Titanic in its design.

  When news of the Topanga had first reached Bash, he was instantly online and applying for a club card. Only when I’d read about the design had it piqued my interest. I loved going to clubs and lounges—mostly because it bothered my mother—but despised those that only allowed the elite—because I knew that wouldn’t bother my mother.

  For this, though, I’d had to come. I’d had to see.

  "It's like traveling back in time," I breathed as we walked the path towards the dock.

  "Without a doubt. Too bad they won't turn it into a cruise ship. Just imagine the money to be made."

  "Just imagine the money to be made by using this ship as a shooting location."

  Bash let out a groan that suggested he loved the idea. I was already making mental notes.

  At the end of the dock, an expensively uniformed man stood behind a podium on the ramp. A couple before us flashed him their card and he waved them through. When it was our turn I waited for Sebastian to show his and then we continued up the ramp and into the main foyer of the massive ship.

  "Wow," I breathed as I looked around.

  Peering through the masses of elaborately dressed people, I managed to get a decent view of the Topanga's interior. The architecture was intricate, tasteful even. Ten times better than I could have ever fathomed. It left me awestruck.

  "Drinks?" Bash suggested, and we made our way down the corridor towards the banquet room.

  The double doors were flanked by men wearing white gloves and suits with split tails, smiling and nodding to us as we passed. Then my heart seemed to take flight.

  "Oh my God, this is so beautiful." The floors, the walls, the tables... It was all art in my eyes. "I could never have imagined something like this would ever exist."