Throne of York

by Charlotte Byrd

  We didn’t exactly plan to end up at the same place, but it was a nice coincidence.

  He even asked if I wanted to be his roommate – but I had already agreed to room with Caroline.

  He ended up in this crappy fourth floor walkup in Hell’s Kitchen – one of the only buildings that they haven’t gentrified yet.

  So, the rent was still somewhat affordable. Like I said, Tom likes to think of himself as a working class hero even though his upbringing is far from it.

  Whenever he came over to our place, he always made fun of how expensive the place was, but it was always in good fun.

  At least, it felt like it at the time.

  Now?

  I’m not so sure anymore.

  “Do you think that Tom is really going to get married?” I ask Caroline while we’re changing.

  She swings my curtain open in front of the whole store.

  I’m topless, but luckily I’m facing away from her and the assistant is buried in her phone.

  “What are you doing?” I shriek and pull the curtain closed.

  “What are you thinking?” she demands.

  I manage to grab a shirt and cover myself before Caroline pulls the curtain open again.

  She is standing before me in only a bra and a matching pair of panties – completely confident and unapologetic.

  I think she’s my spirit animal.

  “Who cares about Tom?” Caroline demands.

  “I do,” I say meekly.

  “Well, you shouldn’t. He’s a dick. You are way too good for him. I don’t even understand what you see in him.”

  “He’s my friend,” I say as if that explains everything.

  Caroline knows how long I’ve been in love with Tom.

  She knows everything.

  At times, I wish I hadn’t been so open.

  But other times, it’s nice to have someone to talk to.

  Even if she isn’t exactly understanding.

  “You can’t just go around pining for him, Ellie. You can do so much better than him. You were with your ex and he just hung around waiting and waiting. Never telling you how he felt. Never making any grand gestures.”

  Caroline is big on gestures.

  The grander the better.

  She watches a lot of movies and she demands them of her dates.

  And the funny thing is that you often get exactly what you ask from the world.

  “I don’t care about that,” I say. “We were in the wrong place for each other.

  I was with someone and then I wasn’t ready to jump into another relationship right away.

  And then…he and Carrie got together.”

  “There’s no such thing as not the right time. Life is what you make it, Ellie. You’re in control of your life. And I hate the fact that you’re acting like you’re not the main character in your own movie.”

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I say.

  “All I’m saying is that you deserve someone who tells you how he feels. Someone who isn’t afraid of rejection. Someone who isn’t afraid to put it all out there.”

  “Maybe that’s who you want,” I say.

  “And that’s not who you want?” Caroline says taking a step back away from me.

  I think about it for a moment.

  “Well, no I wouldn’t say that. It is who I want,” I finally say. “But I had a boyfriend then. And Tom and I were friends. So I couldn’t expect him to—“

  “You couldn’t expect him to put it all out there? Tell you how he feels and take the risk of getting hurt?” Caroline cuts me off.

  I hate to admit it, but that’s exactly what I want.

  That’s exactly what I wanted from him back then.

  I didn’t want him to just hang around being my friend, making me question my feelings for him.

  And if he had done that, if he had told me how he felt about me earlier, before my awful breakup, then I would’ve jumped in.

  I would’ve broken up with my ex immediately to be with him.

  “So, is that what I should do now? Now that things are sort of reversed?” I ask.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, now that he’s the one in the relationship. Should I just put it all out there? Tell him how I feel. Leave it all on the table, so to speak.”

  Caroline takes a moment to think about this.

  I appreciate it because I know how little she thinks of him.

  “Because I don’t know if I can,” I add quietly.

  “Maybe that’s your answer right there,” Caroline finally says. “If you did want him, really want him to be yours, then you wouldn’t be able to not to. You’d have to tell him.”

  I go back into my dressing room and pull the curtain closed.

  I look at myself in the mirror.

  The pale girl with green eyes and long dark hair is a coward.

  She is afraid of life.

  Afraid to really live.

  Would this ever change?

  Chapter 4 - Ellie

  When you decide to live your life…

  “Are you ready?” Caroline bursts into my room. “Our cab is downstairs.”

  No, I’m not ready.

  Not at all.

  But I’m going.

  I take one last look in the mirror and grab my suitcase.

  As the cab driver loads our bags into the trunk, Caroline takes my hand, giddy with excitement.

  Excited is not how I would describe my state of being.

  More like reluctant.

  And terrified.

  When I get into the cab, my stomach drops and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  But then the feeling passes.

  “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” I say.

  “I know, right? I’m so happy you’re doing this with me, Ellie. I mean, really. I don’t know if I could go by myself.”

  After ten minutes of meandering through the convoluted streets of lower Manhattan, the cab drops us off in front of a nondescript office building.

  “Is the party here?” I ask.

  Caroline shakes her head with a little smile on her face.

  She knows something I don’t know.

  I can tell by that mischievous look on her face.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  But she doesn’t give in.

  Instead, she just nudges me inside toward the security guard at the front desk.

  She hands him a card, he nods, and shows us to the elevator.

  “Top floor,” he says.

  When we reach the top floor, the elevator doors swing open on the roof and a strong gust of wind knocks into me.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see it.

  The helicopter.

  The blades are already going.

  A man approaches us and takes our bags.

  “What are we doing here?” I yell on top of my lungs.

  But Caroline doesn’t hear me.

  I follow her inside the helicopter, ducking my head to make sure that I get in all in one piece.

  A few minutes later, we take off.

  We fly high above Manhattan, maneuvering past the buildings as if we’re birds.

  I’ve never been in a helicopter before and, a part of me, wishes that I’d had some time to process this beforehand.

  “I didn’t tell you because I thought you would freak,” Caroline says into her headset.

  She knows me too well.

  She pulls out her phone and we pose for a few selfies.

  “It’s beautiful up here,” I say looking out the window.

  In the afternoon sun, the Manhattan skyline is breathtaking.

  The yellowish red glow bounces off the glass buildings and shimmers in the twilight.

  I don’t know where we are going, but for the first time in a long time, I don’t care.

  I stay in the moment and enjoy it for everything it’s worth.

  Quickly the skyscrapers and the endless parade of bridg
es disappear and all that remains below us is the glistening of the deep blue sea.

  And then suddenly, somewhere in the distance I see it.

  The yacht.

  At first, it appears as barely a speck on the horizon.

  But as we fly closer, it grows in size.

  By the time we land, it seems to be the size of its own island.

  A tall, beautiful woman waves to us as we get off the helicopter.

  She’s holding a plate with glasses of champagne and nods to a man in a tuxedo next to her to take our bags.

  “Wow, that was quite an entrance,” Caroline says to me.

  “Mr. Black knows how to welcome his guests,” the woman says. “My name is Lizbeth and I am here to serve you.”

  Lizbeth shows us around the yacht and to our stateroom.

  “There will be cocktails right outside when you’re ready,” Lizbeth said before leaving us alone.

  As soon as she left, we grabbed hands and let out a big yelp.

  “Oh my God! Can you believe this place?” Caroline asks.

  “No, it’s amazing,” I say, running over to the balcony. The blueness of the ocean stretched out as far as the eye could see.

  “Are you going to change for cocktails?” Caroline asks, sitting down at the vanity. “The helicopter did a number on my hair.”

  We both crack up laughing.

  Neither of us have ever been on a helicopter before – let alone a boat this big.

  I decide against a change of clothes – my Nordstrom leggings and polka dot blouse should do just fine for cocktail hour.

  But I do slip off my pair of flats and put on a nice pair of pumps, to dress up the outfit a little bit.

  While Caroline changes into her short black dress, I brush the tangles out of my hair and reapply my lipstick.

  “Ready?” Caroline asks.

  Can’t wait to read more? One-Click BLACK EDGE Now!

  About Charlotte Byrd

  Charlotte Byrd is the bestselling author of many contemporary romance novels. She lives in Southern California with her husband, son, and a crazy toy Australian Shepherd. She loves books, hot weather and crystal blue waters.

  Write her here:

  charlotte@charlotte-byrd.com

  Check out her books here:

  www.charlotte-byrd.com

  Connect with her here:

  www.facebook.com/charlottebyrdbooks

  Instagram: @charlottebyrdbooks

  Twitter: @ByrdAuthor

  Facebook Group: Charlotte Byrd’s Reader Club

  Newsletter