Page 2 of Princess for the Space Cowboy

Whatever. I tap that notification and pull up the app.

“Huh?”

I speak loud enough that my cubicle mate, the one on the other side of that thin cardboard-and-fabric wall, calls over, “What?”

That’s Stan. He’s annoying and nosy.

“Oh, nothing,” I say quickly.

I’m shocked to see I have a message.

We think you might be a great fit for us. Please come to our offices at 7 Space Rodeo Avenue, seventh floor.

I’m legit confused, but I bite my tongue just in time before I say anything else and prompt more nosiness from Stan.

I tap the main web browser on my phone to see just what I did on my phone last night. A job ad pops right up. I read it.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. Oh fuck! What have I gone and done? I stand quickly, striding out of the doorway, if you can fucking call it that, of my cubicle and down the hallway. Blessedly, our cheap office has a bathroom where I can lock the door.

I check the time on my phone. It’s five minutes from my lunch break. I abruptly decide I’m going to scout this place out.

I can’t help but giggle as I reread the job description. Sober, with my headache barely at bay, I can’t help but think even now this has got to be a joke. But what if it’s not?

I’ve always wanted to leave Earth. Some people love our planet and wax poetic about how special it is. I’m sure it’s pretty cool in the big scheme of things, but it’s hot as hell, dry, and we’ve kind of screwed ourselves with the taking care of things. The past couple of weeks for me have been a shit show of epic proportions. I feel like life has wronged me.

I’m barely making ends meet. Ever since we made it to space, oh, like a few decades ago, I imagine it’s like it used to be when cars first came around. Or maybe plane travel is a better example. Being able to go to space is a luxury very few can afford. You need to have job skills where they want to send youup there, or you need to have money. But if I could land this job, if it’s not totally a scam, I could dust my hands off and leave these last few weeks behind. Space can’t be any worse than my current life.

I slip out when the bell chimes for my lunch break. Space Rodeo Avenue is only minutes away.

Chapter Two

ASHER

“Why in the world did you put ‘princess’ wanted in the ad?” I look over at Helena, the stately secretary for our cowboy league.

She wiggles her brows and flips her long hair off one shoulder. “Royalty is very popular on Earth. Just take a look at the news down there. They’re always talking about princess this and prince that and kings and queens. It’s a big deal. And…” Pausing, she lifted both of her hands in the air, letting them fall in exasperation. “You need a princess.”

I’ve visited Earth many times. Maybe royaltyisin the news there, but the only royalty they have left there is in name only. No matter, Helena is right. I need a princess. “Fair enough. When does my ship leave?”

She lifts a hand in the air, tapping at what appears to be an invisible spot in front of her. It instantly reveals the scheduling screen. Our planet, Aphroditea, is a hub for intergalactic transport. Spaceships zip through here on the regular, arraying out through the galaxy. It makes for convenient travel. We are one of the first stops to and from Earth. Although Earth is struggling as a planet, it’s still a popular place for travel. Many travelers are curious to see the planet trying to rebound from being almost destroyed by its own people.

“You can leave in an hour,” Helena says with a satisfied smile. She clasps her hands together in front of her chest. “You are going to fall in love, Asher. I just know it.”

“Here’s to hoping,” I reply with a light shrug.

I’m trying not to let the pressure get to me, but I kind of need to get married. Our people believe in this thing called infinity pulse. In short, true love with an intense physical connection.

Beyond my own need to find a mate, our planetneedswomen. It all started two years ago. We revere women on our planet so much that we hold an annual festival to honor them. Two years ago, a massive space storm blew through the area during the festival, and many women perished. Our kind has cross-mated with humans for centuries.

We’ve hatched a plan and put out a call on Earth. I’m technically a prince, for reals. If I do find a princess to mate with, part of the plan is that she will help find more women to mate with others on my planet. No pressure. At all.

We hope it will strengthen our numbers. Rumor has it, life on Earth isn’t too great for women. Unlike our planet, where we revere women, they are frequently abused on Earth. During the decline in Earth’s climate, women lost many rights, which set off a chain of events, thrusting women back to being treated like shadows. On Aphroditea, we put them on pedestals. For example, even though I’m a prince, I can’t even call upon all my powers until I have a princess to share them with.

That’s what makes this plan so critical for our people.

Chapter Three

JANE

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