Page 2 of Once Upon a Prince

“You’re amazing and they're going to love you as much as we do,” Layla said.

“If not, let me know and I’ll beat them up,” Ara said and they all laughed.

“We’ll be there for you if you need us, but I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” Layla reassured Ella.

“To the fearsome threesome!” Ella said and lifted her glass up.

Ara and Layla lifted their glasses and they touched the rims and then downed the rest of the soda. Ella smiled and felt lucky to have them in her life. She didn’t know what was going to happen but she was glad that she had her friends by her side. Ella hoped that the three weeks had solidified a friendship with these three women that would last the rest of their lives.

Chapter 1

Ella

It was the sound that hit me first. The sounds of cars honking, people yelling, jackhammers running, and the strange background sound behind it all that seemed to just hum. It was overpowering and like nothing else I had ever experienced. I had known New York City was going to be different from my small town in Nebraska. Layla and Ara had warned me about it, but hearing it, thinking I understood it, and accepting it were all very different things.

The sun felt brighter than it did back home. The clouds seemed sharper, fuller, if that was possible. The smells of the garbage, the gleam off the sidewalk, the noise from the street vendor at the corner seemed more intense. Everything felt too big, too bright, too loud, too everything. I looked over at the cab driver as he pulled my luggage out of the back and seriously contemplated having him put it back in and take me back to the airport. What was I thinking coming here? What was I trying to prove? This was ridiculous. I didn’t belong here and thinking that I did was just as ridiculous as thinking I could make it here.

The sound of a scream had me turning. I barely had enough time to see Ara, one of my best friends, before she launched herself at me and threw herself into my arms. I wrapped them around her and smiled as she hugged me. Seeing her, feeling her warmth grounded me as it had since I was younger. I sighed as I held her tight.

“You’re here! You’re really here!” she exclaimed as she stepped away from me. Her long red hair flowed behind her and moved softly in the breeze. Her green eyes were full of happiness and mischief as she looked at me. With her being over five inches taller than me, I almost had to look up to really get a good look at her. She looked sophisticated, chic, and confident as she always did. She was a woman who belonged in New York, unlike me.

It was because of her and Layla’s unwavering friendship that I had found the courage to come to the city at all. I had wanted a change, I had needed to get away from my hometown, from the scrutiny of my stepmother, and they had helped me do it. It was as much that I didn’t want to disappoint them that had me squaring my shoulders as I looked at Ara.

“Yes. The cabs were where you said they would be and all went fine,” I said, trying to sound more sure of myself than I actually felt.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come and get you myself—”

“Nonsense. You have a major test tomorrow. I wish you had told me sooner; I would have come later.”

“You can’t do that. You start your job tomorrow and I want to make sure you get all settled.”

“I could have stayed with Layla,” I reminded her.

“Layla lives in a studio. The place isn’t even big enough for her, much less both of you,” Ara said to me and then thanked the cab driver and handed him some cash before taking my luggage. “My place is much bigger and closer to your job. You can walk to work if you want.” Ara hooked her hand through my arm and pulled me toward the lobby of her apartment complex, pulling my luggage effortlessly behind her.

I tried not to gawk as we walked to her complex, but it was hard. The building had to be one of the biggest I had ever seen. It stood over thirty stories tall with a circular driveway and had a large fountain in the middle. Space was limited and expensive in New York and it shocked me to think that my friend, and now I, lived in a place that had a fountain in the front.

The lobby had floor-to-ceiling doors that opened into themselves. There were two doormen who greeted not only Ara, but also me, by name. It took me a second to realize they were talking to me when they said, “Ms. Taylor.”

The lobby area was just as impressive. It had a sitting area with a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table between them all. Off to the right was a large desk where two other doormen were sitting with large monitors on the desk in front of them. They gave me and Ara soft smiles and nodded as we walked past them. I had known Ara for over fifteen years, I knew she had money, or at least came from it. I had never known exactly how much until I walked through the lobby. I could feel the doormen looking at me and made me feel even more self-conscious.

Ara didn’t seem to notice but then she had been around this type of opulence all her life. It was nothing to her to have four different men making sure she got into her apartment okay. I had known there would be some security when I lived with her, I just hadn’t counted on it being this much. It made me wonder exactly what I was getting into and if I would ever feel comfortable having so many people knowing when I was coming and going.

“Are there always that many people in the lobby?” I asked as we got onto the elevator and headed up to her apartment.

“There weren’t that many people there,” Ara said.

“All the doormen that were there? That isn’t a lot?”

“Oh, those guys. Yeah, there’s usually one or two at the door and then one or two behind the desk. It might be less later in the night but not always. Did it bother you to have them there?” Ara asked.

She looked at me with concern and kindness. I could see a little bit of worry in her eyes. She might have come from money but she knew not everyone else did. She was one of the kindest people I had ever known and would never want anyone to feel uncomfortable if she could help it.

“It’ll take some getting used to. I thought I was getting away from people knowing and questioning where I was at all hours of the day.”

“They’re there more to keep anyone out, not to question where you are or what you’re doing. Believe me, I’ve come home at some ungodly hour of the night and they didn’t bat an eye. After a while you’ll hardly notice they’re there. Most of them are nice guys and are fun to talk to. Carlos is a huge Mets fan; you should talk to him about baseball if you get a chance.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, trying to sound better about them than I felt.

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