Page 26 of Pride
“What’s me?” Lloyd asked with a frown.
“S.K.A.M. It’s you. You’re the artist.”
Lloyd threw his head back and laughed. It was the first time I’d seen him crack his tough exterior since I’d arrived.
“Are you serious?” he asked, struggling to keep his laughter under control.
I nodded, and he shook his head.
“I wish I had that much talent.” His face softened. “But sadly, no. I’m not S.K.A.M.”
“But you had red under your fingernails on Friday after the performance,” I added, like I was fucking Poirot.
“I’ll admit, I was involved in setting up the staging, putting the buckets in place, and some of the contents might have spilled. But I didn’t stand on that wall and perform.” He took a step back and gestured to himself. “S.K.A.M. is over six foot,Emma. I wouldn’t make that height even in built up heels.” He laughed at himself, and I smiled too, because he was right. Lloyd didn’t match the build.
“Maybe there’s two of you,” I countered, adding, “I know you probably wouldn’t admit it, even if you were involved. You’d want to keep the mystery going.”
A mischievous twinkle sparked in his eyes, and he folded his arms over his chest before tapping his finger on his chin in thought.
“I know a way I can prove I’m not S.K.A.M.,” he said. “Have dinner with me next Thursday. S.K.A.M. is due to perform at a gala in Milan that night. If you have dinner with me, and he’s over there, then you’ll know it isn’t me.” He held his arms out. “I can’t be in two places at once, now, can I?”
I opened and closed my mouth way more times than was necessary trying to find the words to respond. Dinner with Lloyd was the last thing I wanted to do.
Then suddenly, I felt the heat of a stare from across the room, and I shifted my gaze from Lloyd to a pair of green eyes. Eyes that looked surprised at first, before a smile spread across his handsome face.
Alex Kingston mouthed something to a younger man who stood next to him, tapping away on a tablet, then he took a few long strides, walking over to where I was, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.
“Emma.” His warm expression softened as he said my name. “I tried to find you after the performance on Friday. But you left before I could say a proper goodbye.”
A rush of disappointment flowed through me. I wished I’d seen him too.
“It was so hectic at the end. I’m sorry I missed you,” I replied, and he nodded.
“I didn’t expect to see you here today. It’s a nice surprise, though.”
“I didn’t expect to be here,” I stated, as my heart beat faster, knowing that he was pleased to see me. “But I had to come to apologise.”
His smile faded.
“Apologise for what?” He glanced between Lloyd and me, looking mystified. “What’s happened?”
“The article,” Lloyd announced, raising his brows in a telling way.
“Have you read it?” I asked, feeling nervous about his answer.
“Of course I have.”
My breath caught in my throat and my beating heart stuttered with dread and fear.
“It was a little... abrupt,” he went on, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t understand why you’re here to apologise.”
“It was abrupt,” I said, mirroring his words, “But it wasn’t my article.”
Lloyd cleared his throat, preparing to dive into the conversation, but Alex wouldn’t let him.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t your article?”
“I didn’t write it.”
