by Calista King
It was funny to her because all her life she'd wanted to be a famous actress, basking in the glow of public adulation and now here she was, famous for being engaged to a prince. Never in her wildest dreams as a kid would she have imagined this was where her life would take her. She'd never even been one of those girls who dreamed of a prince charming or being a princess, and yet here she was. She smiled to herself at the irony of it all.
The smile quickly turned to a frown as she thought about the video that could ruin it all for her. She still had no idea how she was going to get it back. Her first step was to find the director, Lars Andersson, but that was easier said than done. Laila didn't have his contact information and a quick Google search had turned up nothing. It was as if he didn't exist.
She figured her next step was to contact her old agent to get the contact information, but had doubts about that as well. Her agent would probably have heard the news of her engagement by now. It wouldn't be hard for him to put two and two together as to why she needed Lars Andersson's contact. She didn't want to alert him of her predicament and have him running to Lars first to get the video.
She decided she may be able to trick her former agent into believing she was someone else. Once she gained the contact information, she could call or if she got an address, then she could just show up. It was her best bet for keeping everything discreet and not raise any suspicions.
What she would say once she got there was a whole other matter entirely. Laila knew she couldn't really offer him much money for the video, so she decided that her best option would be to somehow try to steal the video herself. She had no idea how she was going to accomplish it, and the more she thought about her predicament, the more depressed and hopeless she felt.
There really was no easy way to get out of the mess she had created. She regretted ever showing up for that audition and being talked into stripping for the cameras. Not for the first time, Laila wanted to wring her ex agent's neck for sending her out there, but the feeling soon changed to one of self loathing.
No one forced her to do what she did; there wasn't a gun held against her head. She'd done it out of desperation, so she had no one to blame but herself. Laila wished she could just close her eyes and make it all disappear. She tried to convince herself that Lars had already destroyed the video. It had already been so long ago, there'd be no reason for him to keep it, she told herself.
Laila almost convinced herself to let it go as she walked into her apartment. It was just easier for her to pretend the video never existed than it was for her to confront the problem head on, especially when she still felt so ashamed of what she'd done and had trouble admitting how far she let herself slip. But she was a fighter and it never sat well with her to leave loose ends. She'd just have to find the right opportunity to get the video.
***
The phone rang for the eighth time before Laila hung up, groaning in frustration. "How hard is it to get a hold of this guy?" she muttered to herself. Laila had been trying to contact her former agent for the past day and a half. Ever since she decided to try and retrieve the video of her embarrassing audition for a porno, she'd had no luck even figuring out where the director was.
Laila was beginning to get that tingly feeling in her stomach that told her something just wasn't right. It shouldn't be this hard to track down a supposedly successful director, even if he did specialize in adult films, she reasoned. But she was finding out this wasn't the case at all. He had probably given a fake name to her former agent, and being the terrible agent that he was, he didn't bother to do a quick background check to make sure everything was on the up and up.
She began to wonder who that man really was and what he was doing with the tape now. Did he even still have it? she wondered. Laila tried the number for her former agent again and was just about to hang up again in frustration when he picked up.
"Morris here," he answered, curtly.
"Hello Morris. This is Denise Phillips," Laila lied.
"Denise who?" Morris asked.
"Denise Phillips. I'm a former client of yours."
Laila had come up with the idea to lie about her identity on the phone so her former agent wouldn't know it was actually her asking for the information. Since Morris was in his eighties and suffered from moments of fuddled memories and was hard of hearing to boot, she figured it was as good a plan as any. She hoped he'd forget he'd never had a client by that name and just go with it.
"Oh yes Denise, how have you been? How's life treating you?" Morris asked.
"I'm fine Morris. Listen, I need some information. A few months ago you sent me to an audition for a director named Lars Andersson. Can you give me his contact information?"
"What? What are you talking about. I don't know any Lawrence Sanders!"
"No not Lawrence Sanders. Lars Andersson. LARS...ANDERSSON." Laila had to shout the name in hopes he could hear her.
"Oh right, Lars Andersson. Just wait a moment while I look in my Rolodex, Denise."
Laila waited several minutes hearing the unmistakable sound of the Morris shuffling through the cards on his Rolodex.
"Got it!" he said.
"Great! Can you give me his phone and address again," she said.
Laila wrote down the contact information that Morris had given and hung up the phone, giddy with excitement. Finally some information I can work with, she thought. She was impatient to get started, so she picked up her phone and dialed the number she had been given. Her hopes were dashed when the phone went into a high pitched squeal and informed her that the number she dialed was no longer in service. Laila felt like a giant lead weight had been dropped in her stomach. She was running out of options now. The only thing she had left was his address.
She picked up her purse and decided to head on down to see him in person. Laila could not wait another second in limbo. She needed to get this squared away so she could enjoy her life again without the worry of this video hanging over her head. The address was downtown just on the outskirts of Chinatown near Little Italy.
Her mind was racing a mile a minute. What am I going to do if he's not there? What am I going to do if he is there? She didn't know which was worse at this point. Laila needed to think fast and come up with a plan that wouldn't tip Lars off to the fact that she was about to become a very famous woman and needed all traces of her disgraceful past scrubbed.
"Well lady, are you gonna get out or what?" the cab driver said. He sounded annoyed and it instantly snapped Laila back to the present.
"Oh I'm so sorry," she said, reaching in her purse and handing him the fare. "Keep the change."
She got out of the cab and looked up at the building before her. It was a different location than the one she had auditioned at. The street was busy and bustling with restaurants and shops lining the streets. Laila looked up at the brick building to make sure it was the right address.
She walked up the steps of the brownstone and looked for Lars Andersson's name on the buzzer out the door. There was no one there by that name. Just as she was about to panic, an old woman came out of the door and Laila took the opportunity to slip inside the building. She was headed for the stairs up to the third floor when she peeled back and called out to the old woman from the door.
"Excuse me, miss!" she shouted.
The old woman turned around. She walked back to the bottom of the steps and looked up at Laila expectantly.
"Yes what do you want?" she asked.
"Uh...I was wondering if a Lars Andersson lives here."
"I haven't got a clue. I don't bother my neighbors and my neighbors don't bother me, just the way I like it," she said.
She turned around and started to walk back up the street.
"But wait. Have you seen anyone around here that's about 5'10", skinny and has black greasy hair that hangs down his forehead?" she asked, placing her hand over her brow in a salute to demonstrate the length of his bangs.
"Hmm...I don't think I've seen anyone like that around here," s
he said.
"Oh, OK. Thanks for your help." Laila was deflated.
This was another dead end. She had no idea how to even find Lars Andersson, much less get the tape back from him. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, and New York City was one giant haystack.
Laila went out the door and walked aimlessly up the street thinking about her options. There wasn't much she could do at this point, she realized. All she could do was hope that Lars Andersson destroyed the video or never realizes that the future princess of Castonia is the same girl that took her clothes off for the cameras that day.
She was getting a headache just thinking about it. A part of her wanted to confess everything to Andreas. She tried to convince herself that she had nothing to be ashamed of. She wasn't doing anything illegal or hurting anyone. She was just a desperate girl who was broke and needed the money. Who has any right to judge me for trying to get by and survive?
But then she thought about the disappointment and disgust she would see on his face after she confessed, and it stopped her dead in her tracks. If she still felt dirty and uneasy about the audition, she had a feeling Andreas would be horribly devastated. He thought she was this wonderful, classy, smart woman and yet here was a video that would just prove how trashy and shameless she really was. She couldn't risk it. She couldn't bring herself to make the confession.
CHAPTER 23
The plane landed at the private airport shortly after midnight. Andreas had to gently shake Laila awake since she had fallen asleep during the ride. Her head rested against his shoulder as he spoke softly in her ear.
"Wake up sleepy head. We're here."
Laila blearily opened her eyes and blinked several times to adjust to the bright lights in the cabin. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was. Andreas could tell when the realization dawned on her as her eyes grew wide and she sat up straight in her seat.
"Already? It feels like we only took off minutes ago," she said.
"Yes, well to you it might. You've been sleeping the whole time," Andreas laughed.
He unbuckled his seat belt and stood up, offering his hand to help her up. Laila grasped it and pulled herself up from the soft cushy chair and patted her hair. She reached under her seat for her purse and pulled out a mirror, checking her reflection.
"How do I look?" she asked.
"Beautiful as always," Andreas said.
Laila tied her hair back into a pony tail and applied a quick coating of lip gloss before snapping her mirror shut. She glanced up at Andreas who was giving her an amused look.
"What? I'm not going to be caught looking like a hot mess the first day in your country," she said.
"You know there aren't going to be any paparazzi here. We're just getting off the plane and heading straight to the palace," Andreas said.
"It's not the paparazzi I'm worried about. I don't want to look tired and frumpy when I meet your parents for the first time."
"My parents won't even be awake when we arrive."
"Oh, I didn't think of that," she said.
Laila visibly relaxed and felt much more relieved that she wouldn't have to face them just yet. She practically skipped down the steps as she alighted from the plane. They were met by a tall thin man who looked to be in his forties. He was impeccably groomed in a dark gray suit and his hair was slicked into a side part. He stood stiffly as he waited for them at the bottom of the stairs.
"Good evening, Your Highness, my Lady," he said to Andreas before turning to Laila and bowing over her hand.
"Evening, Phillip," Andreas replied. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."
"Not at all sir. The plane arrived right on time."
"Excellent. Please allow me to introduce my fiancé, Miss Laila Greer."
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Greer."
"Please, call me Laila."
"Of course," he said. "If you'll please follow me, your limo will have you out of here in no time."
Laila appreciated his friendly and disarming nature. She was expecting the worst when she first saw him--some stodgy and formal bureaucrat, but Phillip's easy smile and friendly nature had put her at ease. They were led to a black limo with dark tinted windows. The driver was standing by the passenger door holding it open for them.
"We'll follow you in the SUV," Phillip said, motioning to their security detail a few yards away.
Andreas thanked Phillip before handing Laila into the limo. He got in after her and the driver shut the door before taking his place at the front seat. As they drove, she stared out the window trying to make out buildings and the landscapes of Andreas' home. Unfortunately she couldn't see much out in the darkness. Laila leaned back against the seat cushions and closed her eyes. Six months ago, she'd never even heard of Castonia, and now she was going to be its princess. It never failed to leave her speechless.
The car pulled off the exit and drove through the deserted city streets before pulling up outside the gates of the palace. They were ushered through security and the car drove up the long drive. Even though it was late at night, the outside of the palace was lit up, and Laila stared at it in wonder.
"You actually live here?" Laila asked.
"Sometimes," he answered. "I have a set of apartments inside, but I rarely stay here."
Laila kept her eyes glued to every little detail as they got closer and closer to the palace. From what she could see, it was massive, easily stretching the lengths of several football fields. The palace was in a U-shape with the main entrance in the middle and a large fountain in front of the manicured lawns.
"Can you tell me a little about it?" she asked.
"Well it was built in the 16th century by Johan III for his new bride. It's been burned down and rebuilt several times since then and there are a mixture of styles from the classical baroque style you see, to neoclassicism and rococo. There are just over 500 rooms including 10 ballrooms, 15 state rooms, and 45 Royal and guest quarters. This is the official residence of the royal family though there are some parts that are made available to the public."
"Holy shit," Laila whispered. "That's...something."
Andreas laughed at her expression and wrapped his arm around her shoulder pulling her against him. He placed a kiss on top of her head. "You know, for all the space, I think I actually prefer your little one bedroom in the city."
"Oh my God, don't even remind me of that place. I can't believe you didn't run out when you first saw it. I'm sure you've got shoe closets bigger than my old apartment."
"I don't know about that, but I will say that it felt more like home than this palace ever has."
Laila sent him a grateful look and rested her head against his chest as the car finally stopped outside the main entrance.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"No."
"Too bad," he said and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the limo.
Laila lost her balance and slipped, but Andreas caught her just before she could embarrass herself and fall on her butt. The security detail arrived at that moment, and Laila felt the heat rise to her cheeks since she was sure they'd witnessed her near fall. Just perfect, she thought. A great impression I'm making.
Phillip stepped out of the car and headed towards them. He led the way to the entrance of the palace. Once inside, Laila sucked in a gasp at the sight before her. If she thought the outside was impressive, the inside of the palace nearly knocked her over. Her eye was immediately drawn to the grand staircase. It wound several stories tall and the balustrade featured magnificent bronze scroll work. On the walls were large portraits of what Laila assumed were ancestors of the royal family.
"I'm sure she's just a bit overwhelmed, aren't you, Laila?" she heard Andreas say.
Laila's attention snapped at the mention of her name, and she stared at Andreas and Phillip with a confused frown.
"Excuse me?" she said.
"I was just saying that I hope you will have a wonderful stay. We're very glad to have you here for the celebrati
ons," Phillip said.
"Oh thank you very much. I am a little speechless right now, so if I sound or look like an idiot, it's because I'm a bit overwhelmed."
"See, I told you," Andreas laughed.
"Yes well, I'll leave you now. Your apartments have already been prepared. We have your schedule ready as well. Your parents requested your presence at breakfast tomorrow at 9 am," Phillip said before taking his leave.
"Wonderful," Andreas said to no one in particular. "I'm sure they must have missed me so much they just had to see me first thing in the morning."
Andreas led Laila up the stairs to the second floor. She was grateful he held her hand because her head was so busy swiveling and looking up at the wonderful paintings on the walls and ceilings, she almost tripped and fell several times. They finally made it to their apartments and Andreas scooped Laila in his arms before crossing into the room.
"Put me down, Andreas," Laila laughed.
Andreas set her down on her feet but didn't let go of her hands. "So, tell me what you're thinking," he asked.
"I don't think there's much thought going on in here right now," she said pointing to her head. "Honestly, it feels like a dream, like I've stepped into a fairy tale. It's all a bit much."
"That's understandable. You must be very tired too."
"Mmm, how could you tell?" Laila asked just as she stifled a yawn.
"Call it a sixth sense. Why don't you get ready for bed? The bathroom is just down the hall to your right."
"Don't have to tell me twice," Laila said.
She padded down the hall in the direction Andreas had pointed out. Now that she was in their room, her tiredness hit her hard. She didn't even have the energy to look around and examine their room. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and took off her contacts before heading back to the bedroom.
Andreas had already laid out her pajamas for her on the bed, and she smiled at him gratefully. She slipped her pajamas on and hopped onto the bed. Andreas had been lying on top of the covers when she came in, but pulled them back when she got on the bed and tucked her in.
