Page 101 of The Thing About My Prince
“I know you’ve only known each other five minutes.”
“You have absolutely no idea how long we’ve known each other.”
“Well, the first time anyone saw her at your apartment was barely a week ago.” The instant the words are out of her mouth she half closes her eyes, realizing what she’s said.
Oliver lets me go and steps toward her. “Are you spying on me? Is it you who bu?—”
I yank his arm to prevent him from spilling that we know about the bug. It’s better to keep our knowledge of it a secret for now.
“Sweetie, it’s fine,” I say. “I’m going to pack.”
But also, seriously, they have someone following him in New York? This family is tragically fucked up.
“Notspying,” Giles says. “Moremonitoring for security reasons.”
“Well, you can tell your security monitors to fuck right off.” Oliver is now so close to Giles that his furious spit must be landing on his face. “It’s a long time since I have been any of your business.”
Oliver turns and walks around to the other side of the bed as if to put as much distance between himself and them as possible.
“And you all wonder why I moved away.” He shakes his head and pushes his hands through his hair, the action flexing his forearms and biceps—which is not something I should be focusing on right now.
If this is what his mother and Giles react like over a couple of spring break pictures of someone only vaguely associated with their family, what the hell will they be like when the book comes out, spilling stories aboutthem?
I grab my suitcase from next to the desk and swing it onto the bed. There’s already a panic about losing a week working on the book in the pit of my stomach, but we’ll have to make the best of talking on the phone till he’s back in New York.
“Hey, Lexi.” Sofia appears in the doorway and looks around the room. “Oh. Hi…um…everyone.”
“Please, don’t you start too.” Oliver sits on the edge of the bed and buries his face in his hands, his wide back spreading between his slumped shoulders.
“Start?”Sofia looks puzzled. “Lexi, I saw some photos of an actress wearing this dress and now I know what amazing boobs you have, you’re the only one who could pull it off, and it would be perfect for the wedding.”
Oliver looks up from behind his hands. “You’ve seen the article?”
“Yeah,” Sofia says with awhatevertone.
“And you don’t care?” their mother says as if Sofia’s dismissed the end of the British Empire as an insignificant blip on the radar of history.
Sofia shrugs. “Same old, same old. The usual shits saying the usual shitty things.” She crosses the room toward me, holding out her phone. “Look. Isn’t the shape of it gorgeous? And the burgundy would be perfect with your coloring.”
While utterly unimportant in the current circumstances, itisa stunningly cool yet classy dress.
“Honestly, this generation.” Oliver’s mother sniffs. “Your bar for shame is tragically low.” She turns on her heels andclick-clacksout of the room.
Giles scurries after her, muttering things in agreement that include the words “decorum” and“standards.”
“I’ll get the stylist to bring it as one of your choices for theday,” Sofia says before leaning in. “Ignore them. And ignore the press. It’s the only way to stay sane.” She heads for the door too, turning around just before she reaches it. “Seriously. Great boobs.” Then she smiles and disappears, closing the door behind her.
I take a deep breath, my heart rate slowly returning to something that might not register asimminent dangeron one of those hospital beeping machines.
My phone vibrates on the bed with a new email—probably the first of many, given the circumstances.
It’s a message from Mom.
We saw the pictures. No wonder you slept for almost 24hrs straight when you got back from that Florida trip! Just kidding, we’re ignoring it all like you said. We just hope you’re ok and it hasn’t upset you too much. Love, Mom & Dad.
Phew. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining any of that to them. I’ll reply later.
Oliver sprawls back on the bed, and I crawl across it to kneel beside him.
