Royally Damaged

by Crowne, K. C.

  "What the hell are you doing now, you creep? I'm watching you."

  Lizzie

  As soon as I opened my eyes, the first thing that came to mind was, Oh, my God. I'm never drinking champagne again.

  Images of the previous night came to me. There was the sea, that glorious yacht that looked as though it had come right out of a James Bond movie. Then there was Phil right in the middle of it.

  When he'd arrived at my door, I’d thought it was a complete stranger. What a difference a suit and a shave could make. When I first saw him in his shorts and flip-flops, I didn't think it was possible to think he could be any more attractive.

  I was wrong. Dead wrong.

  I thought back to the way he smiled at me over the table, always ready to top off my glass. He looked devastating, and just the thought of him now made me press my thighs close together.

  Stop it, I told myself. Stop thinking about him. You should never have got so drunk last night. You nearly slept with him!

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was swept up into the spell and grandeur of the yacht, the champagne that cost more than my year's salary, and the way Phil just looked so fatally handsome.

  I remembered the way his lips felt against mine and my body sunk into a delicious creamy bliss. Then I remembered how I had thrown myself at him and kissed him like a lovesick maniac. What the hell was I thinking?

  It didn't help that when I returned to the hotel, I'd got absolutely knockout drunk with Christy.

  As I woke up and threw back the covers, I didn't think it was possible to cringe so hard.

  "Lizzie, you're sticking to the orange juice tonight. Keep your head straight. You're in no position to be throwing yourself at some guy. Even if he is ridiculously hot."

  I tried to hold onto this as I made myself a glass of Alka Seltzer. Yet, as I reached for my phone, I saw I had a message.

  Had the best night last night. Wish it didn't have to end so soon. See you later? Phil

  And just like that I was swept right back up into the whirlwind like I was falling victim to a schoolgirl crush. My stomach began doing somersaults, and as I picked up my phone, I felt my hand was clammy.

  "Calm down, girl. Don't let him think there's anything real happening here. It's all fake, remember?"

  Attempting to play it cool, I took a deep breath, put on my logical hat, and texted back.

  Yeah, see you later. Thanks for last night. I hesitated for a moment. My message looked cold and unfeeling, but that's exactly what I needed to be.

  "He's just a fake date to keep Adam at bay," I reminded myself. "Don't get carried away."

  A knock sounded on the door and I shuffled over, Alka Seltzer in one hand and a bottle of aspirin in the other.

  "Hiyeeee!"

  "Christy. My God you're chipper this morning," I said. "And early! What time is it?"

  "Six forty-five! Time to hit the gym."

  "Are you kidding me?"

  "Come on! I need to look my very best when I walk down the aisle."

  "You already look amazing. Missing the gym once won't hurt."

  She stared daggers at me, and right now, I was in no mood to argue with her.

  "Okay, fine," I relented. "The gym it is."

  When we arrived, I was expecting to see the place deserted. After all, who in their right mind would work out on vacation? It turned out plenty of people wanted to do just that. As we walked in, I was bombarded with the sight of dozens of tanned bodies jiggling up and down on the machines. The smell of sweat and protein shakes wafted toward me and my hangover instantly worsened.

  "Hey," came a voice from behind us.

  Before I even turned around, I recognized the voice and the familiar cologne. In an instant, I was right back there on that yacht, wind in my hair and his hands on my hips.

  "Phil."

  "Fancy seeing you here."

  I looked over at Christy, and she was just gaping at him, her mouth fully open as though she was being treated to the sight of Jesus himself in the flesh.

  "Christy," I said. "This is my friend, Phil who's going to be my date for the week."

  She reached out to shake his hand, her eyes almost popping out of her head.

  Then she looked at me and I knew what she was thinking. She was wondering why she hadn't met him before. Offended that I hadn't introduced the two of them until now.

  “We've just met,” I said, anticipating the barrage of questions I knew I was going to get. “It's still early days.”

  “Yep!” said Phil. “ Lizzie and I are still in the honeymoon phase. Aren't we?”

  Before I could answer, he bent down and kissed me before pinching my bottom and giving me a wink. Beside me, Christy's eyes widened as my cheeks reddened. I watched as her eyes fell to his chest that was bulging beneath his tank top, its pristine whiteness setting off his bronzed tan.

  “Are you coming tonight?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said, looking to me. “Lizzie didn't invite me to anything tonight.”

  He smirked and raised his eyebrows. I didn't know whether I wanted to slap the smarmy grin off his face or kiss him.

  “I was getting around to it,” I said. “It's nothing important. Just a few drinks with friends.”

  “Nothing important!” said Christy, outraged. “The rest of the wedding guests are arriving tonight. All eighty of them! We're having cocktails in the VIP lounge at nine sharp. Please tell me you'll be there.”

  “Oh, I'll be there,” he said. “I wouldn't miss it for the world. Anyway, I'm heading for the showers now. Catch you later.”

  He pecked me on the cheek and walked toward the changing rooms. I looked to Christy and saw she was staring at his ass as he walked, her eyes hypnotically fixed on his pert, muscular cheeks.

  “Do I have to remind you that you're getting married in a couple days?”

  She shook her head as though she was trying to knock the image of his ass out her head.

  “How long were you gonna keep him a sercret?” she asked.

  “I know. I'm sorry. I was gonna tell you it's just that, I dunno, things have been hectic and the right time never came up.”

  She stared off in the direction of the men's changing rooms and said, “He makes Adam look like a Hobbit.”

  “Doesn't he?”

  “You do know he's going to be there tonight, don't you?”

  “I know,” I replied, unable to stop smiling.

  I'm going to make sure he sees me with Phil, I thought. And I'm going to make sure he hates every single second of it.

  * * *

  “Your friend's nice,” said Phil as we arrived at the bar. “Although something tells me she's got cold feet about her wedding.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The way she looked at me,” he replied. “Like I was a cheeJoshurger and she hadn't eaten in a week.”

  He was checking his hair in a nearby mirror, making sure each strand was smoothed down to perfection. He knew full well how good he looked, and how almost every woman in the room was staring in his direction. I could sense him thriving off the attention, sucking all of it in like a sponge.

  “You really love yourself,” I observed. “The only thing that surpasses your self-admiration is your arrogance.”

  “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

  Strangely, his cockiness didn't grate on my nerve's as much as Adam's had. It was different with Phil. He was more laid back and didn't seem to work for his attention in the same way. Somehow, it was as though he was more deserving of it. And he didn’t treat me poorly just because he thought he was hot shit. That was a big difference between him and my ex.

  “Could you attract any more attention to yourself?” I asked. “I'm starting to feel like a zoo exhibit.”

  He was wearing a white suit, and on anybody else it would have looked like he was dressed up for a cheesy Miami Vice themed party. But on him it looked, well... it looked normal. I could even stretch it
and say it looked good on him. Really good.

  I wasn't an expert on fine suits, but even I could see it was cut to perfection, so it flattered his body perfectly. I could also see it wasn't a cheap suit either. By the feel of the fabric it came from one of the top tailor's that even Adam couldn't afford. So how did Phil get his hands on it?

  I didn't have too much time to ponder the question because nails dug into my ribs as a familiar voice rang in my ears.

  “Hiyeee! Lizzie, you look terrific. You've caught the sun so well already. Oh, you really do look lovely. Mwah. Mwah. And who's this? I heard you were dating again? Is this your man? Oh, you are a dish aren't you?”

  “Louise,” I said, already exhausted by her.

  She had gone all out in anticipation of her daughter's wedding with heaped on fake tan, sculpted hair like plastic covered in layer upon layer of hairspray, and enough makeup to give a clown a run for their money.

  "Come here and give me a hug," she said.

  It was an order, and I soon felt her bony rib cage up against mine.

  "I'm just so happy you're here," she said, and I began to anticipate another blubberfest.

  "Okay, well, we're going to grab some drinks and mingle. Catch you in a bit?"

  She had already moved on, pressing her attention onto one of Christy's cousins who was now being subjected to one of her bone crushing cuddles.

  "Nice lady," said Phil, his eyebrows raised.

  "She's great, just a little on the dramatic side. Anyway, there's Josh over there. Come say hi."

  After thrusting a margarita into Phil's hand, I led him down the bar to where Josh was loving being the center of attention. The poor guy probably wasn't used to it, having always been in Christy's shadow. It was nice to see him revel in the attention for a change. In his flowery shirt and slacks, his hair tousled from the beach, and the beginnings of a tan darkening his pallid cheeks, he looked like the picture-perfect beach groom.

  "Hi Josh!"

  "Lizzie!"

  He gave me a quick hug, but his attention was pulled away by Phil whose very presence was dominating the room.

  “Phil, this is Josh,” I said. “The groom himself.”

  “Oh, congratulations,” smiled Phil with a strong handshake. “I met your fiancée earlier. You're a lucky man.”

  Josh grinned with pride like sun beams were shining out of his face.

  "Thank you. It hasn't really sunken in yet. Anyway, are you Lizzie's new friendfriend?”

  "Yes, I'm Lizzie's new toy," Phil replied with a cheeky grin.

  I nearly spit out the sip of margarita I’d just taken. "That's a great accent you got there," said Josh. "Where you from?"

  "Oh, a tiny place. You won't know it," replied Phil.

  Josh was eyeing him as though he was trying to figure out the result of a math equation by looking deep into Phil's soul.

  "Are you sure I don’t know you from somewhere?" asked Josh. "I swear you look familiar.

  "Oh, no. I just have one of those average faces that everyone thinks they recognize."

  It was the most preposterous lie. Phil couldn't be average if he tried.

  "Nah, I'm sure I recognize you," continued Josh. "I'm sure I've seen you in the papers recently. Like, you're an actor or something, aren't you? "

  "Are you?" I asked, looking up at Phil.

  Now the idea was planted in my mind, I thought it could maybe be true. I mean, he definitely had the looks, the charm, the presence, the confidence.

  "I'm not an actor," laughed Phil. "I'd never remember my lines."

  Josh gave him a chuckle. He was obviously taken in by him, as was everyone else. I could see people looking out the corners of their eyes at him as though they were all hoping to grab his attention.

  "Say, have you seen Adam?" asked Josh.

  Why would you bring him up? I thought. I had never considered strangling Josh before, but in the moment, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

  "No," I said through gritted teeth. "I haven't seen Adam today."

  "I only ask because he's been standing at the end of the bar staring right at you like he's trying to set you on fire with his mind.”

  We all turned around to see him propping up the bar and sipping on a Martini. He was alone, his eyes focused on us. He didn't even have the decency to turn away when we noticed him staring. Instead, he had the audacity to raise his glass to us.

  "Shit.He's the last person I want to see."

  "Just ignore him," said Josh.

  "How can I? You invited him here!"

  Josh's cheeks reddened, and he looked down into his beer.

  "I had to," he said. "He was gonna kick up a fuss if I didn't. Sorry."

  I looked back at Adam and saw he was still looking at us. Let him watch, I thought. The asshole.

  Without thinking, and before I could change my mind, I reached up and kissed Phil on the lips, slowly and sensually drawing out each second so Adam could get the good look he so desperately wanted. When I pulled away, Phil was grinning like a schoolboy.

  "I'll leave you guys to it," Josh said uncomfortably as he disappeared into the crowd.

  "What was that for?" asked Phil.

  "Oh, you know, just playing with my new toy."

  He leaned back down and kissed me again. This time, our lips met like we both meant it. For a second it felt as though we were almost a real couple in love.

  The magic of the moment was soon broken by the ring of Phil's cell phone. He pulled it out his pocket and grumbled, "My brother. Sorry, I better answer this."

  He strode through the crowd and out the back door to where the bar stretched out toward the beach. I watched him out on the balcony, the sea breeze in his hair. Fuck, you're so hot, I thought. You're you can’t be real.

  "Were you not going to come say hi?" came a voice from beside me.

  It oozed into my ear like a slug and trickled down my spine like cold water.

  "Adam."

  His hand was on my wrist, a simple, innocent gesture that felt like a threat coming from him.

  "Trying to make me jealous?"

  "No, Adam. I don’t give a shit how you feel.”

  I tried to pull away, but his fingers remained curled around my arm.

  "Let me go," I said. "I don't want to make a scene, but I will if I have to."

  Right then, I had never hated him more. As I stared into his shark-like eyes, it was like I was seeing him for the first time. It was hard to see what I’d ever seen in him in the first place.

  "Think it's cute to flaunt your new boyfriend in front of me like that?"

  "Yeah, it must be difficult for you seeing me with a real man."

  He bristled, his whole body tensing up. His face flushed red and his jaw set so tight I could see his cheekbones pop out. Adam was always a jerk, but he was never violent. Yet for the first time, I was suddenly afraid that he might hurt me. I had never seen anger like that in his eyes, had never seen his face turn that color before. Then I realized why. For the first time in his life, he was getting a taste of his own medicine. He was feeling what it was like to see someone you love with someone else.

  "How about we go talk in private?" he suggested.

  "I'm not interested in talking to you at all.”

  A storm swirled in his eyes. He was getting madder by the second, but he wasn't going to intimidate me. When his macho act failed to work, he attempted a new routine, one I'd never seen before.

  "Please," he begged, squinting as though he was trying to force tears to sprout from his eyes. "I miss you so much."

  "Playing the pathetic loser doesn't suit you," I said, and wrenched my arm free.

  "Just two minutes," he pleaded. "I just want to talk to you."

  "I have nothing more to say to you. We're over."

  "We can still work things out, Lizzie. Don't throw away what we had like this."

  "You threw away what we had when you tried to hook up with the waitress while we were supposed to be celebrating our engage
ment!"

  Heads swiveled toward us. I stared at the floor and hoped everyone would mind their own business.

  "What's going on?" came Phil's voice.

  I'd never been so relieved to see him. Instinctively, I fell into his arms, genuinely happy he was by my side. Right then, it wasn't an act.

  "Nothing," said Adam.

  "Doesn't look like nothing."

  "Look," said Adam, squaring up to Phil.

  I'd always thought Adam was strong and tall, but compared to Phil, he looked like a scrawny kid.

  "This is none of your business."

  He moved to prod a finger into Phil's chest but thought better of it.

  "It's my business when you're giving my girl a hassle."

  Adam looked ready to explode. I could almost see him vibrating on the spot, ready to blow a fuse.

  "Look, take off," said Phil. "She doesn't want you here."

  Adam didn't budge. Instead, he remained rooted to the spot, his face growing more crimson with each passing second.

  "Go on, buddy," said Phil. "Take the hint and leave her alone. You really don’t want to piss me off."

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Josh staring at us from behind his beer. All Adam had to do was walk away and the whole scene would come to an end, but he wouldn't move an inch.

  "I'd just like to talk to Lizzie," he said, forcing out a flat, calm voice.

  "Well, she doesn't want to talk to you."

  Phil moved in closer and slapped a hand on his shoulder.

  "We don't want any trouble," he said. “But if you don't go now I'm going to have to make you leave.”

  "Yeah, Adam. I don't want a fuss. This is about Christy and Josh. Please, just go."

  But Adam never was good at taking a hint, or a flat out direction for that matter. I could feel the sizzle of angry energy in the air. Any second now, a fight was going to break out. I could sense it. I could almost smell the testosterone in the air. Everyone else could feel it too as they shuffled out of our way, ready to run if they had to.