Royal Pains Read online

  Royal Pains

  Magnolia Robbins

  Copyright © 2017 by Magnolia Robbins. All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to Sarah, who inspired me to start writing lesbian romance and has been a driving force in my journey as an author. I will always be grateful to you.

  Special thanks to John, whose humor and advice is always much appreciated.

  Chapter 1

  Penelope

  I am late. Horrendously late.

  “Brutus for the LOVE of GOD, GO PEE!” My voice comes out in a hushed and snappy tone. He looks up at me with his big brown eyes and rolling tongue and I swear he’s mocking me. It is all I could do not to throw the leash on the ground and let him roam free down the New York City streets.

  Finally, the English bulldog manages to find a small spot he likes and relieves himself. We run back up three flights of stairs to my father and my lofty apartment and I let him romp around. I scatter to the kitchen and pour Smokey some food. As I set it on the floor he rubs against my legs and I lean down and scratch him behind the ears. He purrs for a minute before stuffing his cute little kitty face in his dinner.

  Only recently had my closet acquired a new selection of clothes. Where there was once a collection of band t-shirts and well-loved jeans, now contained a few sets of dresses and blouses from which I pick through at rapid speed. I decide on a light purple dress that the stylist at the department store said “would bring out my eyes”. Whatever that meant.

  Once I change, I run to the kitchen again to check on the lasagna in the oven.

  Good, it still needed a while longer. Wait, that was bad. Very bad. I needed to be out of this house and soon.

  I rush to the bathroom to find that my short blonde hair was going in eight different directions. After fidgeting with it for a while, I run a straightener through it as best I can and wear it like normal. That is a fight I’m not going to win. My new contacts proved to be another losing battle, so I reluctantly settle for my glasses.

  As soon as I give myself a good look-over in the mirror, I realize there are remnants of Brutus and Smokey all over me. I do my best to remove the evidence as I make my way back into the living room.

  “We’re reporting live from the small country of Liechtenstein, where the royal family is celebrating the birth of their newest son, Jakob Vogt III. The Vogt’s have reigned over this sixty square mile nation for hundreds of years.”

  The news on the television flickers off and I toss the remote on to the couch as I move into the kitchen. When I check on the lasagna, the cheese is browning nicely on top. It smells delicious when it comes out of the oven. I cut a small slice for myself and scarf it down.

  Afterward, my sloppy handwriting makes its way on a post-it note for my father. I slap it to the counter next to the rest of the lasagna. Enjoy! I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, Penny

  It’s almost too painful for me to look at the time. I give Brutus and Smokey some love before I leave. Then I stumble out the door in my high heels towards my old Subaru parked out front of the complex building. As usual, the neighbors have left me barely enough room to back out onto the street and it sends me into a small panic.

  As I’m getting in my car, the drizzling rain starts. If I hadn’t already been mind-bogglingly late, the crappy weather hadn’t commenced, and I wasn’t wearing two-inch heels, I would have opted to walk the eight blocks to the University. Instead, I made the even worse mistake of getting into Manhattan traffic.

  Obscenities fly as I sit, not very patiently, to make it to a parking space near the building that I could only pray the social was being held in. As I find my way out into the street, I feel my leg give out from under me and a loud snap fills the air. My entire body nearly crumbles to the ground, but I manage to catch myself on the side of my car. As I hobble to the street curb, the rain starts to pelt down.

  With one missing heel, I rip open the back door of my car, digging through mountains of crap I should have removed years ago for something else to wear. A pair of old black and white converse sneakers appear in the pile and I stuff them on my feet without thinking twice about it. I check the time as I rush to the meter to pay. I was now officially an hour late. Damn it.

  My credit card flies into the machine at lightning speed, and I wait for it to finish the transaction. Just as I feel as if the night couldn’t get any worse, I turn toward the road. A car came to a rapid stop, its wheels tossing up street water into the air. It is like the world moves in slow motion for those few seconds and I know that it is coming for me. A shower of a disgusting dirty mess, drenching me from top to bottom.

  I stand there on the side of the road, contemplating turning around and walking back home when I hear a faint call over the traffic noise. The car that has wreaked havoc on me parks and I watch a woman run down the sidewalk toward me. She is beautiful, with golden blonde hair and wearing a striking black dress. If I hadn’t had been wet, freezing to death, and pissed off to all hell, I would have taken good note of her.

  When she reaches me, she holds her umbrella over top of my head, and I let out a shivering laugh, in spite of everything. As if that was going to do any good now.

  “Are you alright?” I can tell by the expression on her face how terrible she felt. Suddenly it is very awkward to look her in the eyes. My heart races as I try to think of something to say.

  “I’m fine,” I reply, feeling the puddles of water surrounding my feet in the sneakers I now wore. From the backseat of my car I pull out a pair of jeans and an all too familiar band shirt from my undergrad years out and stuff them into my arms. As I look up at her again, my eyes grow wide. By the look on her face, she has came to the same realization.

  “Are you a new med student?” she asks me, and my heart skips a beat. I nod to her, and she smiles. “I’m Astrid.” I watch as she holds out her hand to me.

  “Penelope,” I reply, barely managing to shake her hand in return. “Call me Penny.” She has a striking accent. German, I think. When she finally releases her hand from mine, I can breathe again.

  “I’m so sorry again,” she smiles at me embarrassed. The two of us start down the street towards the building. “Are you sure you’re alright?” I nod, and she looks relieved. “At least we have a fun party to look forward to.”

  Yes, fun. If you thought socializing with a bunch of strangers that would be your competition for the next four years was fun. Then, sure.

  As soon as we make it inside, I make a b-line for the bathroom, separating myself as far away from the beautiful lunatic driver as I can.

  I grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and make my way into a stall to remove the sloppy wet dress from my body. As soon as I get back into dry clothes, I feel much better. The hand dryer runs non-stop for a long time as I hold my converse sneakers up to dry. Just as I’m finishing, a woman enters, and I panic. “It’s occupied!”

  Except the woman had dark brown hair and looked nothing like Astrid. I feel myself getting horrendously embarrassed. “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on you. I just really need to—“ She motions towards the stall, an
d I nod. When she comes out again, I am putting on my shoes once more. It feels much better now that I’m not squishing around.

  “Oh thank God, I was about to burst,” the brunette woman says and smiles at me. I can blood rushing to my face, and I look away for a moment trying to calm myself. She washes and dries her hands and then comes to face me.

  “I’m Charlotte,” she says, holding out her hand. What is with people and the hand shaking? I guess I needed to start getting used to it. She had an accent too, from somewhere in the south. If I had to take a guess, it was likely Mississippi or Georgia, but they all kind of ran together for me at that point. “You’re Penelope Waters, right?”

  I am quite sure my surprise is written all over my face. She laughs a little when she looks at me. “I am a notorious internet stalker, I apologize. I like to get a good idea of my competition ahead of time.” Somehow, in spite of the fact that it really was kind of creepy, she makes it seem less so. Maybe it was the way she smiled at me.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you, Ms. Waters. I’ll see you outside.” I watch her till she disappears out of the room and then breathe a sigh of relief that I’m alone again. It takes me another few minutes to work up the courage to go out and face my peers but finally I manage. I leave my ruined dress in the bathroom to retrieve later.

  Much to my displeasure, the room is filled with people. I wander in carefully, heading towards the bartender at the far end of the room. “What’ll you be having?” He asks me, and I am immediately flustered.

  “Do you have a menu?” I reply, and he looks at me funny.

  As soon as I hear her voice, my heart feels as if it is leaping from my chest. “You should try Apfelwein,” Astrid says beside me. I stare at her for a moment confused. “Hard cider,” she smiles, correcting herself.

  Instead of arguing, I nod to the bartender, and he goes to fetch me one. When I turn to her, she is still smiling. It sends a shiver through me, and immediately I am very uncomfortable.

  “I don’t drink either,” she admits, sitting down in the seat next to me. “Hard cider is my favorite. Especially if you like apples.”

  “How do you know I don’t drink?” I manage to ask.

  “You asked for a menu,” she notes, giving me another one of her smiles and I have to look away from her when she does, embarrassed.

  When the waiter brings me back the drink, I can smell the alcohol in it. Good, whatever it took to make me not feel like I wanted to get the hell out of dodge. Astrid watches me as I take a small sip. Before I knew it, I have taken another, and another. She smiles pleased when I finally set it back down on the counter.

  “I like apples,” I say quietly. If she doesn’t quit smiling at me, I’m liable to drink the entire rest of the drink in one fell swoop. We swivel on the barstools and look out at the crowd together. I can almost spot the first year students by their nervous body language when they approach others. It makes me relieved that I wasn’t the only one that felt as if I might explode from anxiety.

  Once I’ve finished most of my drink, I finally have enough courage to speak to her.

  “So are you from Germany?” It was the first thing I could think of to say. “I was just wondering because of your accent.” She takes pause for a moment before she nods.

  “Did you know Germany was the first country in the world to adopt daylight savings time?” I ask her. Way to go, Penny, that’s a show stopper right there.

  I’m surprised when Astrid looks fascinated. She sits through my random facts as if they are the most interesting thing in the world. When I’ve finished, she laughs.

  “I didn’t know someone could know so many interesting things about a country,” she smiles at me and it makes my heart do crazy things in my chest. As she is about to speak, she lets out a string of tiny adorable sneezes.

  “Are you alright?” I ask her when she’s finished. She nods and hops up from her seat. “Come on Penelope, I think it’s time we go introduce ourselves.”

  “My name is Penny,” I remind her as we walk down into the crowd.

  Astrid and I make the rounds through students and faculty. I can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or the fact that she does most of the talking when we approach people, but suddenly I don’t feel as nervous anymore. Charlotte and I meet up again, and I introduce her to Astrid.

  “Now, you’re a bit of a mystery,” Charlotte says when she looks at her. I can only assume it’s about her stalking. “You do a very good job of keeping yourself a secret.” Astrid’s face looks about as uncomfortable as mine had when she met me on the side of the street outside. “We’ll have to keep a careful eye on this one,” Charlotte says, and the three of us laugh.

  “Hello ladies,” a lanky young man approaches us with thick swoopy brown hair and dainty looking everything. He flashes us a smile, holding a drink in his hand. “I’m Oliver.” I guess he was likely a native to the same area Charlotte was from, judging by his accent. He wraps his arm around Charlotte’s waist, and she swoons over him, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

  The four of us chat for a while until the music starts to play. I watch as small groups of people congregate out to the center of the room. If socializing wasn’t enough, dancing was the worst. Charlotte and Oliver apparently liked making bad decisions because as soon as the crowd began to gather, they started to make their way in it.

  Astrid and I watched from the sidelines for a song or two. Whitney Houston comes on to the speakers, and she looks to me playfully.

  “No,” I say firmly to her, and she lets out a little laugh.

  “I want to dance with somebody,” she sings along, in an adorably off-key voice that mixed with her thick accent was hard not to smile at.

  “How do you know this song?” I say loudly over the music. She just smiles at me, nodding towards the crowd of people dancing.

  “Feel the heat with somebody.”

  “No,” I tell her again, trying my best not to give in. My face is flushed to the point it is burning.

  She continues singing, and before I know it, I feel her hand wrap around mine. Her touch sends a shiver through me. Even in my extreme displeasure, I let her drag me out. We find our way next to Oliver and Charlotte, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself go.

  When I find myself looking at Astrid, swaying to the music and smiling at me, I realize I’m in big trouble. I am about to embark on the four most difficult years of my life, and I have already made a fatal mistake, and it wasn’t even my first day.

  I like her. I like her a lot.

  Chapter 2

  Astrid

  The Manhattan skyline stretched around me in every direction as I made my way outside the airport. The sun was just starting to set, filling the skies with brilliant pink and purple hues. While I’d visited many times over the years, it was vastly different from the views of the Alps out of my window, the tree covered hills and the grassy plains. Yet every time I saw it, it was just as breathtaking.

  “Get out of the way, lady!” A man yells at me, and I realize I’m standing in the middle of the doorway.

  “I’m so sorry!” I apologize, dragging my luggage down the sidewalk. He gives me a strange look before he makes his way across the street. As I stand and admire the view, I hear a car honking. When I turn to look, my cousin, Zoe is hanging her head out of my Aunt Nina’s SUV, waving at me happily.

  As soon as I reach her, she wraps her arms around my neck through the window.

  “How are you, Liebling?” Darling. I laugh, hugging her back.

  “Get in, get in!” Nina calls to me, and I swing my luggage into the back seat, hopping inside. Zoe and I continue our extended hug as soon as I can reach her again.

  “You two act like you haven’t seen each other in years,” Nina says as she makes her way out onto the city roads.

  “It feels like years,” I sigh, squeezing her shoulder. It had only been a few months since we’d last parted ways. I look out the window as the city begins to engulf us. Buildings
surround us in every direction as we make our way onto the highway.

  “Did you have good flights?” Nina asks me. “Your mother just called to see if you arrived safely.” My mother, always one step behind me.

  “I’m glad it’s over,” I reply, taking a long deep breath. It is a whole exhausting day of flying to get to New York.

  My aunt's sixty-fifth-floor penthouse in Manhattan never ceases to amaze me. It is like a mansion on top of a building. Far larger and grander than anything anyone could ever need or want, but Nina had always been larger than life. “If you have the money, why not spend it?”

  The two story windows fill my view in every direction as the elevator doors open. It is luxuriously white and clean, just the way she likes it. Zoe leads me up to the guest suite, like a private home for all the visitors my aunt had. Now, at her insistence, it would be my home for the next four years of my life.

  After I unpack, my cousin comes back bearing a gift wrapped in a department store box. A beautiful black cocktail dress lies inside. We stand for a moment, admiring the view through the large glass windows that line the room.

  “Do you think the dress will work for tonight?” Zoe asks as I pull it from its resting place.

  “It’s perfect!” I smile at her, and she hugs me.

  Zoe stays and helps me get ready. Even though it’s only been a few short months, I crave her company. Never having a sister, she is as close to one as I know. Outside of the fact that I love the city, if there is another reason I came here for school, it is her.

  As Zoe finishes fixing my makeup for me, Nina knocks.

  “Come in!” We both call and I hear her wander inside. Even for a guest space, the place is so big it takes her a minute to find us.

  “Oh, Schatzi,” Sweetheart. She says when she sees me. “You look beautiful.” Zoe stands proudly beside me as I get to my feet.

  “All thanks to the amazing artist,” I motion towards my cousin who takes a small, proud bow.