Title: The Royal Romance: Becoming a Princess
Author: Amanda Rau (manda091987)
Game: The Royal Romance in the Choices app by Pixelberry Studio
Characters/Pairing: (Characters) All from The Royal Romance (Pairing) Liam/M.C.
Disclaimer 1: All characters and story are the sole property of Pixelberry Studio. Mackenzie Grey is mine. Please ask for permission for the use of any added material, situations, or characters.
Disclaimer 2: My rendition will be slightly darker in theme than the story in the app.
Mackenzie and Daniel were behind the bar. A young man that stood at a mere five-six, 120 pounds, soaking wet. His cyan eyes and child-like smile always brought Mackenzie peace. Daniel was a fellow waiter at McFlattery's Pub and Grille. The two were hired in unison over four years ago, which made them instantly form a tight bond. It was a necessary one, given that their now glaring manager was always subjecting them to his ornery behavior.
"Would you two quit playing around. I need you to go back to the kitchen and take out the garbage for the chefs," the manager snipped.
The manager of the pub, Mitch Jones, was of Hispanic descent. Dark hair, five-eight, and a thin face with an expression permanently stuck in resting bitch. He even acted like one. He had gotten this job 13 years ago and went from the great guy everyone liked to the overbearing leader no one trusted. The owner even had meetings with him about his behavior, but the owner himself wasn't much better.
Mackenzie and Daniel observed his contorted features. Mitch had asked them ten minutes ago to tackle the glasses behind the bar that had been left in the wake of the late evening's rush. The surge in business, consisting mostly of those who desired to wind down from an exhausting schedule. They were only halfway done; Daniel washing one glass, and Mackenzie in the middle of drying another. They glanced from the cups in their hands, back to their manager.
"We aren't finished with the dishes."
"Don't mouth off, Daniel!"
Daniel's jaw dropped as if to say something, but refrained.
"We'll take care of it." Mackenzie gave a slight bob of her head.
Mitch left the room, Daniel sighing. "Thanks, Kenzie."
"Of course. Let's get these done quickly, then talk some trash."
He chuckled. "You got it."
Mackenzie grinned, the two finishing up with the glasses, then hastily putting them in their places.
"I'll meet you back there in just a second," Mackenzie said.
Daniel strutted through the threshold to the kitchen. Mackenzie swiveled around on her heels, peering at Mr. Nelson. The middle-aged man arrived at the restaurant every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, like clockwork, even before Kenzie started working at the establishment. His wife passed away many years ago, but he was content with where it left him. The six-foot-tall, burly man was nothing more than a giant teddy bear. On Friday's, he'd have a few drinks and talk Mackenzie's ear off concerning his week and his career. The older gentleman had come to respect the young waitress for being one of the scant few to continuously take verbal beatings from Mitch.
Mackenzie and Nelson had fallen into a whimsical tradition where he'd go through his week, converse about weekend plans, and after a few more drinks, proposed adopting her. It started as a joke, something the two jested about when they held a contest about who had the worst work week and needed a vacation. However, it continued every week without fail, something to ease tensions, never stopping the ritual or fantasies they'd jokingly play out in attempts to escape the monotony of life, at the end toasting and laughing. The reality was that Nelson loved and cared about Mackenzie. He had a daughter, but she was high-toned and fancy and lived her life separate from him for reasons he never truly understood. The ole man said Kenzie reminded him a lot of who his daughter used to be.
Mackenzie made him another whiskey sour and slid it in front of him. "How many more tonight, Ted?"
"Well," he slurred, "I'm close to our—" he hiccuped "— key roulette."
"Sounds like I have you for three more glasses then. You nurse that one while I get the trash out. Okay?"
"Yes, Dear," Nelson garbled.
Mackenzie and Nelson chuckled as she shuffled to the galley. Daniel was patiently waiting, scrolling through his phone. He quickly crammed it into his apron, relaxing when Mackenzie emerged. She smirked, padding to the trash, a firm grip seizing a sack, then opened the door, Daniel following. They strolled to the dumpster fifteen feet away from the back entrance, tossing the waste inside. Mackenzie hesitated to take another step, letting Manhattan's cool spring breeze brush the stray curls from her appearance.
"You okay, Kenzie?" Daniel asked, putting his hand on her back.
"Oh you know, just another glamorous New York Friday night of hauling garbage to the almighty dumpster."
Daniel snorted. "It could be worse. There could be—" he jumped "—Rats! Kenzie, help!"
He climbed on top of a pile of boxes, screeching. Mackenzie couldn't help but snicker at her friend.
"Don't tell me you're scared of this adorable little mouse family." She shrugged. "They're trying to get by, just like us."
The doors opening cut him off. Mitch peered through. "Hey! Mackenzie, Daniel, quit slacking off!"
Her brows furrowed. "You told us to take out the garbage."
"Now I'm telling you to wait on the bachelor party that just rolled in." He glared. "Chop, chop!"
Mitch disappeared, Mackenzie and Daniel glimpsing at each other, both loudly exhaling. They entered, waltzing to the front after washing. The young employees settled behind the bar, observing the three male customers. One inched forward, waving. A very heterosexual and pretty man with ebony hair, dim eyes, and shaded complexion. His frame was thin and well over six feet.
"Waitress, there you are. We need your best table!"
A ruggedly robust man, slightly taller and dense than the first, skipped forward. He donned a five o'clock shadow that balanced his scraggly brunette hair, and orbs that popped in all their honey-colored glory.
"Forget the table. Just bring us whiskey and lots of it."
"Kenzie, please take this one," Daniel pleaded. "I've got a date tonight. A date you worked hard to help me set up and plan. I'll never make it out of here in time…"
Her mouth formed a surprised expression with wide eyes. "You really want me to take the bachelor party?" She smirked. "Bring on the hot guys."
He snickered. "I want to hear all about this tomorrow."
"Yeah, yeah, just get out of here and live happily ever after for both of us." Mackenzie grinned.
"You really are the best!"
Mitch came over from the other side of the smaller building. "Are you two still talking? I've seated them already. Now get over there before I dock your pay!"
Mitch stomped into the office, a flagrant intensity in his eyes. Daniel removed his apron, kissing Mackenzie's cheek, then bolted from the restaurant. The young woman peered over to Mr. Nelson.
"You need another drink?"
"Nope!" he stuttered. "You take care of those handsome boys before Mitch makes me deck him."
She put her hand on his shoulder, padding to the table where the men were sitting in the booth comfortably spaced out.
"Hello, gentlemen." She smiled, removing her pad from her apron pocket. "My name is Mackenzie, and I'm going to be taking care of you this evening. Can I start you off with some drinks, other than whiskey, and an appetizer?"
An adorable man inched forward. He appeared to be the youngest of the manly entourage. A thin babyface, light tone, with glossy, swarthy strands. His smile was slightly crooked on the bottom, and he appeared to be more manicured than the outdoorsman on his right. He was too cute for words and the apparent rascal just by his inability to motionlessly settle.
"Waitress, steaks for the table," he sang.
The first gentleman to step up was the next to chime in. "How about some filet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a béarnaise sauce?"
"The closest thing we have to a filet mignon is the deluxe burger."
"Dare I ask for your wine list?" he wondered.
She set her hand on the left, near the rugged man, leaning on her leg. "We've got an excellent vintage house red…"
"House red?" he asked, a bit appalled.
"It also comes in white," she said slowly.
"We'll be fine with the bottle of whiskey… and four deluxe burgers," the rugged man said, handing the menus back to her.
She glanced at the three faces in front of her. "Four?"
The craggy male gestured to the background, causing her to glimpse in that direction, seeing yet another charming guy. He towered over her five-foot-five frame. Her guesstimate was around six-two, six-three, brawny, though not as rugged as his counterpart. He was clean-shaven, and possessed a chiseled jawline that could cut glass, his smile was straight and glistening, which he flashed at her. Man, these guys are really sexy.
"Sorry, I'm late. Thank you for your patience, Miss…"
"Uh, Mackenzie." She swallowed. "Just Mackenzie."
All four of these men were as attractive as they come, but the two on her left were immeasurably superseding their friends. Especially the one who just approached.
"Charmed to make your acquaintance, Mackenzie."
She bowed her head. "The pleasure is mine. It's nice to meet you…"
"My name is Liam," the blonde introduced himself. "These are my friends. Drake—" the rugged one "—Maxwell—" the adorable, wild one "—and Tariq—" the prissy, pretty one.
"Well, welcome, gents. Now, let me go put in your order. Be right back with your bottle of whiskey."
"I would like sex on the beach as well." Tariq winked.
"Tariq!" Liam and Drake said at once.
Mackenzie put her hand up. "Mister Tariq, if you're going to behave like that, you're going to have to up your game. I've had men in here grab my butt and pinch my breast. Some even went so far as to kiss me. You are barely a bug on the windshield. I'm not familiar with sex on the beach, but I can definitely make you 'bend over, Shirley.'"
She raised her eyebrow then retreated with a smirk.
Maxwell nudged the man's arm, laughing. "She got you good."
Tariq pushed him off and glared.
"Don't take it personally." Drake chuckled. "You have to admit you deserved it."
"Yeah, yeah." Tariq rolled his eyes.
Mackenzie's evacuation from the galley caught Liam's attention. He watched the young woman shuffle to the bar, setting a drink in front of the man moments later. From the way he gently swayed, Liam deduced he had been here for a while. He heard mumbles, the woman's laughter filling the mostly empty business, though in no way obnoxious. Her grin made her entire face express happiness, but there was little else to know about her appearance. Mackenzie's uniform made her look dull. Black slacks, though form-fitting, revealed little, the white button-up austere and unflattering, her hair braided topside, coming to a messy bun, a ribbon wrapped around the tie. She was donning dangly earrings that weren't abhorrent but instead flowed with her fluid movements. Mackenzie sauntered over to their table, setting a whiskey bottle and four tumblers in front of them.
"Bottle of whiskey, four glasses—" she set them down in front of each of them along with some water "— and your Bend Over, Shirley. Anything else?"
"Not for the moment," Drake said.
"All right, Beautiful…" the older gentleman called to her.
"Excuse me, gents." She turned on her heels, going back behind the bar.
Drake poured their whiskey as all of them observed Mackenzie make a phone call. She grinned and hung up.
"Time for key roulette, big guy. You win, you get two free drinks on Monday. You lose, Tommy is taking you home, and you owe me my favorite drink."
"I'll win this time," he slurred.
Mackenzie placed Nelson's keys under a glass beside two others, quickly shuffling them. She stopped, pointing to her left, Nelson following her line of sight. While he was distracted, Mackenzie removed his keys, hurriedly stashing them in her pocket. The man turned back around, his head bobbing as he tried his hardest to focus, picking the middle one. The mug came up, revealing emptiness.
"No-go, Mr. Nelson."
"One of these days, I'm going to win," he guaranteed.
"What did I say in response?" Mackenzie asked.
The man managed to laugh. "To bring in adoption papers first."
She snickered. "You bet."
"Why do you think I'm here every week?"
She leaned on the bar. "At my place of work. Not so charming. I'm a woman. Don't you know that means it needs to be overdone and cliche. I like to be swept off my feet."
"How high do you wanna go?" he inquired.
"All the way."
They guys managed light laughs at the adorability of her being playful with a customer. The man obviously knew her well and completely admired the woman. The phone rang.
"Hello?… Look at that! Tommy is here… we'll be out in a moment." She hung up and strolled back over to the other side and helped him off the stool. "Careful, honey. There we go."
Mr. Nelson stumbled a bit, but she got him up and made it a few steps before he stopped and pointed to the young men.
"You boys take care of my girl, now. She's good at her job."
She chuckled. "My white knight." They huffed laughs. "Come on, Mr. Nelson."
"You need help, Mackenzie?" One of the men in the front corner of the pub asked.
"Nope, I got him, Marcus."
Mackenzie escorted Mr. Nelson out to a cab, all the boys observing the table of three others in the building. They noticed a glimmer of metal from one of their hips, then under their jackets; plainclothes detectives. They laughed, seemingly having a good time conversing about what could not be heard. Mackenzie stepped back into the restaurant. Just as she entered, the bell near the kitchen sounded. She wasn't more than ten steps past the door, the manager impatiently exiting his office.
"Mackenzie! Their food is ready. I see you slacking off again, you'll work your second shift with no compensation!"
He went back in, and she made her way to the kitchen.
"What an ass," Maxwell grunted.
"So unprofessional," Tariq agreed.
She emerged from the back with four plates balancing on her arms and hands. She brought them over to the table, setting them down.
"All right, do you need anything else? Ketchup? Hot sauce?"
"Ketchup would be great." Liam smiled.
"You got it."
"May I order a mixed drink?" Maxwell wondered.
"What would you like?" Kenzie placed her arm on the top of the booth just behind Liam.
"Anything with a vodka base."
"Hmm." She observed him. "I'm going to guess that out of this group of four, you are the wild one. Busy, never content to sit or stay in one place. Adventurous. Goofy, but in a stress-relieving way, not obnoxious. Younger brother of an older sibling; most likely brother. Judging by the carefree attitude, I'm going to guess, wealthy. Your brother carries on the family name and estate letting you get away with just enough to be the life of the party."
All of their eyes widened, bouncing from Kenzie to him. Maxwell blew air out of his cheeks.
"That is the most accurate I have been described. Are you magic?" He gasped.
She giggled. "With this job, I have to be good at reading people. With that said, I think I know just what to make you."
"Bring it on!" he cheered.
Mackenzie hiccuped a laugh, maneuvering toward the bar. After making the drink, she set a coffee pot on the counter to her left, padding out from the right. A yellowish-orange mixed beverage was delicately placed before Maxwell.
"Porn Star Martini—" she set down a shot glass "— with a shot of Prosecco."
"Never had one of these." He looked at the cup wide-eyed.
"Enjoy then." She grinned. "Some people like to down the shot before, I like to take small sips after each gulp of my martini."
Ketchup made its way to surface in front of them, the plastic cap making that all too familiar clack on the wooden table. Mackenzie gracefully shuffled to the bar, picking up the pot, pouring the detectives more coffee on arrival. The guys ingested their food while two of the four officers drank their coffee, continuing whatever conversation they were immersed in. Mackenzie cleaned behind the bar, wiping down seats, navigating through her nightly closing checklist. Mitch stepped out, closing and locking the office door, a bundled bank bag under his arm.
"I'm leaving for the night. Make sure you lock everything up, Mackenzie."
"Yes, Sir."
Shortly after, the detectives were gone too. Mackenzie wiped down their table after cleaning it off. The dishes were taken to the back.
"Whatever we do next, it needs to be awesome!" Maxwell proclaimed.
"You gentlemen are making a fuss out of this." Liam sighed.
"You are going to be married by the end of the year, Liam!" Tariq shifted in his seat. "This is the perfect time to make a fuss. You are our dear friend!"
"I do think it's a bit overboard." Drake exhaled.
"Of course you do. You party like an 80-year-old man… you and your whiskey," Maxwell teased. "Loosen up!"
Drake rolled his eyes.
"Night, Kenzie."
A male in a chef's coat emerged from the kitchen, fingers unbuttoning a few clasps at the top as he removed his keys from his pocket. Soon, the cook disappeared behind the jingling of the bell above the barrier to the outside world. After departing the galley doors, Mackenzie sashayed to their table.
"You guys finished?" They nodded. "I know it's no filet mignon, but…?"
"I'm satisfied." Drake picked his teeth with a toothpick.
"It was delicious," Maxwell added.
"It was worth it," Tariq replied.
"Perfect." Liam smiled at her.
"You handsome gentlemen need anything else?"
"Another one of these!" Maxwell motioned to the mostly empty cup.
She giggled at the young man's excitement. "A whole bottle of whiskey and your drinks? You sure?"
"That was a darn good drink!" Maxwell argued. "Besides, I'm the wild one, remember?" He winked at her.
She laughed. "Well, I can't say no now, can I?"
Kenzie retreated after clearing dishes from the table. The bachelors conversed about the rest of the night's errands when Mackenzie peeled away from the galley's darkness. Subtly, out of their peripherals, the gentlemen studied the woman. They realized she mixed beverages for all four of them when she glided to the table with a tray full. Kenzie placed Maxwell's in front of him, then considered Tariq, before depositing a drink.
"Sex on the beach?" His eyes got wide.
"A cosmos snob. Only child in a wealthy family. You were spoiled with all the finer things in life. Judging by the suit, you are hetrosexual and like pampering yourself. You like the idea of romance, just not romance as a whole. Careful. That kind of behavior is going to get you in trouble, if it hasn't already." She faced Drake. "An old fashion for you. A wonderful classic and says you appreciate a good cocktail—as long as the bar is not six deep. One has to be careful because it can evoke images of some old farts after a bingo game, however it has caught on with some modern day bon vivants." She chuckled. "You have been brooding in my booth all night. The one yelling for kids to stay off your lawn and grumbling. Oddly, you're not the rich kid of the group. Judging by the attitude, I want to say, dangerously close to the charity case; with respect."
Everyone laughed, even Drake hid his smile behind the tumbler.
"Thank you."
"For you," she set down another mixed drink. "Sazerac."
"Thank you," Liam said with gratefulness. It was quiet for a moment, Mackenzie cleaning up random trash. He asked, "No read for me?"
Her right palm rested on the table, body twisting toward him. "You've never had a Sazerac. I know that because you are a man who knows a good drink. Those who drink a Sazerac tend to know their drink history and are willing to take risks when they shouldn't. You are difficult to pin down, and your poker face is impeccable. I would say, for a man careful about his drinks, he loves things in life that aren't materials. You love things that can't be seen, but felt whether through love, or lessons learned in history."
The fleck in his eyes wasn't one Kenzie could quite place. It glittered as if he were flattered. "Inhuman."
"On the contrary, what a person drinks is almost as revealing as their job, what car they chose to drive and well, a few other things. You haven't ordered a drink yet tonight, simply taken what's been ordered without question. The only thing I haven't pinned down is if that is by choice, or habit. I do, after all have you pegged as the wealthiest of the group."
He merely chuckled. Before he could speak, his friend did.
"You can certainly make a drink." Tariq raised his glass.
Kenzie conversed for another hour; all four definitely corresponded to the observations made. Drake a broody grump, Maxwell the comedian, Tariq a highbrow, though he had a soft spot or two. Liam was the quiet sweetheart, but still hard where it counted. The entourage divulged various adventures in the Big Apple, some of which made Kenzie laugh. Afterward, she completed the nightly checklist after handing them their bill. Maxwell, Drake, and Tariq waited beside the locked door. A tap on Kenzie's shoulder caused her to turn, Liam's presence greeting her with a tooth-bearing grin.
"Here." He handed her the check and the payment. "The change is yours."
"Thank you."
"I think we're about ready to head out. I just wanted to thank you… and apologize. I know we kept you late, and my friends can be demanding."
"Demanding?" She smiled. "It was nothing I couldn't handle, Liam."
"I got the feeling you could take care of yourself." He went to walk away, then turned back to her. "If you don't have any other plans tonight, maybe I can make it up to you by buying you a drink. We're about to go to a club."
"Oh?" She raised her right eyebrow. "Which one?"
"We were actually hoping you might have some advice about that. As you know, we're not from around here."
She giggled, responding, "As if the Mediterranean accents weren't indication enough." She sat up. "One of the city's hottest clubs, Kismet, is just up the street. I was actually supposed to meet my close friend there tonight, but she just bailed." She brought her phone up. "My two-year-old godson is running a fever."
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said. There was a moment of silence, then he spoke, "Well, if you still want to go out…"
"I would need to change and close everything down. I'm sure you have a schedule to stick to."
"We can wait," he stated.
"Are you sure?" she inquired.
He nodded. "Yes."
"Okay."
"Great. The guys wanted to go crazy tonight, so…" they both chuckled. "We'll wait outside."
Mackenzie closed the restaurant down, padding to the back break room. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, face distorting into slight disgust. I am so ready to get out of this uniform. Kenzie hurriedly spruced up, changed her undergarments, then slid a green cocktail dress over her frame. Agile fingers quickly added green and gold eyeshadow and deep red lipstick, then freshened her eyeliner and mascara. Mackenzie sprayed dry shampoo throughout her hair, placing scraggly strands in a low side bun, curls falling to her face. Spritzes of perfume moistened her forearms. Slender fingers slipped on her golden heels, the locker shutting with a familiar metallic rattling. Kenzie shrugged on her tan leather jacket, snatching her clutch.
Mackenzie stepped outside to see them waiting for her.
"Wow." Drake's eyes got wide.
She felt herself get a little anxious. "Wow?"
"I… almost didn't recognize you," Drake replied.
Mackenzie's curves were now apparent, and by the look of her legs, she was athletic and in shape; she took care of herself. Not to mention that she smelt as good as she looked.
Tariq purred, "That uniform wasn't doing you justice."
"Yeah." Maxwell grinned. "The waitress is hot."
Liam scolded his friend, "Her name is Mackenzie, and I doubt she appreciates you talking about her like that."
"Right. Sorry, Mackenzie," Maxwell apologized.
She could see the genuineness in his expression. Her hand went to his shoulder. "It's all right. Sometimes a lady likes to know she looks good, especially after a double shift."
"Well, I meant to say that you look lovely." He stood straight. "Now let's get this party going!"
"So" Drake stepped forward, "she's our tour guide now?"
"Mackenzie was kind enough to agree to show us around. She's doing us a favor, play nice."
The guys slid into the limo, Liam motioning for her to go next. She climbed in, Liam following.
"To the club!" Maxwell sang.
"Kismet, Jeffery."
The limo driver obeyed Liam's command, pulling away from the pub. A short time later, Drake, Liam, Mackenzie, Maxwell, and Tariq entered Kismet. There was a dance floor to the left with a massive bar, numerous tables and booths located to the right. Both variations of seating exposed and private in multiple rooms in addition to the main area. There was a terrace outside where more surfaces and a minibar were positioned.
"Welcome, guys." Mackenzie smiled.
"Let's find a booth," Liam suggested.
Mackenzie saw one free up and went toward it. The guys took a seat. She went to leave, Liam stopping her by gently seizing her arm.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Drinks. I think the least I could do is get the first round."
"I owe you a drink," he reminded her.
She flashed her dimples. "The night is young."
Mackenzie removed her jacket, wrapping her clutch under her arm, sauntering toward the bar. Moments later, she returned, a waitress in tow. The woman passed out drinks to whom Mackenzie instructed, then sashayed away from the small party, Mackenzie sitting between Drake and Liam. The group laughed amidst their conversation when a rough-looking man, and his three friends, casually padded over and seized their attention.
"Hey, baby. Why don't you ditch these pretty boys and come to our table."
She studied their table of slutty ladies, then glanced back to the four men in front of her. She inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. "I'm sorry, but I'm a cat." She crossed her legs and put one arm on Liam's shoulder and the other on Drake's knee. Her left index finger traced the line of Liam's chiseled jaw, and her right hand caressing up Drake's leg an inch. "I like my mice a little more feisty. You? I'm already bored. Scurry back to your space with your ladies, and we'll forget you ever came over here to interrupt and insult my partners and me."
"Partners? Plural?" the man scoffed.
"Worth much more than you. The sex is… spiritual and extremity tingling. Especially when I have all four at once. I require men with a lot of stamina, not boys that would last me four minutes." She motioned. "One each."
The man stepped closer causing Drake, Liam, Maxwell, and Tariq to tense, but Mackenzie remained nonchalant and slightly complacent.
"All four of them at once makes you no different than the whores at my table. Why do you think I'm over here?"
"Watch—"
Mackenzie stopped Liam. "Calm yourself, sweetheart." She faced the men. "This is the last time I will ask you politely, please walk away."
"I'm asking you to be a good bitch and know your place in a man's world."
Mackenzie held both Liam and Drake back, laughing as she did so. "Honey, men run this world because women allow them to occasionally get their dick wet. It's our choice, not yours. I'm telling you no and to scurry away. Yet you're here… still. I believe we're now in harassment territory."
"Mackenzie, are these men bothering you?" A security guard and his two buds came over.
"No, Timothy. Impeding the view, maybe. Certainly not being bothersome."
"You know what—?"
Mackenzie stood, taking a position beside the thug, though, remained opposite him. In any given situation, an average person would make and maintain eye contact with whoever was spoken to. Not Kenzie. She knew not gratifying them with such a response would be more insulting.
"What?" she spoke calmly and quietly. "What is it that I know?"
The hooligan tried to hit Mackenzie; she blocked, punching him in return. Kenzie grabbed him so that he turned, the woman forcefully pressing his face on a nearby table, arm held at an angle, causing him to groan. One of his buddies attempted to approach, but she noticed, kicking his groin quicker than he could react. Security seized the other two in the process before they could become serious threats.
"Let's go." Timothy grabbed the man from Mackenzie, pushing him and his delinquent friends toward the door.
Kenzie turned to Drake, Liam, Maxwell, and Tariq. "You guys all right?"
"Us?" Tariq shrilled. "You just took on two guys after mouthing off to them, and you are asking about us?"
She shrugged. "New York intimidates tourists, but I've been here most of my life. I also work in a bar. I took self-defense, kickboxing, jujitsu, karate, taekwondo, and judo. Mitch, my bossy manager, likes to leave, sometimes, hours before we actually close. I'm alone. I don't take risks with my life or my customer's. It was just easier to know how to handle myself."
"So, you're an action hero?" Maxwell smiled.
Mackenzie laughed taking her seat. "Hardly. Though, I apologize if you gentlemen wanted to defend the lady's honor. It's a bit of a habit to take care of myself."
Drake, Liam, Mackenzie, Maxwell and Tariq conversed for a time about fighting and the various styles until the guys went toward the dance floor. 'Taki Taki' was blaring over the speakers, vibrating their bodies with the bass.
"Time to party!" Maxwell pumped his hands.
"No one wants to see your running man, Maxwell." Drake's face distorted.
"You there!" Tariq called a nearby waitress. "Who do I talk to about bottle service?"
Mackenzie and Liam chuckled. He turned to her. "Thank you for bringing us here. Looks like the guys are having fun already. Not to mention your little action scene turned their heads."
She sat back in her seat. "I bet you're used to putting everyone else first."
"Why would you say that?"
"I can tell." She bounced her shoulders. "I have a gift for reading people, remember. Now, forget about your friends. What about you? Do you like it here?"
"What I'm enjoying most is the company." He smirked at her. "I believe I owe you a drink. So, what'll the lady have?"
"Shots, whiskey."
"As you wish."
He left, coming back five minutes later with their beverages. After handing it to Mackenzie, Liam raised his own.
"Two shots of whiskey." He grinned. "You do not mess around, do you?"
"Not even a little bit." They both down their drinks. "Thank you. Now, we're even, Liam."
He processed for a moment. "You're right. Now I will have to find some other excuse to get you to stay."
She chuckled. "Better think of something fast. Let's see how quick you are on your feet."
"Well" he scooted closer, "the guys are really warming up to you. If you stick around, you can keep them in line."
"Oh yeah?" She hid her amusement. "I'm pretty sure I just saw a girl dump her drink on Maxwell."
He put his hand up. "See? You're needed now more than ever."
"Yeah, but maybe I don't feel like babysitting."
"How about I buy you another drink?" He smiled. "Does that work for you?"
"Now you're not even trying to persuade me."
"Okay." He chuckled. "You got me. Honestly? Hanging out with you is the most fun I've had on this entire vacation."
"That's sweet." She tucked some hair behind her right ear. "I guess that means that you haven't really been enjoying yourself very much."
"It's been wonderful, but something is missing. I really wanted to do one thing in particular while I was here."
"What's that?"
"It's, well, you're probably going to think it's silly, but I've always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. It wasn't really in the guys' plan, so we just never got around to it. Now it's my last day here. I don't mean to sound so ungrateful. It was thoughtful of my friends to throw me this bachelor party. They've done their best, but I'm not in the mood to celebrate."
Mackenzie's heart stopped. "Wait for a second, it's your bachelor party? Congratulations!"
His expression went somber. "If you knew the whole story, you might not congratulate me so quickly."
"Oh?"
"I actually don't know who I'm going to marry yet, only that I have to pick my fiancée by the end of the year."
Mackenzie wrinkled her nose. "What's that supposed to mean? The only people who have arranged marriages thrust on them are certain religious backgrounds and royalty. If I can be so bold, your accent leads me to think the latter, but I know a few countries that still have kings and queens at the head of their monarch. My question is, am I right?"
He hesitated, then exhaled once more. "I'm the crown Prince of Cordonia."
Mackenzie set her drink down, so she didn't spill it. "Which leads to the second question: I'm not getting punk'd, am I?"
"I've actually seen that show." He shook his head. "No, Mackenzie. I'm sincere."
"Why did you wait till now to say something?"
"Perhaps I should have been more upfront with you," Liam admitted.
She put a hand up. "No. It was selfish of me to say that. It's even more unfair for me to think you should go around and tell everyone that you're a prince. I apologize."
"Yes," he agreed. "I'm not normally allowed to go around without the Royal Guard, and I was only allowed out on the condition that I kept my identity a secret. Just for one day, I wanted to be free. But, I am very aware that I have a duty to the monarchy. I've never known anything else. But, what about you? You could be anything. What drives you, Mackenzie?"
She smiled. "I wish I had more time to tell you about me, but it seems I don't. I can at least answer your question." She sat forward, her legs remaining crossed. "I was in a bad relationship a few years ago. I'd like to say I've recovered, but there are days I digress. I really want to fall in love. I'm not talking about the fairytale, birds help me clean a cabin type. The raw bits of it. The bits that leave you sitting quietly in the aftermath of a disagreement never doubting that person will leave you despite your differences. That kind of love gives life a different meaning. The connections that we make, the hearts we touch. My parents were the most cliché example of true love."
"Were?"
She swallowed hard, her eyes meeting his. "My father died about eight years ago. It's been… difficult." She shook her head. "There was a lot to unpack there. I'm sorry, Liam."
"It's beautiful, Mackenzie."
She observed the guys on the dance floor, mingling with other club-goers.
"Come on, Drake. Show off those moves!" Maxwell encouraged his friend.
"Another bottle of champagne!" Tariq cheered. "Who knew we'd find a decent vintage here?"
She chuckled. "Looks like your friends are having fun."
Liam grinned. "Good. I'm happy for them. They deserve to have fun. Tomorrow, it's back to Cordonia for the start of the social season."
"But, it's not tomorrow yet," Mackenzie stated.
"What are you suggesting?" Liam wondered.
She scooted closer to him. "You said you wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. Let's do it! I know a place where we can catch a boat tour. Best view in town."
"Right now?" he asked with surprise. "But, it's way past midnight. Won't all the tours be closed?"
"Oh… right. I forgot how late it's gotten. In that case" she pulled out her cellphone, "you're lucky I can call in a favor."
"A favor? Just like that, you can get us on a tour boat after midnight to see the Statue of Liberty?"
"Well, maybe a few favors, actually, but I have some friends who owe me. It won't be easy, but I know this is important to you, so, let's go!"
"Right now?"
"It's only getting later every minute we wait. Besides, it looks like the guys are busy enough. I bet they won't even notice you're gone."
"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"
She chuckled. "Nope!"
"Then, I happily surrender to your demands."
Mackenzie gestured to Liam to follow. While heading to their destination, she made urgent calls to some friends eager to assist, but it would take some time to set everything into motion. A while later, Kenzie and Liam were at the docks, overlooking Manhattan's skyline as they patiently waited.
"Impatient?" She grinned.
"For?"
"The magical boat I've summoned just for you." She giggled.
His cerulean eyes peered back toward the city. "Not a bad view."
"Now, I'm dying to know why you're so eager to see the Statue of Liberty." Mackenzie leaned against the railing.
He snickered. "Can you guess?"
She took a moment to study him, then the realization hit. "You want to see the Statue of Liberty because she symbolizes freedom."
"Freedom is something that I have always wanted," he confirmed. "But, I've always known that my role would require me to give up much of what I desire."
"You're the Prince. Can't you do what you want, at least some of the time?"
"As a member of the royal family, my actions reflect on my house and all of Cordonia. It's something I've never been allowed to forget. No matter how badly I might want to."
Liam gazed at Mackenzie for a long moment, then looked away.
"Liam—"
Just then, a horn blast interrupted her. Looking out across the water, they spot a tour boat pulling up.
"There's our ride!"
Once the boat docked, the two climbed aboard.
"Mackenzie."
"Xander!" She hugged him. "Thank you so much for doing this for me!"
"Of course!"
Xander went back to the wheel and set off. Mackenzie and Liam settle in as they are on their own private boat to go see Lady Liberty.
"Part of me didn't think you'd pull this off," he confessed.
"You didn't, huh? Well, that is because you just don't know me very well."
"You're right. But, I'd like to fix that. You're fascinating, Mackenzie. Why are you doing this for me?" he inquired.
"I'm doing this because I love a good adventure and because it's going to be an amazing story to tell all my friends about. The night I got a Cordonian Prince onto a tour boat to show him the Statue of Liberty."
He considered his life for a moment, then snatched a glimpse of Mackenzie. "To be honest, no one's ever done anything like this for me before."
Her eyes widened. "Really? Come on, you're a prince. I bet people do things for you all the time and you're just flattering me."
"I do get all the perks that come with being royalty, but no one's ever seen me as just… me. No one's ever listened to me the way you do. No one's ever come up with a spur-of-the-moment plan to make my dreams come true."
"You mean that crack team at the bachelor party couldn't pull this off?" Mackenzie joked.
Liam chuckled. "They try, but they've got nothing on you."
The boat suddenly slowed its progress, mist in the harbor parting. In the distance, Mackenzie and Liam notice the Statue of Liberty emerging through the thick brume. She observed her guest's expression, watching baby-blue orbs take in the view. A contortion so easily recognizable; sheer bliss. Liam seemed blown away by the flood of emotions—the biggest: satisfied serenity. Mackenzie grinned, turning to face Lady Liberty. The breeze caused her eyes to close, absorbing nature's unspoken harmony surrounding them.
"So?" She interrupted the quiet. "What do you think?"
"Magnificent." He exhaled. "I've heard that art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it's ink splatters on a canvas or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you."
"Does it?" Mackenzie beamed, trying to coax more out.
"Right now, looking at this view with you, I feel like everything is possible." Liam took a deep breath. "Thank you for this moment, Mackenzie. This feeling? This means more to me than you could ever know."
"Liam—"
He stopped her. "I want you to know that I admire you. Your adventurous spirit. The way you follow your heart."
"You can live that way too."
"If only," he replied, a slight bitterness evident in his tone. "My whole life I've prepared myself to do what's best for Cordonia."
"Well, we're not in Cordonia now," Mackenzie stated-matter-of-factly.
Liam brought Mackenzie nearer, hazel orbs gazing up into baby blues. They just met, and Liam was a prince leaving for Cordonia tomorrow; going further wasn't sensible. However, in the grand scheme, would it make a difference? What the hell! Mackenzie grasped each side of Liam's chiseled silhouette, leaning into her, a flicker of peace in his eyes. Abruptly, she pressed her lips against his. Gone was Liam's stern poker face. His expression glimmered shock, then a straight smile casually graced his features.
"I probably broke quite a few rules doing that, but I think you should have the full experience, or it just isn't worth it."
His response was to simply lean his forehead against hers. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
She shrugged. "I try."
"I'm glad to have met you, Mackenzie. I'll never forget this night."
Xander took them both back to shore. Mackenzie escorted Liam to his limo. Once he was off, she got into her taxi and went home.
Mackenzie staggered through the threshold of her apartment, kicking off heels. Aching feet stumbled to the couch where she collapsed, resting on a throw pillow. Replaying the night forced a sharp inhale, almost as if that would scold the thoughts from presenting themselves. Liam was charming and gorgeous, his touch warm, his grasp firm, intriguing conversation. She craved more, desiring to know him intimately. Kenzie shook her head, sitting up. After flipping on the television, she padded to the freezer, seizing a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream. I desperately need you.
Mackenzie watched the movie that came on, shamelessly devouring the whole pint of Ben and Jerry's. After, she tossed her trash, catching a glimpse of the clock. iWow, it's practically morning./i The timepiece read a little after four, so Kenzie tiptoed to her master bath. She brushed her teeth, removed makeup, progressed through the nightly skincare routine, then side-braided frizzy, curly strands. The memory foam mattress with Egyptian cotton sheets and fuzzy fleece welcomed Kenzie's exhausted body with warmth as the fabric molded to her silhouette.
