Girl For Rent: A Dark Romantic Comedy

by Dark Angel

  I nod, even though she can't see me. "I did," I whisper. I’d loved him a little too much.

  When I wake up the next morning, I don't feel any better. In fact, I feel worse. I feel like a dark cloud hangs over me. I don't want to get out of bed.

  Lisa already left for work. Instead of getting up, getting food, or doing anything at all, I turn around and go back to sleep. It's the best escape there is.

  When I wake up again, it's past noon, and I have to go to the bathroom. When I sit down on the couch, my phone lies on the coffee table where I put it before, still off. I switch it on. My stomach knots into a fist of nerves. I'm terrified about what I'll find. Has he sent me a million texts? Has he tried to call me all night?

  One missed call flashes on my screen and nothing else. Thomas had only tried once after I had switched off my phone before giving up.

  What did that say about how he feels about me? I was nervous about getting a lot of messages from him because I’d been scared about what it would do to me, emotionally. I'm angry now, because he hadn’t sent me anything. He hadn’t even tried. Maybe that Jessica had been right. Maybe he had planned on leaving me to go back to Elanda, after all.

  Why wouldn’t he have told me that? I don't understand what he’d been trying to do. I don't want to believe that sex was all he was after. He hadn’t known I was a virgin, and he had carried on spending time with me and sleeping with me after he’d gotten it the first time. He hadn’t left me, then. I don't understand why he’d done that, now.

  I switch on the television, desperate for a distraction. The rest of the day, I watch series reruns and stupid movies on Telemundo.

  "You’re still here," Lisa says when she comes back after work at five. I nod.

  "Is that okay?" I ask.

  "Of course," she says, putting down her bag and sitting down on the couch. "I was just hoping you would feel better."

  I shake my head. "Nope."

  Lisa hesitates, like she's sure how to say what's on her mind.

  "Nicole," she starts. I mute the TV and look at her.

  "How serious were you about this guy?"

  I groan. "Too serious, apparently. I should never have fallen for him."

  Lisa shakes her head. "That’s not what I’m getting at. Don’t you think you should ask him what's going on? Hear it from him at least?"

  I shake my head. "I don’t think he deserves that," I say.

  "According to this Jessica woman you were talking about. But what if she was wrong? What if she was just being a jealous, vindictive bitch?"

  "What are you saying?" I ask. "That I should give him another chance?"

  Lisa shrugs. "I would give anything to have a shot at talking about things with Graham. He hadn’t given me that luxury, and it hurts like a bitch. You still have the chance to speak to him. Don’t you think you should at least find out what the truth is? If for no other reason than to get closure?"

  I shake my head again. I'm not interested. I'm too hurt. I feel like I’d been betrayed, like Thomas had ripped out my heart and stomped all over it.

  "Just think about it, okay? Lisa says. "And stay as long as you need."

  She's a great friend.

  After two days, I need to go home. I have no extra clothes, and I feel bad about wearing Lisa’s stuff all the time and eating her food. When I go back to my own apartment, I feel like I'm a different person than when I left it. I feel ten years older, grimy, and down in the dumps. I go back into bed and switch off the light so my room is perpetually dark. It echoes how I feel inside.

  On the fourth day, I have enough. There's only so much moping around I can do before I get sick of it. I get up, shower, and get dressed. I think about what Lisa said. I don't think Thomas deserves anything from me, but Lisa had been right. What if it had all been lies? Jessica hadn’t let him get a word in edgewise, and I had no reason to blindly trust her.

  I want to see him one last time. Even if it's just to confirm that he's an asshole and to get closure, at least.

  I take a cab to his apartment building and walk in through the front door. When I sign myself in, the doorman shakes his head.

  "Mr. Silber doesn’t live here, anymore," he says. "The movers already cleared his apartment."

  My stomach sinks. I'm too late. "There’s no way I can reach him?" I ask.

  The doorman shakes his head. "He left no forwarding address," he says.

  I sigh.

  "Are you looking for Thomas?" someone asks behind me. I turn around. A blond man in a polo shirt stands in front of me. He looks well put together, like he’s just stepped out of a magazine.

  I nod.

  "I’m Luke," he says. "Thomas asked me to oversee the final arrangements. It’s why I’m here. Are you Nicole?"

  I nod again. "I just wanted to speak to him."

  Luke shakes his head. "I’m sorry. I think he left this morning, early. He’s on his way back to Elanda."

  I'm too late, then. I feel like I want to cry. I really messed this one up. If only I’d gotten over myself sooner and come to see him. I might have been able to catch him before it was too late.

  "He told me about you," Luke says. "For what it’s worth."

  I frown and look up at him.

  "You’re the only one that he would've given it all up for, if he could."

  I shake my head, confused. "What are you talking about?"

  "What he felt for you," Luke says like it's obvious. "You changed him. He stopped chasing random girls and doing stupid things. He settled down. I think you were the one that got away."

  He sticks his hand into his pocket and takes out a note. "He wanted me to give this to you if you stopped by."

  I unfold the note.

  Mon Coeur ne bat que pour toi

  "What does it say?" I ask.

  Luke shrugs. "I don’t speak French."

  I leave the building. In the cab, I type the words into Google Translate.

  My heart only beats for you.

  I phone Lisa. "He’s gone," I say. "Back to Elanda."

  "I’m so sorry, Nicky," she says.

  I shake my head. "He left me a note. My heart only beats for you. He loved me."

  "What are you waiting for, then?" Lisa asks.

  "What?"

  "Go after him."

  I frown. "He’s already left the country."

  "So? You have a passport, don’t you?"

  I do have one. And it's still valid. I could pull all my savings. There'd still be time.

  "Why are you contradicting everything you’ve told me about being in love and living my life independently?" I ask.

  "Nicole, if Graham did that for me, I would have been there in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t have thought twice. This guy loves you. And he’s a prince. A prince. Go to him. What more do you need?"

  She's right. I have to go to him. "You’re the best," I say.

  "I know." I can hear the smile in her voice. I hang up.

  At home, I pack a bag and find my passport. I write a note for my landlady. In less than an hour, I'm at the airport counter, buying a ticket for Elanda. I have no idea how I'm going to find him. The country isn't all that big, though, and there are only so many places the crown prince can hide.

  Thomas

  One month later …

  "I think my father likes you," I say. We're at a café on Market Street, watching cars go by. Nicole sits across from me, sipping a decadent hot chocolate made from real cocoa bean and full cream milk straight from the dairy.

  "Why?"

  "He hasn’t lectured me about you at all. That’s a feat."

  She smiles at me. She's brilliant in the European sunlight. Elanda has the feel of an old village despite sporting the latest technology, and Nicole seems to fit right into the setting. It's as if she was destined to be here, all along.

  When I’d left America, I had been heartbroken. I had headed toward a future that felt dull and suffocating. I would run a country, be expected to take a wife, and produce an he
ir. The only woman I’d ever wanted had been left behind, and I had been shattered.

  Two days had passed in Elanda where my father had lectured me day in and day out about the divine privilege that had been bestowed on me. He had seemed to understand that I had left a part of me behind.

  On the third day, a commotion at the gate had drawn my attention. The guards had been fighting with a woman who demanded to see the crown prince. This was impossible, of course. For a brief second, I thought Jessica had come all this way like the psycho stalker she was.

  I had gone outside. Nicole had been there, arguing with my guards. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I was dreaming.

  "Your Royal Highness," the waiter says when he brings our baguettes.

  Nicole tries to hide a smile. When the waiter leaves she shakes her head.

  "It’s still weird, hearing them call you that," she says.

  I shrug. "You’ll get used to it."

  "I don’t think I will," she says.

  She stays with me in the palace. I think my father realized, shortly after her arrival, that her stay wasn’t negotiable. I would do a lot of things for king and country, but I had lost Nicole once already. I wouldn’t risk that again.

  "Oh, I got an email from NYU," she says. "They approved the extension."

  Nicole has managed to delay her degree for a year. Until then, she'll be here. At some point, she'll have to return to the States to finish her studies. Unless I can organize a transfer here. I'm not going to mention anything just yet, though. I'm just happy to have her back.

  "Thank you, for that," I say. She leans over the table and kisses me. Her lips taste like hot chocolate.

  "How do you like Elanda, so far?" I ask.

  Nicole shrugs. "I think I’m getting the hang of it. It’s a big change, obviously. The languages will take me a while to figure out, too."

  I smile. "It’s okay. Everyone speaks English as well. You won’t be stuck."

  She nods. "I know. I want to try to fit in a bit more, though. It’s your country, you know?"

  "You’re a treasure," I say. "What did I do to deserve you?"

  She smiles at me.

  "I miss home, though," she says. "I left so quickly."

  "Do you want to go back?" I ask.

  She shakes her head. "Not right now. Maybe later."

  "I think you should stick around for a while. You’re already seen as nobility because you live at the palace."

  Nicole chuckles. "Next thing you know, they’ll be calling me ‘Your royal Highness,’ too."

  "Would you like that?" I ask.

  Her breath hitches in her throat. "I don’t know," she says in a voice barely louder than a whisper. She clears her throat. "Royalty can’t marry commoners, though, anyway."

  She knows what I'm getting at.

  I shrug. "There’s no law about that, here."

  She blinks at me, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

  One day, perhaps not too far from now, I'd like to make her my queen. She's the world’s perfect woman. Not only does she have all the attributes that would make her a good queen and a perfect mother to the heir of a king, but she also fought for me when the easiest thing would've been to give up.

  If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

  Nicole

  We’ve just arrived home after yet another formal dinner in the Capital. Yes, I call this remarkable palace home now. At first it didn’t feel that way. Everything about the country and this lifestyle was, well, foreign to me. I missed New York a bit, but being with Thomas made me more comfortable and released me from the guilt of not even saying goodbye to some of my closest friends.

  Leaving in a frenzy left little time for me to see everyone. I barely got my things packed in the few hours I had before boarding a flight and making my way across the globe. Anxiety is an understatement for how I felt knowing that Thomas could reject me upon my arrival.

  Besides the note, I had no real way of knowing his feelings, or if he wanted me to come here. So you can imagine my surprise when I saw him waiting for me at the airport. What was even more shocking was the onslaught of cameras and reporters as we made our way to the waiting limousine. He was so famous that even being at the airport was a cause for countless articles to be written about him, as everyone began to question just who I was.

  This was definitely a lot to get used to, but after some time it has all grown on me. Luckily, Thomas has found me a tutor so I can begin learning French, I want to learn German as well, but the French language is so romantic. I love when Thomas speaks to me in random lines from the language, so I’ll focus on that one first and then switch over once I get the hang of it.

  I could tell he was happy about my desire to speak the native language, but I can’t be sure why. He’s fluent in all three, so I know he doesn’t need me to learn French to speak with me. Maybe he thinks it will mean I’m interested in staying longer, I can’t be sure. He casually mentioned the universities available to me, but he can’t possibly think I would go to school here.

  Besides, that’s a year away and I’ve done enough of living for the future, while I’m here, I just want to focus on one day at a time and enjoy my days with Thomas. Everything is perfect, and easy, since he has a huge staff to help do everything. I haven’t even done laundry because there’s a maid, and a cook makes us the most delicious meals I’ve ever had.

  It’s crazy that this is his normal life, never blinking an eye at the opulence, but to me everything is a bit over the top. I have to stop myself to reacting so dramatically to things when he invites me into his life. I used to be the bashful one, but now its more Thomas, as I learn more about him.

  When we walked through the garage to the palace, he cringed as the butler reported on the status of the care for all ten of his cars. Ten cars! I know he worries that I could possibly think differently of him because of his wealth, but I would never judge him by it. I just like to poke fun at him for having access to so much and having a difficult time understanding what its like to do these things on your own.

  I’ve never owned a car in my life, and when I told him that he looked confused, as if it was impossible. No one in New York had a car, there was a subway and more busses than I could keep track of, but Thomas has actually never used public transportation. I literally laughed when he first told me this.

  We’re so different in many ways, but that doesn’t affect how I feel about him, and I don’t think it makes him feel any different about me. When I once asked him how he could date someone as simple and poor as me he seemed to get offended, and not because I was challenging his decisions, but because I was speaking of myself in that way.

  It was worth getting the question out there thought, because the local newspaper definitely reported on who I was, what I’d done, and what I didn’t have – royal blood. Thomas said he didn’t care, and no one in the palace treated me any different, not that they had much of a choice since I was with Thomas so much everyone knew I was special to him.

  In some ways he had told the truth about having this immense pressure to take over the family business, although he lacked interest, because everything to do with the royal family seemed to bore him, although it was exciting and fun for me.

  I think my being there was the only enjoyment he got from the daily appearances we had to make. One day we would be following his father as he spoke to crowds and communities, and others, like tonight we would attend fancy dinners welcoming foreign leaders, or simply gatherings of the elite.

  I’d acquired a large closet full of fancy new clothing, which was personally delivered by my own private shopper, who I was assigned my first day at the palace. It was all strange to me, but Thomas wanted me to know that none of it was a big deal so that I would stop feeling guilty about everything. I didn’t want him to feel like I was after his money, but he was insistent that I let him handle everything.

  When he found out I had emptied my savings, prepared to rent a place here, or stay in a ho
tel while I reached out to talk to him, he was both in awe and upset. After several debates, I finally relented and allowed him to reimburse me for my plane tickets, because it made him feel like he’d lacked as a gentleman. I thought it was pretty cute; he was always the romantic, even though he constantly denied it.

  Just like our time in New York, our few short weeks in his home country had passed quickly, and we had gotten to know each other a lot in a short amount of time. There was so much we needed to know about each other and now that I knew about his royal ties, he seemed to be an open book, sharing as much as he could about his life.

  We’d gone on tours around the Capital city, Thomas determined to show me where he’d gone to school, and to introduce me to every one of his friends and family members, all of which seemed quite happy to meet me despite my insecurities. I didn’t want to offend his family, but I was over the moon in love with him, although I’d yet to express it openly to him.

  There was nothing I wouldn’t do for him, and every night we spent together felt like a dream. I couldn’t get enough time with him, and when he would go away to events without me, I’d count the hours until his return.

  Him being away was actually quite rare, mostly when his father needed to show him something royal or having to do with the military or the government, obviously I wasn’t privy to those types of conversations, but for everything else I was right by his side.

  Thankfully, my family was very understanding, and to my surprise even proud of me for following my heart. How ironic that I end up near the places I traveled to when I was younger, so enthralled by their history and sad when I had to return. Now I loved here, at least for the time being.

  Thomas and I hadn’t spoken much about our plans for the future or how long I would stay, but from the way he made plans for me, and set up my life completely here in the royal palace, I figured he wanted me to stay a long time. Everyone tells me he’s more relaxed and happy around me, and that makes me proud.

  We have a lot of fun together, so that’s not shocking at all. Although I have a difficult time understanding that he was such a playboy before meeting me. To me he’s such a romantic and gentleman, I can’t begin to fathom him dating the girls in the way he’s told me. I guess dating is too strong of a word for what he was doing, but you know what I mean.