His Royal Majesty : A Royal Wedding Romance

by Cassandra Bloom

  From what Ivy could tell, he didn’t seem to have been in a serious relationship with anybody, ever. There were no photographs or articles about him with the same woman, twice. Again, Ivy tried to remind herself that she’d met the original source, but the more she read, the more it left her concerned that Travis wasn’t genuine about wanting more than just sex.

  Were these women all one night stands? Casual week long relationships before he sent them packing on their way? Casual hour-long hookups that barely spoke?

  Why did these women fall for him? Did they really all just want one night with Travis Dunn? Was he that good in bed that one night with him was worth it? Was he that worth the bragging rights?

  Ivy didn’t stop searching. She couldn’t. Even as she knew it would do nothing for her well-being, she kept reading. 2 a.m. turned into 3 a.m. Soon, she would have to just go into work having pulled an all-nighter.

  She scanned through websites and photographs and trashy online magazine. They all blurred together, a well-endowed woman with him, smiling stupidly, arms around him.

  Then, finally, Ivy saw that one particular woman was photographed with him three times. They were the same three pictures, old and pixelated…seemingly from at least two decades ago. They certainly hadn’t come in the smart phone era.

  With her heart racing, Ivy dug deeper, getting swallowed in the deep dark hole of the internet till she found a short article which made her squint. She read it quickly, then read it again, till she was reading it for the third time and knew that she wasn’t just imagining it.

  The article had the same photograph with it. A younger Travis, with the same features, the same smoking hot body but just a fresher face, a happier expression…a more genuine smile. It seemed to be a personal photograph, like a family picture…one that was not taken by the paparazzi. A close up of Travis, with his arm around a beautiful brunette. They were both smiling at the camera. The woman’s long curls were in Travis’ eyes but he didn’t seem to mind.

  She didn’t have the same super-model-like qualities that Ivy had seen in the other women Travis was photographed with. She had a more natural, no-makeup look, with large green eyes, and a strawberry shaped smile. They seemed to be the same age, in their early twenties. It was clearly a picture from before Travis became a successful and wealthy businessman. It was clearly a picture of when Travis seemed like a genuine human being, not a cool, distant big shot.

  Ivy read the article again. Her name was Mia Kazinsky and the write-up stated that she was Travis Dunn’s long-time girlfriend and recently engaged. Travis had left for a tour in Iraq, and they were supposed to get married after he returned. By all accounts, it looked like the happy marriage for the rest of his life.

  And then Mia died in a car crash while he was away.

  That was all the article said, nothing more. It had been written around the time that Travis gathered investors for his new construction business and apparently, nobody else seemed to have written about this piece of history from his life again. Perhaps Travis had seen the article and clammed up. Perhaps he had threatened to sue the publication.

  Either way, though, that was all Ivy would get out of her research.

  Ivy curled up her legs on the chair and stared at her laptop screen in the dark. Travis had been engaged to a girl years ago. That was the last time, she could find any evidence of at least, that he had been in a serious committed relationship.

  What had happened to him after that? What kind of loss did he experience from Mia’s death that he was unable to commit to anyone else? Would he ever grow out of his grief, or was he destined to be a player for the rest of his life?

  And if he was serious about me, do I remind him of her sometime? Am I a replacement? Or was it real?

  She couldn’t even remember why she was spying on his life anymore. All she could do was stare at Travis’ smiling happy face, with Mia beside him. The last thing she wanted to feel after her visit to his house was sympathy. And yet, that was exactly what she was feeling for him. She didn’t want to be so bold as to assume that she had him all figured out, but at least she knew why he behaved so strangely with women. With her.

  But what was the point in thinking about him now? She shut her laptop and climbed back into bed again. It was over. It was a short period of madness in her life and with any luck, she wouldn’t have to see him ever again.

  But even as she gazed at her clock and saw her alarm would go off in barely over two hours, she had a feeling she would see him again.

  And, frankly, she hoped she would. As much as it pained her to admit, maybe she didn’t understand the real Travis—but she’d seen enough that she wanted to meet the real Travis.

  She wanted to want what he wanted at the same time.

  Saturday and Sunday passed at the coffee shop with surprisingly no incidents for Ivy and Shelly. As much as she hated working the weekends—not even because it took up her free time, she knew she would never use it; no, it was because of the customers being more steady and especially rude—she got a reprieve from the usual grueling nature of those days.

  To make it even better, Martin never showed up. He just trusted the two girls to run the shop, or, more likely, he had just disappeared for the weekend and gone somewhere else.

  In any case, though, Ivy didn’t have to worry about work confounding her time either. Which was just as well—Saturday felt like a contest to see what would win first, Ivy’s lack of sleep, or her willpower to stay awake.

  By the slimmest of margins, she won out. And when she got home, she passed out so quickly, she didn’t even have time to engage in her newfound hobby of searching for Travis Dunn and seeing what would pop up.

  Sunday didn’t have nearly as much of a drag as Saturday did, in part because Ivy slept nearly twelve hours the night before.

  During those two days, she found herself hoping that Travis would come in. She didn’t know what she would say, or even if it would do any good. More likely than not, it would just result in awkward conversation, a decision to leave things as they were, and nothing more. And yet…

  On the slim to none chance that he would apologize, that he would want to see her again, that he would give her what she wanted—which, by now, she felt pretty sure was a good, satisfying first time sexual experience—it was worth thinking about him coming in. Maybe if he did, she wouldn’t even get the chance to talk to him. It would seem rather brash to talk to him during her shift, and she knew that Shelly would likely say something.

  But what was Shelly, Martin, and this silly coffee job when Travis was around? She didn’t want to think of Travis as a bank or an ATM, but it was undeniable that he had a lot of money and would take care of her if things got serious. It was a perk, not a feature, but that didn’t mean Ivy didn’t think of it.

  For all her hopes, though, nothing came during the weekend. She knew she couldn’t be too disappointed in it, but just because she knew it didn’t mean she actually felt no disappointment. Instead, when she closed up shop on Sunday, she went home wondering if there was ever a chance of him returning.

  The alarm went off on Monday at 6 a.m. as it always did. Ivy groaned as she rose. At least it’s my Friday, she thought, but then she had another thought come to mind. Her job gave her distraction, it pulled her away from thinking about Travis and their… well, she couldn’t call it a relationship. Dynamic? Partnership? No word seemed to fit.

  If she had off, she’d probably wind up doing what she did the previous weekend, imagining him with her and placing her in all of the Netflix movies and documentaries that she consumed.

  But, well, maybe she would benefit from the time off. Somehow. She hoped.

  When she got to work just minutes before her shift began, her phone buzzed. It was a local phone number, but not one that she recognized. She ignored it and declined the call.

  Shortly thereafter, the phone rang again. Ivy was seconds away from leaving it in the locker when she looked. Again, it was the same number.

 
And again, she declined it.

  She went through her morning shift without a worry, treating it like all the rest. She had a slim amount of hope that maybe Travis would appear, what with it being a weekday—a Monday at that—and all, but he never appeared. The man from the week before who had threatened her and felt the wrath of Travis made an appearance, but he must have remembered Ivy, because he meekly ordered his drink and exited before Martin or anyone else called him out for entering the property.

  When it came time for her lunch break, she headed back and looked at her phone. She had yet another phone call from the number she didn’t recognize. Curious, she checked her voicemail and listened.

  She had to run outside so she could scream with excitement.

  “Good morning, this message is for Ivy Zimmerman,” a polite female’s voice began. “My name is Audrey with Logic Designs. Miss Zimmerman, I’m happy to inform you that we’ve moved you to the next round of interviews and would like to schedule you for one final in-person interview. If you can please give me a call back…”

  Ivy quickly wrote down as much information as she could, her hands shaking. A real job. A real job with salary, benefits, and time off. Weekends off. No more crappy shifts.

  It could really happen.

  She danced a little two-step outside, but then reminded herself she hadn’t actually gotten the job yet. She’d advanced farther than she ever had to date, but she wouldn’t get paid for interviewing for the position. If anything, it just meant that the competition for the job had become much stiffer. She would now go against girls and guys who had marketing and digital artistry in their backgrounds and education, not just as a passion.

  She nervously picked up her phone and dialed the number Audrey had given her, taking careful care to check at least three times to ensure its accuracy. The phone rang, and Ivy felt like a first grader who was about to ask her crush out.

  “Logic Designs, this is Audrey.”

  “Audrey, hi, good afternoon, this is Ivy Zimmerman,” Ivy began, doing her best to keep her voice professional and courteous. “You had called me earlier about interviewing in person?”

  “Oh, yes, hello Miss Zimmerman!” Audrey said, putting Ivy at ease. She did her best not to smile too hard, but she couldn’t help herself. That, and she needed a break of some good news for everything that had happened in the last week. “Yes, you’re interviewing for the digital marketing associate position, is that correct?”

  Ivy nodded, then nearly slapped herself. Audrey was on the phone, not in person.

  “Yes, yes, that’s correct.”

  “OK, perfect. Well, I’ll tell you what, Miss Zimmerman, I have times available this Thursday, in fact, if you can come in then. I know it’s short notice, so if you cannot make it then, we have spots next week. Are you free this Thursday?”

  It had taken every ounce of energy for Ivy not to excitedly interrupt Audrey and inform her that yes, she was free on Wednesday. It was her day off from the coffee shop!

  She felt glad she hadn’t, though. She could easily imagine Audrey wondering why a girl seeking this kind of position would work as a barista. Better to just not say anything that might make her look bad.

  “I am, I am,” Ivy said. “Any time is good for me.”

  She wasn’t sure that she should have said that, but then again, it wasn’t like Logic Designs figured Ivy was employed.

  “Good, how about 1:30 p.m.?”

  Ivy agreed, and Audrey gave her further instructions.

  “We look forward to seeing you at that time, Miss Zimmerman, have a wonderful day.”

  It’s already a wonderful day with something like this, Ivy thought as she waltzed around. She almost went back into the coffee shop before realizing that she had, in fact, still another 45 minutes or so before her shift resumed.

  She ate a sandwich at a nearby shop, feeling comfortable with a slight splurge. It wasn’t much, just a philly cheesesteak, but on a day like this, with news like this, Ivy wanted to celebrate. She wanted to have a little something. If she couldn’t have a drink, she’d have a mini cheat meal.

  She headed back to work shortly after to a coffee shop devoid of most customers. She began cleaning the shop, humming to herself. When she finished, she went behind the cashier. She heard a man clear his throat, and she said, “Be right with you.”

  Then she turned around and gasped.

  “Travis,” she said.

  “Grande Dark Roast, please,” he said, his voice distant.

  Ivy scrunched her eyes at him. He made no other motion.

  “Did you hear me?”

  He didn’t sound aggressive when he spoke, just rather matter of fact. It disappointed Ivy to see him like this, but she had a job to do.

  “I, yes,” she said weakly, feeling pressure in the moment. All of the good vibes she’d felt from the interview grab had vanished under the heat of Travis’ eyes. “Grande Dark Roast, correct?”

  “Yes,” Travis said, again distant.

  “Anything, uhh, else?”

  Travis shook his head. He handed her his card and Ivy swiped it. She remained in silence for just a few moments before she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  Travis shrugged, his hands in his pockets as they always were.

  “Fine,” he said. “Business is good.”

  “I see,” Ivy said.

  She hated that he was so distant. She didn’t mind if he was a bit cold to her, especially after she had shrieked at him twice, but did he had to act like it was the worst thing in the world to talk to him like this?

  “Travis,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play dumb, please,” she said.

  She kept her eye at the door, aware that Martin would return any second as well. She’d dealt with enough grief from him that she didn’t need to risk her job while going through a job interview.

  “There’s nothing going on, Ivy,” he said. At least he used my name. At least he’s going to not pretend I’m a complete stranger. “I don’t have much to say to you.”

  Ouch, OK, maybe I should’ve pretended to be a stranger.

  “So… that’s it?” Ivy asked.

  “What do you mean?” Travis said nonchalantly.

  “I mean… us,” she said. “Is that it?”

  Travis shrugged.

  “I brought you to my office. I misread you there. I invited you over, thinking I would give you what you wanted. Then you again turned the tables on me. I don’t know what else there is to it, Ivy.”

  Ivy sunk at the register as Travis moved to the side to grab his coffee. She didn’t know what felt worse, the way Travis spoke or the accuracy of his words. No matter what he said, she seemed to have no rebuttal.

  “Have a good day,” he said as he walked out the store.

  Just like that, huh? We end not with a bang, but a conversation barely resembling such a thing.

  Ivy sighed, supposing that she’d brought this on herself.

  All she could do now, she figured, was focus on what she had control over.

  Which did not extend to Travis Dunn.

  But there’s plenty more.

  Travis couldn’t help but think about Ivy as he walked out of the coffee shop and to his skyscraper of an office. He had sworn that he would be the image of stoicism when he saw her, unaffected by her presence, and as far as appearances went, he felt he had done his job.

  But inside, as soon as he saw her, he had felt a rush of excitement unlike anyone since…

  He still couldn’t face the implications of that, but the thoughts got stronger and stronger with each passing moment.

  Nevertheless, as a Marine, he knew how to temper his emotions and keep them in check while he worked. He had been coy and blunt, telling her that that was indeed it.

  But it wasn’t. And Travis could explain why with one simple fact.

  If that was truly all there was, why had he
deliberately gone to see Ivy Zimmerman when he had about a dozen other coffee shops he could have tried, none of which would have had the emotional implications that the one Ivy worked at did?

  He could have pretended that it was just him being a creature of habit—which he most certainly was—or him not thinking about it before he walked in, but he was certainly done with stuff on one count.

  While he didn’t play games with other people, he knew he was guilty of playing games with himself. And that would stop immediately. Travis Dunn would have to start being truthful with himself as much as he was with the rest of the world.

  He made his way to his office, nodding at his secretary. He moved with some haste to the back of his elevator, keeping his exchanges short. His rush had little to do with Ivy and more to do with the final task of getting one of his major partners set up.

  Because awaiting him at the elevator was the CEO of Logic Designs, Richard Thomas.

  “Mr. Dunn,” Richard said, extending a hand. “Pleasure to see you this morning.”

  Richard Thomas was one of the few people who had Travis’ height. He did not, however, have Travis’ build, as age seemed to have cursed him with a larger belly and gravity seemed to have won the battle to pull his gut down. Still, he carried himself with a sort of exuberant demeanor that complimented Travis well, for Travis had soon adopted his stoic, blank business face that unsettled many.

  Not Richard, though, who saw right through Travis’ approach.

  “Likewise, Richard,” Travis said. “Shall we?”

  Richard nodded as he got in the elevator. Travis punched the button and the elevator whisked to the top.

  “You’ve made quite a name for yourself, Mr. Dunn,” Richard said, sounding awed and impressed. “The work that you’ve put in to get to this point is very impressive.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Travis said.

  At this point, the negotiation was nothing more than a mere formality. Travis and Richard had simply gotten together for a photo opp, which one of Travis’ assistants would take, already waiting inside his office. The number of privileges that assistant had had to earn to reach Travis’ office without the CEO present were simply staggering, but such was the cost of being a highly functioning CEO.