Page 16 of Fake Dating the Prince

“Good luck,” Celine told him, and with that Brayden went inside.

FLIPdidn’t mean to spend half the afternoon with Clara, reassuring her she looked beautiful in her dress. He certainly didn’t mean to have to mediate a diplomatic incident with Poland after having his hair cut and before going over his introductory speech for the evening.

Worst of all, he didn’t intend for Brayden to spend the afternoon in the palace by himself, neglected, potentially unprepared for the media frenzy that was Flip’s life.

He had a thoughtful, erudite, heartfelt apology composed and ready to deliver, and then Brayden walked into the anteroom, laughing over his shoulder at something the opera house guide had said, and Flip forgot every last word of his five languages.

It only lasted a second—long enough for Flip to be able to enjoy the way Brayden’s trousers clung to his hips and backside, the way the slim, tapered leg made him look taller than his six feet, and the way the well-cut material emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Even the loud amethyst waistcoat, tie, and pocket square suited him perfectly; Brayden should never attempt to be demure. For the moment, his flyaway hair had been tamed in a style reminiscent of classic Hollywood, in that modern retro way that seemed to be in fashion once again. With his eyes crinkled at the corners in laughter, he looked particularly dashing.

Fortunately, before Flip could embarrass himself with more staring, Brayden’s laugh turned into a smile and broke the spell, leaving behind a moderately good-looking man with more than his share of charisma. “Hey,” Brayden said, brimming with his usual cheer. He held his arms out at his side and spun around once. “How do I look?”

Flip didn’t have it in him to obfuscate. “Like one of the scholarship alumni. I expect everyone will spend the night wondering which film they’ve seen you in.”

Brayden grinned. “Let’s hope they don’t find the video from my cam-boy days.”

Flip must have blanched, because Brayden hastened to add, “Oh my God, no. I’m kidding. I promise I’m not in any internet porn. Or other porn.”

Laughing off the worst of the adrenaline, Flip shook his head. “This should be an interesting evening.”

Brayden sobered. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior—or a whole other person’s best behavior, even. I’m not going to do anything that will reflect badly on you. I’ll just… keep to myself.” He looked so earnest and determined.

Flip thought about the possibilities, about the different ways the night could go, and found that Brayden’s promise presented something of a worst-case scenario. “Don’t,” he said, surprised when it came out forceful. “I mean, maybe don’t make any pornography jokes to anyone but me”—Brayden grimaced sheepishly—“but don’t be someone else.”

I likeyou.

Except Flip couldn’t say that. Could he?

“Brayden lite, then,” Brayden said as he nudged his shoulder against Flip’s. “Slightly more personality than work Brayden, 90 percent fewer dick jokes than off-the-clock Brayden.”

“Maybe eighty-five,” Flip returned, biting back a smile.

“Good deal.” Brayden made as though to put his hands in his pockets, but immediately stopped himself. Bernadette had probably read him the riot act. “So. Do we have a game plan? How exactly does this work? I assume you have schmoozing to do and I’ll just slink off to the bar for a thirty-dollar martini?”

Flip’s stomach twisted. He didn’t especially want to explain. “Actually, ah, I need to talk to you about that.”

“Sounds ominous.” But he didn’t seem worried. “What’s up?”

There was nothing for it. Flip steeled himself and blurted out the truth. “My parents saw Celine had orchestrated a background check on you and assumed that we’re dating. I mean, beyond this single engagement.”

Brayden froze, expression unreadable. “Oh?” he said neutrally. “A bit upset, are they?”

Shit. Oh no, he was angry. Flip knew he’d bollocks it up. “Actually they’re very excited to meet you. It turns out they’ve hated every boyfriend I’ve ever introduced them to, and even on paper, you’re more interesting than any of them.”

Brayden let out a breath that turned into a quiet laugh. “For a second I thought you were going to tell me I’d been disinvited.”

That wasn’t the reaction he anticipated. “So you’re… fine with my parents thinking you’re my boyfriend.”

Brayden shrugged. “I mean, lying to your parents isn’t ideal, but from my perspective, what’s the big deal? We have fun tonight, tomorrow you can tell them I did something unforgivable in a boyfriend but not bad enough for a guest pass to the palace dungeon, and that’s it.” His face lost some of its openness, but not before Flip noted the thin set of his mouth and a tightening around his eyes. “Too bad, though. I’ve enjoyed having a local guide.”

Flip forced himself to relax. “I… me too. Not that I’ve had a local guide. I mean.” He sighed and then immediately regretted his lack of self-control. “You know what I mean.”

Brayden rubbed his shoe against a scuff mark on the floor. “So… you want me to put on a show for your parents?”

“No,” Flip said quickly. He didn’t want to think about why that idea horrified him. “Just… be you, like we talked about.”

The shuttered look eased somewhat, and Brayden’s shoulders crept down from where they’d risen around his ears—probably the best Flip could hope for. “All right. So I’ll meet your parents. When?”

“Soon.” Flip fought the urge to check his watch. “They’re supposed to meet us here before we go in. Which will be… well.”

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