by Coco Miller
“I said don’t talk about her. The last thing she is, is a whore. She’s amazing. Don’t talk about shit you don’t know about.”
“Holy shit, are you falling for this girl?”
I shove him one last time before letting him go. The fact is I do. I love her so much. I must or I wouldn’t react so violently like this. I’ve never laid a hand on Gerald before, and my brother has done some dumb shit in the past.
“That’s why you can’t leave?” he continues. “Are you kidding me? The entire country needs you to step up for our father and you’re staying in the states for some damn hooker pussy?” he hisses.
I don’t even think about it. I raise my fist, throw my arm back, and slam it against his jaw. “I said don’t talk about her like that!”
I roar, spit flying, when I go to raise my fist again.
“Rowan!”
Ella’s voice yanks me from the rage consuming me. She rushes to my brother’s side, wearing a pair of my sweatpants and one of my t−shirts. God, how does she look so perfect in the morning?
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Aah, you must be the stripper. I’m Gerald. Gerald Cobalt.” He holds out his hand for her to shake and the moment she notices who he is, she takes a step back and points to him.
“That’s….”
“Yes,” I say.
“That’s….” she tries to say again.
Gerald jumps to his feet and smiles, wiping the blood from his lip. “I’m—”
“Shut up, Gerald.”
Ella stares at him, dumbfounded and then clears her throat.
“Oh, wow. Okay. I have so many questions. Like what the hell is the Prince of England doing here with Rowan? And by the way, I’m not a stripper. I don’t actually strip. I just dance, thanks for that. Wow, pompous much?” she mutters and then slams her hand over her mouth.
I chuckle and throw my hands on my hips, staring at the ceiling. This cannot be my life.
“I like you,” Gerald says with amusement in his voice. “Sorry for the assumption. It’s Vegas so sometimes I just assume the worst. Let’s start over. I’m Gerald and I’m here to get my brother,” he says.
My heart drops to the floor.
“Your brother?”
Everything happens in slow motion. I see when the light clicks on and her head swings toward me. Those big brown eyes get bigger and she takes a step back, shaking her head.
“Oh my god.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Gerald laughs. “Oh, this is going to be good. I can see how she wouldn’t notice. You had a beard in England. Now you look practically five years younger.”
A tear drips down Ella’s cheek and she falls to the couch.
I’m in deep shit.
“I knew you looked familiar, but I couldn’t place you. I just thought maybe you had one of those faces but I have seen you. I’ve seen you on the front of magazines with all those stories.”
“To be fair, those stories are never true,” Gerald points out.
Well, look at that. He can be useful.
“So you’re not Rowan Walsh but rather Rowan…Cobalt,” she says, my name a realization falling from her lips. “Prince Rowan Cobalt, second in line to the throne of England. Everyone knows you.” Another tear falls. “You’re such a liar, and I’m such an idiot.”
“You aren’t an idiot. I didn’t tell you for this reason. I didn’t want you to—.”
“You didn’t want me to know who you were for obvious reasons.”
“I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to get to know me first. I wanted to know you. I needed a break. Things are expected of me over there, but here I could be free.”
“Is that what I was? Your freedom ride?”
She turns her head and this time, the wetness on her cheeks is a dagger in my heart.
“You used me to make yourself feel better? Is that it? I knew it. Something was off. Something was wrong. I felt it.”
She clutches her heart and buries her head between her legs, taking a deep breath.
“You knew that someone like me would have no place in your life. I was a vacation.”
I wish this wasn’t all unfolding in front of Gerald. This was the worst way for her to discover who I am.
“What?” I say in disbelief and take a step forward, needing to be close to her. “What? No. You were anything but a vacation. I didn’t expect to meet you—”
“And when you did you could have been honest. Come on, Rowan. The stripper and the Prince of England don’t have a happy ending. That’s not reality. That’s a story. A fairytale.”
“Last night was totally real. It was everything. You felt it. I felt it.” I take another step and grab her hand, placing it on my chest. “I love you, Ella. I love you. Do you get that?”
She pulls her hand away and looks over my shoulder to my brother.
“You love me? How would you introduce me to your family? What place would I ever have with you? Love doesn’t hinder, Rowan. God, I’ve never felt so stupid.”
She pushes by me, slamming into my shoulder and I step back, catching myself on my heel. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath when the door slams behind me.
“Ella? Ella, wait!” I shout and run after her. When I open the door, the elevator starts to close and I dash to it, slamming my hands on the doors.
“Ella, it wasn’t like that, please. I didn’t use you.”
I finally stop the doors from shutting and they reopen, giving me a good look at her tear−stained face. She takes my hand, lays it by my side, shoves the middle of my chest so I fall backward.
“I love you too, but I have no place in your life. This is done.”
The elevator dings and the doors close again, shutting me out of the one thing I have ever wanted in life, truly wanted.
Not made to want.
Not forced to want.
Not planned to want.
My love for her just happened.
“Fuuuck!” I slam my fist against the metal. “Fuck. Damn it! Ella!” I roar, the pain ripping from my throat, leaving me raw and bare to the world around me.
“Rowan,” Gerald steps out of the door going into the penthouse suite.
I brace my hands on my knees and try and figure out a way to show her I can’t be without her, that I need her.
“This is your fault,” I spit at him. “You just had to show up and fuck it all up.”
“How the hell was I supposed to know she meant that much to you? You don’t pick up your phone. You didn’t tell me shit. But irregardless of all of that, you should have told her who you are. This isn’t the kind of thing you tell someone over coffee, especially someone like her.”
“Someone like her?” I groan in frustration. “I could kill ye right now and I wouldn’t feel fucking bad about. You’re such a prick. Someone like her deserves this life that you are so desperate to throw away. She deserves that. Just because she hasn’t had it easy doesn’t mean she’s some whore.”
“Rowan, she’s a goddamn stripper.”
“She was a virgin! A virgin, Gerald. She doesn’t strip. I’ve seen her dance. She’s a performer. God!” I scrub my hands over my face. “Stop calling her a whore and a stripper or you’re going to be swallowing those new veneers that dad paid for.”
“I didn’t know, brother. I’m sorry,” he says, laying his hand on my shoulder. “But she’s right, she doesn’t fit the image of the family. We have rules. We have expectations and traditions.”
“Why, because she isn’t your typical white-bred, aristocratic, pompous, elitist–”
“Hold on, aye. You know what I mean. You know what’s expected of someone like us.
“The hell with all of them if it means I can’t have her.”
“You’d give up the crown for her?”
My eyes burn. I haven’t cried since I was five and my parents died in a car accident, but a life without Ella? A life without her touch, laugh, smile, voice, and love? That’s a hell I never want to b
e in.
“In a heartbeat, Gerald.”
“Well, then let’s go get your girl back.”
“I’ll never forgive you if this is ruined,” I warn.
“Fine, you can blame me if it makes you feel better, but you know at the end of the day, the only person you should blame is yourself for not being upfront. This could have been avoided. You could have given her the choice to either stay or go but you didn’t. You took her virginity and she didn’t even have all of the facts.”
“Fuck you!”
I slam the door to my bedroom and push the lamps and vases off the dressers and nightstand. I’m sweating. My chest is heaving. My heart is aching. I never thought it would end like this. When I told her, I thought she’d be happy, in love, and I’d be easily forgiven. Not once did I think she’d feel like she’d truly been betrayed.
We belong together. I just have to find her and prove it to her. We can bend the rules and traditions and make our own. Ella is and will forever be mine. A fact she is going to have to face like it or not.
A knock at the bedroom door sounds and I swing the door open with a look on my face promising murder if I’m not left alone.
“It’s dad.” Gerald brings the phone from his ear. “He is being rushed to the hospital. Rowan, this is it.” Gerald drops his phone and it clatters on the floor as he stumbles back. “I don’t want dad to die. I can’t go back.”
All my anger at the moment vanishes. The want for Ella still remains, but if there is one thing I know for certain, I’ll be back for her. My brother is here not for me but to not face the reality of our father dying. He isn’t good with change either. He has never been the kind to lead. It’s always been up to me.
It’s time for me to take matters in my own hands and stop running.
It’s time for me to face my destiny.
I’m going home.
Chapter Ten
Ella
I slam the front door to the house and run upstairs, doing my best to keep my tears at bay. I knew it. I can’t believe that for weeks I didn’t recognize who he was. For weeks I didn’t realize I was falling for a man I’ve seen on supermarket gossip magazines a dozen times. God, I’m so stupid. If I had looked harder and stopped thinking with my heart instead of my mind, I would have seen it. I’ve never felt so used and so cheap, just like a whore.
Did he ever really care about me? Was I just a change of pace? A challenge? Something to get off on before he runs back to England and sips on his fancy tea and plays cricket. Or whatever the royal family does when they aren’t doing royalty things.
See? I don’t even know.
Another reason for me not to be involved in his life.
I kick my door open to my bedroom, still sobbing, and look around through blurry eyes and run to my dresser, pouring out all my outfits I have for work.
I quit.
I never want to perform again.
“Honey, what is wrong? What is with you coming into the house like a bat out of hell?” my mom says from behind me.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
I shove the lingerie into a tiny trashcan, trying to force it all inside, but there are too many clothes for the small plastic container.
“What’s all this?” My mother hones her eyes in on a skimpy red lace teddy in the trash. “Are you a hooker too? Gabriella, you better be honest with me.”
“I’m not a hooker!” I shout, feeling my world fall from underneath me. “I was a stripper. I mean I didn’t even strip. I only danced. I swear. I never showed anything. But it’s time you know, I’m not a CNA. I’m not a daughter you can be proud of, okay?”
How could she possibly be proud of me? I’ve made a mess of things.
Oh wait a minute, it just hit me, I can’t quit.
I have to make fifty grand in two weeks or it's my life.
“Baby,” she squats down and takes my hand. “It’s ok. I know that you’re a dancer already.”
“Wait, what? How? No, I left in scrubs everyday.” I wipe my cheeks on my shirt to dry them. “You think I’m a CNA.”
“You think you’re the only one that does laundry around here? You think you’re the only one that knows people? Sharon’s daughter Kelly said her boyfriend was at the strip club. He saw you dancin’ there, hun’.”
Oh my god.
I didn’t think Vegas was that small.
“You’re not mad?” I ask.
“No, dear. I just wish you felt like you could have told me. I know things haven’t been easy, but I can go back to work soon. You don’t have to keep doing things like this. But why do I have a feeling that’s not what’s wrong? You have never come home this upset before.”
“I really don’t want to talk about it, mom.”
“Is it a man?” she asks, taking the black teddy from my hands and tsking when she holds it up so she can look at it. “I remember when I could wear things like this. I looked damn good in it too.”
I snatch the teddy back and laugh.
“Mom! Gross, I don’t need to hear that.”
“Gross? How do you think you got here. Listen, stop crying and tell me what happened, Ella.”
I shake my head and then the tears start again.
“I can’t. I can’t stop. I can’t.”
“Ella. Don’t make me slap you. I will. You will never be too old for a good whoopin’.” She grabs my shoulders and helps me up, sitting on the bed and guides me next to her. “Breathe, baby. Talk to me.”
I try and do what she says and my stomach knots and twists with agony.
“I fell in love with a man. A good man, a handsome man, but he kept a really big secret from me and now that I know, there’s no mistaking that I don’t belong in his life.”
“What do you mean you don’t belong in his life? Why are you talking down about my daughter like that?” She puts her arm around me and pulls me into a comforting embrace. “Baby, love is love. It knows no bounds, no riches, no looks, none of that. You can love someone who is wrong for you in every way possible. In a way that doesn’t make sense, but it’s the one way that matters.”
“Not this time.”
I wipe my face and adjust my position, feeling the ache between my legs. It reminds me of last night and my heart breaks all over again. He had to have felt that between us last night. I gave him my virginity. He said he loved me. Did he mean it? Or was that all a part of the vacation from his reality.
I guess what happens in Vegas really does stay in Vegas…
“You’ll figure it out. If you want to talk more, call me, okay?”
I blink up at her when she stands and that’s when I notice she has on a dress, showing the scar down the middle of her chest.
“Where are you going?”
“I have a date! Wish me, luck baby.”
“Wait one dang minute.”
“I know it’s exciting, right?”
“But your heart…”
“Is healed.” Her face softens and she cups my face with her cold hands. “Now heal yours now, baby.”
She leaves me alone in the room with lace and leather. What have I done? Six months ago, my life wouldn’t have been like this. I’m surrounded by all my bad mistakes and the one time I thought everything had come together, it only fell apart.
The revelation of who he is only just happened and I already miss Rowan. I miss him with every breath I take. Spending time together over the last few weeks is one thing, sleeping in his bed is another. I didn’t think my feelings for him could grow any more than they had but after last night?
I know I’ll never love a man like I love Rowan. He’s different. The way he is with me. He really has no expectations and he likes it when I dance. Never once has he judged me.
Did I judge him? Did I just automatically assume he was only using me? Even if I did, it still leaves the one truth in the air. How do I fit into his life?
I take out my phone and click on my gallery app and instantly several weeks worth of pictures
of him and I pop up, smiling, laughing, him kissing me. We didn’t have a lot of time but we shared a lot of laughter and experiences together. This is photographic proof.
A shiver runs down my spine, wishing his warm arms were around me to keep the cold out. I loathe myself for how I’ve acted, but I’ve never been the one to act logically when I’m upset. My emotions run me.
My phone dings and I hope it’s Rowan, but when I look, I see it’s a message from Bobby.
“Angel called out sick. Get your ass here. You better show more tonight or you’re fired. You’re on thin ice with me.”
A low rumble leaves my chest. Frustrated by the message, I toss my phone on the bed and really think about my life. Rowan and I might be different but he taught me a lot about valuing myself. I deserve better than this. And I can’t be mad at him for keeping secrets when I’ve been keeping one too. A secret that I have to deal with. A secret that I can no longer pray goes away. Maybe the best way to pay Rick back is through showing skin. I need fifty thousand−dollars and the only way to make that happen is to work.
I text Bobby back and tell him I’ll be there. I have to put Rowan out of my mind and get back to what I do best. Rowan isn’t going to pay my debts. He shouldn’t have to. I got myself into this situation so it’s only fair I get myself out. My mother will never have to do, and Rowan will never have to know.
If I ever see him again.
If not, falling for him was good while it lasted. Rowan is a fairytale, but Ricky is a reality.
I rub my temples and look through my outfits that I’ve poured out on the floor, and try and pick one.
“Lots of good outfits you have there. Maybe you can model them for me.”
The voice behind me sends tendrils of fear around my spine, seizing the air in my lungs and my ability to think.
“Ricky,” I whisper.
“You have my money?”
“No. Tony said I had until the end of the month.”
“I changed my mind.”
I lift my head to stare at the older man. He has silver hair and a round, protruding belly that reminds me of Santa. He lights a cigar and the end of it glows orange as he puffs on it. Behind him, Zach and Tony come out. Zach has a camera and Tony has a bag. I don’t know what them having those things means, but it scares the hell out of me.
