The Royal Fake Love

Her name was Royal Robert, and she was a twenty eight years old woman that lived downtown in Brooklyn, but she didn’t have her life together as most twenty eight years old does. Her life was honestly far from being figured out as it should be.

She was single with no prominent promise of getting a man any time soon, but that was the least of her worries these days. What she was worried about were how to pay these bills or those bills and not some silly macho men that wanted a way in her pant.

Oh, she knew what people were probably thinking. The cliché of her name, being Royal when she was not from a royal family? Well, let’s just say that her mother loved those once upon a time, stories with anything that had to do with princes and princesses.

When she was pregnant with her, she didn’t want to get an ultrasound so it was a surprise but she had already taken the name Royal to fit whatever sex she came out as. It was funny how her life had nothing to do with royalty.

In fact, it had been the opposite of that the whole day. She had just lost her job of two years just because her boss wanted to get in her pants and she didn’t allow that to happen. Well, majorly, her life was something one could call a novelty for those rich asses that think that they could do anything and get away with it.

She had been trying to work so hard on holding a job, without anyone wanting to get down with her, and she had been holding onto this job for the past two years, majorly just avoiding her boss until today.

The excuse was because she came late to work. God, how retarded was that? For God's sake, people that busted their asses every day just to work and come up with things at work don’t deserve to be fired just like that just because they came last to work, what, twice a month

God, she had never even had any leave time ever since she started working for this company. She worked herself through the weekdays and sometimes even at weekends and her stupid boss had the nerve to fire her?

Stupid prick. He didn’t know her worth and paid her less than he should but she had had to manage it just to get by.

She should sue that company for what they are worth, but for what, anyway. It was of no use at all.

She packed her things into the box and swallowed back the lump that had formed at her throat. The tears were threatening to fall but she was not even going to let that happen. She had shouted at the bastard and given him hell for firing her, so she wouldn’t let him see her cry.

It was just a tad bit hard, trying to stop the waterworks right now, but it was something she would achieve soon.

Her phone buzzed on the table, but she just picked it up and put it into her bag without picking up the call or checking the screen to see who was calling.

It doesn’t even matter now. She didn’t want to talk to anybody at the moment. She just wanted to go home and get that chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream out of the fridge and watch some movie with her best friend. Well, the best friend part wasn’t going to work because she knew that he was a busy man.

Dylan McCarthy owned a company that give waiters out for a party or an event and he had bailed her out every time she had been in and out of a job.

Not this time. She didn’t want him to keep helping her out like that every time. She can’t keep running to him wherever she felt like it. It wasn’t right. Besides, his fiancé doesn’t even like her.

Well, the feeling was mutual. She was one of those vain people that have the thought that they should never relate with people that don’t have a certain amount of money in their account.

She often wondered what Dylan saw in her, but then again, people say love is blind. Don’t get her wrong, Blair Van Der Baas was a very beautiful woman, and yes, she had one of those white privilege names, no offense, but she just couldn’t see it.

She carried her box and walked to the elevator, waiting for the doors to open before stepping inside the car and riding down to the down floor.