Waking Rory

by Elizabeth Jeannel

  “I’m positive she’s not an illegal immigrant…” He scoffed. “No, she doesn’t have any identification on her… You’re sure? And what do we do with her in the meantime? Yes, I can manage just fine, but that isn’t the point… Yes, I have a niece her age… Yes… For how long? I’ll see what I can do. Thank you, Paul.”

  He got up. I darted back to my room as quick as I could, trying desperately not to make any noise. He was going to give me the short version anyway, but that didn’t matter. Nash didn’t like it when I eavesdropped.

  I lunged for my bed the moment I made it into my room, and reached for the first thing I could find. My sketchbook, but it wasn’t even open by the time Nash stepped in. So much for acting natural.

  “Oh, good,” Nash sighed as he stepped in. “You’re awake.”

  “What’s up?” I asked, tossing my sketchbook to the side like I’d actually had it open.

  “It looks like Rory will be staying with us for a while. My lawyer has been in touch with the officer in charge of her file and…” He sighed. “It looks like they’re having trouble finding any record of her in the system. So for now they’re treating her like an immigrant, and the placement system takes some time.”

  I was a little shocked. That wasn’t the short version, even though he’d left out the part where they thought she was an illegal immigrant. I had a feeling neither of us felt like taking on that subject.

  “Okay.” I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

  “I think she’ll be a lot happier here with us than in a shelter, so…” He let out another tired sigh. “I guess you can talk to her?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  He nodded back and tapped my doorframe before stepping back out.

  I’d only just stood when Rory stepped into my room.

  “Heard all that, did you?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Are you…okay with that?”

  She hadn’t said much on the subject. I think she’d hoped we’d never be a part. I wanted that. I did. It just terrified me.

  “Do I have a choice?” She shrugged; gosh, I was rubbing off on her way too much. “I thought that… maybe…”

  “I want you to stay.” I felt a hitch in my breath. “But I also want what’s best for you.”

  “And you think that it is not you?”

  I nodded, looking down. I couldn’t look at her.

  “You don’t...” She let out a shaky breath.

  I looked up. Her bottom lip was quivering in that way it did when she was anxious. She also had the hem of the pajamas I’d bought her in her hands, twisting it.

  “I don’t what?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, quickly darting from the room.

  I tried to follow her, but I heard the lock of her door latch before I could even get out of the room. What the hell had I done now?

  Chapter 26

  I was back in the woods, and I was running. My feet weren’t moving as quickly as I knew they should I could run faster than this. Why couldn’t I run faster than this?

  My heart was racing. There was somewhere I needed to be, and fast.

  The wind was howling, I could hear twigs snapping off in the distance, and other footsteps echoing all around me.

  “Even?” I heard Rory’s voice echo, followed by a shrill scream.

  My feet wouldn’t go faster. I couldn’t get to where she was. I couldn’t—

  “Even?” I heard Rory’s voice, and I was instantly awake. “Are you okay?”

  I sucked in a shaky breath. I was sweaty again.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a—”

  “Bad dreams?”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Me too,” She said meekly, shutting the door behind her.

  “I’m sorry—” we both said at the same time.

  “Come here?” I asked, holding my arms out wide.

  She didn’t hesitate. Her legs curled up with mine and she let out a soft sigh the moment her cheek touched my chest.

  “Better?” I laughed.

  She nodded.

  I let out a sigh.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

  “Life, I guess. The future.”

  “What about it?”

  “I don’t know.” I let out a laugh. “I guess I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”

  She craned her neck to look at me in the dim light. “You don’t?”

  I shook my head. “I really have no clue. Something creative, maybe. What about you? What do you want to do now that you don’t have a kingdom to run?”

  “I like working at McCoy Enterprises, actually.”

  “What?” I giggled. “No way.”

  “Yeah, I like the people, and I feel like… I feel like I’m helping.”

  “Well, I mean, if that’s what you want to do, I guess you’re lucky you know the owner’s niece, huh?”

  She shrugged.

  “What do you think you want to do there?”

  “I think I’ll be an intern.” She sighed.

  I tried not to laugh. She was being so serious.

  “Oh, honey.” A sigh escaped my lips. “People become interns because they want to do something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, Elaine was an intern once, now she’s the head of Public Relations in Lyon.”

  She let out a huff and aggressively tucked her head back under my chin. “I don’t know what I want to do, either.”

  “That’s okay, you have time to figure it out.”

  I started running my fingers through her hair, and she was asleep soon after.

  Chapter 27

  Rory was ecstatic, having learned that not only would the gala be a big party, but it would also be a ball. Once Elaine mentioned the dance floor, Rory couldn’t stop talking. She didn’t often talk about her old life, which I’d grown accustomed to, though I wished I could have earned her trust enough.

  But balls, those were something she went on and on about the entire ride home. She talked about how big they’d been, calling people from every kingdom nearby. The fashion was a topic that lasted nearly half the drive home, and she was still on the dancing when Henry pulled up in front of the house and gave me a playful nod.

  She was still talking about one ball in particular she remembered from right before she went to sleep as we walked up to the house.

  “You have to make sure there’s traditional dancing. Something beautiful, non?” She smiled as I set down my stuff and headed to the kitchen for a snack.

  “I’m sure people will dance.” I shrugged as I made my way back to the couch with a handful of grapes and sat down. I watched as she twirled around in the baby blue knee-length chiffon dress she’d donned that morning. She wasn’t much for the monochromatic ensembles a lot of French people were into these days.

  “You too, I would hope. You cannot plan it and sit out all night.”

  “Oh, I don’t dance.”

  Rory stopped, her shoulders slumped over ever-so-slightly and she turned to me with a look of pure horror on her face.

  “You don’t?” she asked.

  I shook my head, a playful smile toying at the corners of my lips. She was so shocked by this, and the puzzled expression that fell across her face was absolutely adorable.

  Nash walked in the front door just then, looking from Rory to me.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Non, it is not!” Rory groaned. “Even does not dance.”

  Nash let out a chuckle and shrugged. “They don’t let you dance in cuffs.”

  Was that a joke? I threw a grape at him as he made his way to the kitchen.

  “What? It’s true!”

  “This is not funny!” Rory continued, “How can we have a ball if we do not dance?”

  “I’m sure everyone will dance but Even.” Nash smirked, poking his head back in. “She tends to hide in the corner at these things, anyway.”

 
; “I do not!” I did. I shrugged. “I don’t even know how to dance.”

  “I will not allow it,” Rory huffed softly, putting her hands on her hips. “Will you dance with me?”

  I groaned as I considered it. While I would love nothing more than to have Rory so close in my arms, twirling her around like I had in my dreams, the idea of actually dancing, tripping, falling, making a fool of myself, kept flashing through my mind. I puzzled too long. She threw her hands in the air.

  Nash stepped back in, munching on a bowl of cereal. “Come on, Ev. It’s just like riding a bike. It’ll all come back to you.”

  “Dance with me,” Rory pleaded, coming over and sitting on the couch. She took her hands in mine and made this pouty face she’d been working on all week, pretty much since we’d watched Avatar. “Please?”

  It worked perfectly. How do you say no to that face? That adorable puppy dog face, and those big blue eyes, and those pushed-out lips that are just inches from your own.

  “Okay,” I sighed forcing a smile. “Teach me the ways of the Force.”

  She frowned.

  “I’ve got to find a copy of Star Wars.”

  Rory dragged me to my feet and into the center of the living room. Much to her luck, and my dismay, there was plenty of room.

  “So, what do I do?” I sighed.

  “Your hand goes here,” she said matter-of-factly, setting my left hand on her hip.

  Then, right in front of Nash, we were pressed together, our faces only inches apart. I looked up, but Nash was on his phone. I felt my throat dry out, my breath shaking as I looked back down at her. My hands were sweating already, and we weren’t even moving yet.

  She started stepping from side to side. I was pretty sure we were supposed to join our other hands, until she reached her left hand under my right and started raising it, then let it fall. Once, twice, three times.

  Rory slipped from my arms, turning one way, then the other, returning my hand to her hip as she forced me to shimmy around the room like I should have known what I was doing. She did the hand thing again, this time with my left, forcing my right hand onto her hip.

  She turned again, around me, with me, around me again. When she finally slipped her hip back into my left hand, she also slipped her hand into my right one, where I’d originally thought it should be. Then we were turning, doing some two or three-step shimmy thing. It looked great when she did it, but I could hardly keep up. Every time I tried looking at my feet, she’d lift my chin again.

  She finally did a few turns under my arm before she stumbled into my arms, or maybe my arms stumbled into her. I couldn’t be completely sure. But our labored breaths mingled together for a moment before a laugh escaped our lips.

  “Nobody dances like that,” I whispered.

  “Non?” She smiled. “You just did.”

  I felt my cheeks grow even hotter.

  “Did you study dance, Rory?” Nash asked, popping his head around the corner.

  We practically jumped apart, and Rory nodded to him.

  “It was part of my studies.” She smiled, looking between the two of us.

  I was sure she’d only looked at me to confirm she’d not said the wrong thing. I shrugged.

  “That was beautiful. Maybe we could find your old teacher.”

  Nash ducked back into the kitchen. It felt like Rory and I both let out a breath at the same time.

  “You want to go do some more planning?” I swallowed. “For the gala.”

  Rory nodded, her eyes never leaving mine.

  I grabbed my stuff from the couch, waving to Nash as we headed to my room. Once we were in and the door was shut, Rory was in my arms, her lips on mine, her hands in my hair.

  She pulled away. “Please say you’ll dance with me at the ball.”

  “Gala.” I smiled, biting my bottom lip.

  She rolled her eyes and tilted her head at me.

  “Okay, I will dance with you at the gala.”

  She grinned, stretching up to kiss me again, just as I heard Nash’s footsteps in the hall, and tossed her toward the bed while reaching toward the closet.

  “Hey, Ev.” he said, poking in his head. “Any dinner plans?”

  I shrugged. “No?”

  “Great, Autumn’s picking something up.”

  “Autumn, huh?” I smiled.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing, not a thing. She’s just been spending a lot more time around lately. The whole summer, really.”

  “Well, she’s my assistant, so—”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He cleared his throat and slipped back out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 28

  One week until the gala, and things were falling into place, orders were arriving, and everything was confirmed. This was the time for catastrophes. This was the time when everything went to shit, it all fell apart, and everyone started to panic.

  But that didn’t happen.

  There was no major mix-up with the linens, there wasn’t a shortage of some rare menu item, and all of the auction donations arrived on time. We weren’t rushing about fixing this or that. We were on schedule.

  How was that possible?

  I chalked it up to Elaine’s impeccable organization skills and Rory’s help with literally everything I did. Elaine told me things were running smoothly because of me—I knew better. I couldn’t have done all this alone.

  What I hated, though, was that I despised McCoy Enterprises less and less each day. It wasn’t just that I got to spend all day with Rory. Planning the gala was fun, even if I wasn’t looking forward to actually attending it. In fact, the only part of the gala I was really excited about was seeing Rory in her dress.

  The dresses had been delivered the Wednesday before the gala, which cut things rather close, but you couldn’t rush perfection, I suppose.

  The day before the gala was my last official day of the internship. We would only be in France for three days the next week. Nash insisted we would need that time to pack and get settled. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

  Elaine and I did one last run-down of our checklist to confirm times, people, orders, catering, and the seating chart. Most of it was exactly as it had been, everything seemed in order, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so she sent Rory and I home early, before it was even time for lunch.

  I was really going to miss her.

  With all the work we were doing on the gala, I’d had little time for fun. I think that was the point of the internship, and maybe even why Nash had insisted I help with the gala. The gala had taken over most of my life, and I felt like I barely had time to spend with Rory, even when she was curled up next to me every night.

  When Henry got back to the house, Rory went off to change, and I went for another cup of coffee. From the kitchen window, I could see the pool glistening in the hot sun. It called to me like ice cream after a long day and coffee in the morning. Here we had a pool, a large pool with a deep end and everything, and I’d yet to use it once all summer. At the very least, I had the rest of the day.

  I set down my cup with a grunt and headed off to my room to change. Rory knocked just as I slipped on my one-piece suit, poking her head in.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Swimming. You want to come? I have another suit.”

  “Okay.” I reached back into the closet and grabbed the two-piece I’d most likely never put on.

  “I’ll meet you in the living room.” I smiled while she eyed the suit curiously.

  It was a good minute before I heard her coming down the hall. It’s not like she had a lot of experience putting on bikinis. When she stepped into the living room a few moments later, I found it hard to look at her, but even harder not to. She looked dangerously good in a bikini. Whoever said princesses were picture perfect was absolutely right.

  “First things first,” I choked out before clearing my throat, “we both need sunscreen. Between your porcelain skin and my p
asty nonsense, we’ll both be lobsters by lunch.”

  “Lobsters?” She frowned.

  I shook my head, a laugh slipping out my lips. “Just turn around.”

  I sucked in a shallow breath. Any time I touched her; it was intoxicating. Her skin was smooth and soft, and just looking at it made me want to kiss her all over. And here I was about to smear sunscreen all over it. There was so much exposed skin. Like, an entire back of exposed skin.

  I’m a weak sack of shit.

  “You okay, Even?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “Mhmm.” I nodded, forcing myself to squeeze the sunscreen onto my hand.

  I let out a deep breath, and just went for it.

  Listen, I know putting on sunscreen isn’t supposed to be an intimate thing. But when the person you’re putting sunscreen on can make your stomach tie in knots just by existing, it takes simple tasks to a whole new level.

  She turned as I finished with her back, and wordlessly took the bottle from my hand before squeezing some of it into her own.

  “Your turn,” she whispered.

  My knees nearly gave out, but I swallowed hard and turned around, grabbing my hair, and pulling it out of the way. I still hadn’t removed the cover I was wearing. Was I shaking? I was shaking. Rory had never seen my scars before.

  “Even?” she whispered after a moment.

  I let out a breath and took off the cover. And then I waited. I waited for the gasp that usually came any time someone saw my naked legs, feet, and back. I waited for the tuts, or the questions. But they never came. She just smeared the sunscreen on my back like there wasn’t a stretch of bubbled, scarred skin from my hip nearly to my shoulder.

  “All done,” she said softly.

  When I turned, she was smiling like nothing was wrong. Nothing had changed. Nothing about my back made her feel awkward or queasy. Which made me feel more accepted than I ever had.

  We finished putting on sunscreen. Rory laughed loudly as I dabbed it on her face, leaving huge globs on her nose, which basically started an all-out sunscreen fight until we both had far too much of it on our faces and in our hair. But we were giggling and happy. So, I left the cover on the floor as we headed out to the pool.