didn’t know what that meant, or what it might indicate about my feelings. But I’d made the girl a promise that I’d be back to see her again, and by God, I meant to see that promise through.
The US State Department would just have to get over that. And, I added mentally, I was going to have to find a really good way to do it without my brother—or the Taranan State Department—finding out about it.
I turned the pad of paper in front of me over, grabbed a pen, and started writing down ideas for how to do exactly that.
Chapter 13
Erika
When my alarm went off, I literally had to stop myself from taking my phone and throwing it across the room and against the wall.
I mean, it wasn’t my phone’s fault that I had to get up if I was going to get anything done today before I had to go to work tonight. It certainly wasn’t my phone’s fault that I had barely slept, spending my precious time in bed tossing and turning instead.
And the reason for that tossing and turning also had very little to do with my phone. Because my phone couldn’t exactly do anything about the fact that I had yet to hear from Francisco, the hot guy I’d spent that incredibly hot weekend with… and then never heard from again.
I turned the alarm off then flipped over onto my other side so I could stare through the window at the cityscape outside. It wasn’t much of a view—because I definitely couldn’t afford a view—but I could see a sliver of the sky through the brick buildings outside my window, the view just starting to get that yellow glow of afternoon light, a few clouds floating through the patches of blue I could see.
It had been a gorgeous day, by the looks of things. And as usual, I’d missed it. Because I was stuck in a job where I had to work at night, which left me sleeping through the entire day.
It definitely wasn’t what I’d pictured for my life when I’d been enrolling at college, all starry eyes and rainbow dreams. At that time, I’d been seeing a career in music ahead of me, seeing myself traveling across the country with my guitar strapped to my back—or something slightly more glamorous than that—as I made music for the masses, pouring my heart and soul into my songs for the world to hear.
It had never happened, obviously. Or rather… Well, I guessed it could have happened. Except that I had that little issue when it came to having to pay bills and eat. If not for those minor details, hitting the road with nothing but my guitar would have been an easy decision.
But, you know, refusing to eat wasn’t actually an option.
Hence the best-paying job I could find that still left me some time for making music. A year ago, bartending had easily fit that particular description. And now here I was, lying in bed at four in the afternoon, trying to pull myself back into the real world as I contemplated one more night of cleaning up after drunks while simultaneously serving them the best drinks I could manage.
All of which led me to spending my time around people who did things like passing out in bars like mine. People like Francisco.
Who still hadn’t called.
I sighed and finally let my brain go back to that weekend, and the way it had ended, and closed my eyes against the mellow glow of the sunshine through the window. It had been such a great weekend. A literal whirlwind of food, exploring, music, and drinks, and all of it topped off with a long, steamy night in bed. It had been everything I’d ever heard an adventure should be, wrapped up with one very hot and romantic foreigner.
A foreigner who was a prince. Who then got arrested and deported. And who had, before said deportation, promised me that he’d be back—and that he’d find me when he did return.
And though I’d given him my phone number the last time we’d talked, and I’d fully—okay, mostly—believed that he would actually try to get back to Chicago, that was a week ago, and I’d yet to receive anything. No email, no text, no phone call. Nothing even remotely resembling communication from some tiny European island called Tarana.
And nothing that made me think that would change anytime soon.
At that moment, my phone started buzzing away, and I grabbed at it, annoyed.