“How was the trip?”

“Long. I’m definitely glad that I’m home.”

“Me too. Dinner always tastes better when you cook it.”

I laughed because, along with being messy, Katy wasn’t the best of cooks. Unless it could be heated up in a microwave, she wasn’t to go anywhere near the stove. Our first week in the apartment, she managed to set a pot of water on fire. To this day I still wasn’t sure how she’d managed that. But Katy made up for what she lacked in culinary skills with design. That woman could find a ratty desk on the side of the road that looked as if it had been run over a few times and she could turn it into a beautiful masterpiece. And not just that, but she knew exactly how to style our apartment. Anytime I walked in the door, the living space took my breath away. It should be featured in a magazine.

“Do you need help unpacking?”

“Naw, I’m just going to throw it all in the laundry and catch a nap. You know I never sleep well in hotels.”

“I can order Chinese for dinner. Steak and veggies?”

“You know it.”

“Alright. You rest up, and then I want to hear all about your assignment.”

Moving toward the kitchen, I opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, chugged the contents, then made my way back to my luggage and dragged it to my bedroom.

The building was modern, so the bedrooms were large and each had its own bathroom. The closet in my room was a bit larger, but since my mother sent me new designs frequently, I needed the space.

Opening the suitcase, I took out all my camera equipment and toiletries, then grabbed the canvas laundry bag I had shoved inside. I learned early never to pack more than I needed on an assignment. Quite frequently, I went days without the chance to change my clothes. Luckily I had spent time in Europe over the last three weeks, so I didn’t run into the same problems I had when I was commissioned to photograph the damage poachers had left across the African Savannah.

As I tossed the dirty clothes into the washing machine in our hallway laundry room, I tried to forget about the assignment I’d just returned from. Knowing that I was set up to fail left an acidic feeling in the pit of my stomach and I knew popping a couple of antacids wasn’t going to fix it.

After starting the machine, I made my way back to my room, shoved the now empty suitcase under my bed, and dove under the sheets on my bed. I didn’t even care that I was still wearing the same clothes I’d worn on the plane. I needed to fall into a dark abyss where my mind could shut off.

Two hours later, I stumbled into the living area while towel drying my hair. I wished I’d been able to get better sleep, but the events of the last couple of weeks kept playing around in my head.

“Oh, perfect timing,” Katy said as she came out of her bedroom. “Dinner will be here shortly.” As I draped the damp towel on the back of the dining chair, my friend cocked her head to the side and looked me over. “Something’s wrong.”

Not sure how much I could divulge, I replied, “Maybe.”

“Sit,” she commanded and pointed her finger toward the overstuffed cream-colored sofa. I shook my head but followed her directions and headed to the couch. Once I sat down, Katy did the same. “Spill.”

“Can we wait for the food?” Internally I begged that she would say yes, but instead, she narrowed her eyes in my direction. Just as I was about to cave, the doorbell rang.

“Saved by the bell.”

Katy stood and made her way to the door while I slouched against the couch cushions, letting the fluffy material envelop my body in its folds. Without a word, she shuffled over to the kitchen, grabbed some utensils and then two bottles of water from the fridge before joining me again on the couch. She returned with a large plastic bag and began divvying the boxes of rice, egg rolls, and plastic containers on the coffee table.

As she peeled the lid off her General Tso’s chicken, Katy murmured, “Time to multitask, my friend.”

“Fine, but can I turn on The Bachelorette? I need to catch up.”

“Duh,” she said with a sigh as she shoved a piece of gently breaded chicken into her mouth.

With the remote in hand, I queued up the episodes I’d missed, pretty much the entire season, and pressed play. I tried to put off the conversation as long as I could, piling rice into the plastic container and mixing it with my steak and veggies, but Katy continued to huff under her breath, knowing that it would annoy me.

“I took a leave of absence from my job.”

Katy being the class act that she was, spit out the eggroll that she had just taken a bite out of and spewed it across the rug.

“What the fuck? You love your job.” She leaned down and began picking up the bigger pieces of the mess she made while I made a mental note to run the vacuum after we finished.

“I do. I did. My boss Jacob is just. . .ugh. . .I don’t know how to explain it all without making it worse than it is.”

“Just spit it out, Addison. Maybe I can help.”

“Like you did with your eggroll?” I joked.

“Shut it. Now,” she said as she shoved a forkful of rice into her mouth, “continue.”

Just thinking about what happened when I arrived at Heathrow airport was enough to have my cheeks redden and my stomach to roll. The man who had been trailing me the last three weeks playing the part of a tourist proudly showed off his media badge at the security checkpoint before loading the plane, then winked in my direction. I’d been furious as I watched him board with the first-class passengers on the same flight I was boarding. That feeling grew as we traveled back to D.C., only for me to have a message from my boss showing images of the story he wanted me to capture. These weren’t the in-depth images of the royal family with their humanitarian efforts as they traveled abroad, that I’d captured. The assignment the magazine I worked for was commissioned to cover. They were of the princess in compromising positions.

“Do you remember that the magazine was sought out to help cover the charity work of the royal family?”

“I do.”

“Well, my boss was more concerned with catching the royals doing something less charitable.”

“Why?”

“Well, there have been rumors about the princess having an affair with two of her security guards.”

“Is she?” Katy had placed her fork on the side of her container and was very much hanging on every single word I said. She had always been one that lived for gossip.

“I don’t know, which is where Jacob had a problem. He was hoping that if the opportunity arose, I could put them in an awkward situation or something, or at least capture the alleged love triangle.”

“He should know that you would never do that.”

“Right? Apparently not. And he sent another photographer to trail me. And the worst part is he was listed as a freelancer.”

“So, not tied to the magazine. . .”

“Nope.”

“And I’m guessing he caught them in the act.”

“Exactly. And the magazine is going to publish them.”

“But if he wasn’t there on behalf of the magazine-” she began, but I finished for her.

“Then it looks like I took the photos and broke the royal's trust.”

“Oh, Addi. Is there anything you can do?”

“Probably. I need to look into it, but right now, I just want to forget everything. It just sucks because they were all so kind to me while I traveled with them and the other media attendees.”