A Love that Endures 3 Page 16

  With a deep breath, David pushed up on his hands and spat out a frothy mess of blood. There were people on the street around him. He knew they were looking in confusion and shock at the mess. But no one moved to help him. Being thrown out of the palace probably wasn’t a good look.

  “Is that David Rosen?”

  David spat out more blood. Well, this was bound to happen. It’ll be frontpage news tomorrow, too. For anyone who isn’t here to witness this embarrassment firsthand.

  A flash erupted behind David. Even with a possible concussion, he knew what it was.

  More flashes lit up behind him as people stopped to take photos with their smartphones. David pushed himself all the way up and sat, but his ankle was too sore to stand. He was utterly defeated and alone. And he had no idea how he’d even get back to his hotel room.

  Just as David began to feel completely and miserably helpless, a particular Scouse accent cut through the night.

  “Sod off! Get away from ‘im!”

  “Mick,” David said in relief. He could barely see, but he would know that voice anywhere.

  “Yeah, lad,” Mick said gently but urgently. “That Spanish bird ‘ad us nearby in case we needed to come scrape ya off the asphalt. Looks like she knew something you didn’t.”

  Us? David wanted to ask. But he quickly understood.

  “Palace jobs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, anyway,” Rufus said.

  “Come on, mate. We’ve got you,” Giles said firmly.

  Once again, hands took hold of David’s limbs. But this time they were gentle and comforting, pulling him up and helping him to his feet. David limped along with his friends as they carried him away.

  “So,” Mick asked in a sing-song voice when they were far enough away from the crowd. “Did you get your bird back?”

  * * *

  “I suggest you leave at once, Mr. Rosen.”

  David held a bloodstained handkerchief against his swollen lip as he stared down the snobby hotel manager. It had taken almost an hour to get back to the room on his tender ankle, and this was the last thing he wanted to hear.

  Had news really traveled that quickly?

  “Sir, whatever name it may be under, I am still paid through the rest of this week. I need access to my room,” David replied.

  “You have no room here, Mr. Rosen. Nor your vagabond friends. However, certain guests who do have rooms here were present at the palace affair this evening, so fortunately I’ve been informed of what transpired. And, looking at you now, it’s obvious that you are the culprit.” The manager narrowed his eyes. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere before.”

  “But the room’s paid, chap,” Mick said in frustration.

  The manager refused to acknowledge him. He kept his eyes on David. “This hotel reserves the right to refuse service to anyone. For any reason. And the reasons why we’d refuse service to you should be obvious.” The man outstretched his hand. “Now hand over your key, or we will involve the police.”

  “C’mon, David. Let’s just go back to camp,” Giles said. He, Mick, and Rufus had hung back initially, but when David found that his ankle was still too pained to apply weight to, they’d had to come in and assist. Which made three clearly homeless people walking a man who looked like he’d just lost a quick cage fight into one of the fanciest hotels in London.

  “I have to get my things, at least,” David said, trying to clear his head from the muddle of pain and the deep unfairness of the situation. He had given Katy his room number to contact him. It was the only thing she would know of him, unless Mia was willing to pass his phone number along to her.

  But David hadn’t even heard from Mia, and she wasn’t answering her phone. With every passing minute, he was becoming more concerned about her fate. What if Cassie, or the king and queen, had found out that the PI had assisted him in getting to Katy? What kind of measures would they be willing to take? And if they hadn’t found out about Mia and David’s plan yet, how long could it really be before they figured it out?

  “Your things, if in fact they actually belong to you, were a liability for this establishment. You can find them by the bin in the alley outside.”

  David felt righteous indignation course through him, but it was tempered by reason. The best chance he had now of getting close to Katy was by keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. Getting the police called on him at a fancy hotel would only make him look all the more conniving and guilty.

  So, without another word, he turned and limped out of the lobby, helped by Rufus, Giles, and Mick. When they reached the street, they turned and made for the alley behind the hotel.

  “S’not all bad, actually,” Mick offered, in usual Mick fashion. “Bet there’s lots of rich people trash back there. Barely scuffed loafers. Nice clothes with tiny stains. Probably still leave wine in their trashed bottles, even!”

  “I don’t think you’re making him feel much better, man,” Rufus chided.

  But David didn’t really care. He didn’t feel better listening to Mick’s musings, but they weren’t making anything worse. He was still somewhat numb to everything. He didn’t know what to think or what to do next, and he wasn’t even sure why it mattered to him to get his stuff back. His fancy clothes and accessories had failed him. He had gotten close enough to make a difference, but he hadn’t been able to say anything of import.

  And now he might’ve blown his chance forever.

  Behind the hotel, Giles, Rufus, and Mick sat David down on an overturned aluminum bin and began to rifle through the trash around them for clothes, shoes, and other treasures, whether David’s or not. From his seat, David reached down to touch his ankle. It was swollen and bruised, but, as he experimented with his range of motion, he determined that it probably wasn’t twisted or broken.

  “Oh, wicked! A cheese plate! Got fruit and crackers and bleu cheese and everything,” Mick shouted out.

  “I don’t think that’s bleu cheese, mate,” Rufus said with disgust.

  Mick dropped the plate.

  “I found some loafers over here,” Giles said.

  But as his friends worked, David wondered again what the point even was. What was he going to do? Go back to the camp with his silver cufflinks and nice watch? They’d be nicked off of him in hours. No, it’d be best to just pawn the things now and at least be able to repay his friends with a hot meal. Maybe he’d even have enough for a couple of nights in a budget hotel.

  But how would he pay Mia back? And what about Katy? Was that plan shot to hell already? Could nothing more be done? After all this effort, how could he go back to living his life the way he’d been?

  David was startled by a vibrating in his pocket. He pulled his phone out to see Mia’s name on the screen.

  “Hello?” David mumbled through his fat lip.

  “Are you at the hotel room?”

  “There is no hotel room anymore,” David replied. He didn’t have to explain. “Are you still at the palace? Are you safe?”

  “Sí, Señor. Safe. But I left the palace. I’m not sure how much Katy will tell her cousin and others, but she is obviously aware of my personal involvement. We’ll just have to see who else finds out.”

  “Mia, what now? What about our plan?” David was afraid to ask, though he knew he had to. But he couldn’t bear to hear the answer that he already knew was coming.

  “I don’t know, Señor. I just don’t know.”

  David felt his heart clench in his chest. They’d had one good chance, and David had been too bewitched by Katy, too full of a jumble of emotions, to even say most of the things he’d needed to say. To be fair, he hadn’t been planning to just shout it all out at her immediately upon seeing her. He’d known it would’ve made him look crazed and perhaps even frightening. But he’d been hoping to say some of what he needed to say. And he had barely been able to. Not before Cassie had arrived and ruined everything.

  “Keep your phone on you. Stay away from police and reporters. Wait for my cal
l,” Mia finished cryptically. She said nothing else and then hung up.

  “Found a belt!” Rufus called from the trash bin.

  But David wasn’t sure he cared. He wasn’t sure it mattered. He wasn’t sure anything mattered, except for the goal that he was now even more resolved to accomplish.

  Telling Katy the truth is all that matters. And I can’t give up until I figure out a new way to do it.

  22

  Katy

  “David! David!” Katy called out, rapidly being drowned in the flood of onlookers. She tried to follow the security guards, shoving past a Scottish duke and roughly bumping hips with a famous American actress.

  “Princess!” someone called out to her. But she didn’t stop or acknowledge them. She took another difficult step through the crowd—so many people milling around in their finery, and none of them sensible enough to get out of her way.

  “Make way!” she shouted, unwilling to stop trying. But the small palace backway was so loud and so packed now that only a few people around her turned back to look at her. And there wasn’t that much space to move even when they did.

  “All right, we need to clear this hallway out!” a security guard yelled over the crowd, his loud voice resounding through the chatter. “Please make your way back to the ballroom!”

  The mass of people had just begun to dissipate, as people moved in the direction of the party space again, leaving Katy a chance to slip through, when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

  “Katerina, darling! Are you okay?”

  The queen was to her right, shoving through the throng of people to reach her daughter. Katy sighed. She didn’t want to stop her search for David, but she also couldn’t move forward. She was stuck, and everything that had just happened was replaying itself in her head over and over as she tried to understand . . .

  “I’m fine, Mama. I’m fine,” Katy replied quickly, realizing she couldn’t just ignore her own mother. Instead she focused on catching her breath and readjusting her dress from her headlong push through the crowd. But she couldn’t help inching slowly toward the door through which the security guards had exited on their way, no doubt, to kick David out of the palace.

  Toward David . . .

  As the queen tutted over her, making fussy comments about the commotion, Katy listened for any sound of what had happened. She couldn’t make out any of the dozens of individual conversations around her, but she could hear one phrase repeated ad nauseum.

  David Rosen. David Rosen. DAVID ROSEN!

  “Did he hurt you, honey?” the king asked Katy as he reached his wife’s side. Just moments ago she had heard his angry, imposing voice yelling out over the crowd at David. The harsh tones were still ringing in her mind. . . Get that scum out of this palace!

  “What?” Katy indignantly shook her head at her father. She knew that he’d just been trying to protect her, but, with all the seething emotions swirling around in her head, she couldn’t help feeling a rising frustration with him. And with Cassie. And with all of them. “No, of course he didn’t hurt me! He just wanted to talk, and I . . .”

  “Is the princess okay?”

  “Princess Katerina, is everything all right?”

  “Is it true? Was it him?”

  “Katerina!”

  Katy closed her eyes, squeezing them tight to try to block out the oppressive reality around her. She was getting horrible flashbacks to the pain she had endured years ago, when she and David were dating and the whole world had seen pictures of them in a private, intimate moment that looked so much more scandalous than it actually was. She could still hear the gasps of her parents. She could still see the disappointment on their faces.

  She could still see the terrible, exaggerated headlines.

  Dirty Princess Romp with Sexy David!

  Harvard Lothario David? Side Ladies Tell All!

  The Princess and the Criminal?! David Arrested for Intent to Sell!

  The king and queen were beside her, both of them fussing, but Katy barely heard them. Everyone was pressing too close with their curiosity, opinions, and reassurances. “Would you all please give me some space!” Katy cried out, her eyes flying open. “This party is over. I have to go find . . .”

  “Katerina, love. Let me help you get away from here.”

  The gentleness of the voice surprised her. Katy turned to see Oliver there beside her. How long had he been there? There was so much pandemonium in the hallway now that Katy could’ve overlooked his presence entirely except for his quiet voice in her ear.

  “Oh, thank you, Oliver,” the queen breathed out in relief. “We’ll handle things down here.”

  Katy looked uncomfortably into Oliver’s kind, patient eyes. In truth, she didn’t want to be led away, toward her stateroom. But she didn’t know how to tell him that she needed to go find David, either.

  How do I open up to my fiancé about the love I still have for my ex-boyfriend?

  Though a need to move was still seething in her chest, she allowed Oliver to wrap his arm around her, leading her through the packed hallway and out toward the staterooms of the palace. David’s words echoed in her mind: The Wych Elm. Room 402. She knew where to find the man she needed to see. What she didn’t know was how to talk to her fiancé. And maybe the rest of her family, too. She tried to focus on what to do next. Everything was swirling around in her head, each new development, all the conflicting feelings, choking before they got to her throat.

  But as they passed the main entrance of the palace—where just a few minutes earlier security had most likely shoved David out the door like a battering ram, ignoring both his protests and hers—something overtook her. An emotion deep inside her reared up.

  Maybe he’s still right outside.

  Katy pulled away from Oliver wordlessly, shaking off his grip, and simply ran for the door.

  “Katy!”

  But she couldn’t be stopped now. After five long years, she knew that David was still thinking of her, and that there was a real reason that she had never wanted to believe what had happened. She’d so recently realized that she needed to hear his side of the story—and now he’d appeared in front of her willing to tell it.

  Only to be interrupted. The one part of the story she’d been longing to hear the whole time, and he hadn’t been able to finish his sentence.

  She had to hear what David had been trying to say. No matter what.

  Katy rushed through the door and past a line of guards.

  “Princess!” someone yelled. A drizzle of rain was falling, instantly coating Katy’s upswept hair and soaking through her sapphire gown. But she didn’t care about that at the moment. She only cared about one thing.

  “Where’s David?” Katy asked of the guards. “What did they do with him?”

  She was met with blank stares and slack jaws.

  “Princess,” another man said. It sounded like he was trying to reason with her. And Katy wasn’t having it.

  She sped past the guards and toward the street just as Oliver made it outside.

  “Katerina!”

  Katy was already on her way down the drive, her low heels clicking furiously against the cobblestones.

  She hit the gate hard with her hands, her eyes scanning the street outside through the bars, left, right.

  “David!” she cried. He had been right there just moments ago. He couldn’t have gotten far in just a few long minutes—especially given how roughly the guards had treated him.

  The street held nothing for her. A few tourists were ambling around in the darkness, snapping photos of the palace, but David was gone.

  Katy felt her hope crumble in her chest. Her mind frantically tried to remember the short, winded conversation they’d had, searching for clues.

  Deceived. The truth. He had said a lot of cryptic things, hinting at something that he’d wanted to tell her, nothing clear enough to make any conclusions. She ran through the conversation again, rain dripping down her forehead. But she already knew t
hen what she had to do.

  The Wych Elm. He’d given her a place to find him.

  She turned around, ready to rush back to the ballroom, where her phone was sitting in her matching clutch, not thinking of anything but how to get ahold of David. But when she faced the palace again, the consequences of her actions came hammering back to her.

  Oliver was standing there, only yards away from her now. And his eyes expressed a painful realization that he didn’t have to voice.

  It was the look of a man who suddenly understood the years of doubt, hesitancy, and confusion. The look of a man who realized that no amount of time or love or support could ever change things.

  The look of a man who had to come to terms with the fact that his fiancée was in love with someone else.

  * * *

  “Katy? Can I come in?”

  Cassie had been knocking for long enough that she’d resorted to talking through the door.

  Katy clutched the phone closer to her ear, determined to finish her phone call before she was interrupted. She whispered into the mouthpiece.

  “Rosen. David Rosen. R-O-S . . .”

  “I heard you the first time, madam.” The hotel clerk’s tone was acidic. “No. We don’t have a David Rosen at this hotel. Not any longer.”

  Oh, no. He must’ve gotten kicked out. Probably after the disaster at the palace.

  “And some advice while I’ve got you on the line, madam? Find better friends.”

  The acerbic clerk hung up the phone. Katy rolled her eyes, imagining for a moment the man’s terror if she called him back and told him whom he had just been speaking to. But never mind that. She had bigger concerns than petty revenge against a rude hotel employee.

  “Katy? I know you’re in there, hon. Can we talk?”