Page 63 of How to Date a Prince

“Quite.” I sip my tea, blearily considering my father as he moves methodically throughThe GuardiantoThe Independent. He has a habit of calling up all the papers, at least on the weekend, to see what everyone’s talking about. In theory, he’s following politics, or at least that’s what he’s always told Anne and me. But in truth, he’s lost deep in the Entertainment sections, following his programs and other events around the city. Culture vulture, my father. He’s frail behind the shield of his newspaper.

My usual breakfast is brought to me, orange juice and oatmeal and a yogurt berry parfait. I slowly work my way through the parfait, swiping through my phone messages that I’ve ignored all week.

Finally, my father stirs. He rises and pauses by me, patting my shoulder. “I know the program isn’t your idea of a fun time. And I appreciate you seeing this through.”

I bite down before I make any quip like “did I have any choice in the matter” and give a stoic nod as if we are discussing serious world events. “I hope you like the show when it airs. Whenever it premieres, that is.”

Actually, what the hell will he think when it airs? I hadn’t thought much about true reality. Who knows how Gisele will distort things even further. Especially if she airs footage of Thomas and me together. Flustered, I gulp down some tea and scald my tongue. I wince.

“Late September, I believe,” says my father without skipping a beat.

“Of course you know.” I shake my head.

“Don’t you?”

“They haven’t told us.” I shrug. “We’re focused on week to week. Back at it Monday.”

He reaches forThe Times. As he unfolds the newspaper, one of the headlines catches my attention.

Golden Family Leads Anti-Monarchy Rally Today in London

“Father, may I please have the cover story?” I reach out to take the section from him. His gaze flickers to the headline, and a small frown creases his face.

“This reminds me, we will have extra security measures today for the protest outside the palace,” my father says wearily. Then, he opens the entertainment section. I can’t help but notice the lasting tremor in his hand, something that started a few months ago. He’s been slowly fading since Mum passed. Since then, he finds it easier to live in someone else’s reality rather than his own.

My mouth twitches as I skim the article. Daniel Golden is expected to give a speech, presumably Thomas’ father or another relative. And then my heart sinks with a gut punch when I read Thomas will be there too. My fingers tighten on the paper. It rustles. Why didn’t he say anything to me?

Inside my chest, something tightens.

My father clears his throat. “I’m off to Tokyo. I fly out tomorrow morning.”

“’Kay. I hope you enjoy your trip. Have some sushi for me. I bet you’re huge in Japan.”

My father peers at me with a flicker of a smile across his lips. I lift my eyebrows ever so slightly. Then I sip my tea.

“Quite,” he says. “Good luck next week.”

And I’m going to more than need it as a new ache settles around my heart.

ChapterTwenty-Two

On Monday afternoon, I’m back out at the estate for the third week of filming onRenaissance Man. Colin gathers us all together.

“Welcome back, gentlemen. It’s a delight as ever to see you all. To recap, Thomas currently holds first place, on the lead to a million pounds. And our dark horse, the esteemed Prince, is now in second position after last week’s shock virtuoso creation. Who knew we had a true sculptor in our midst?” He gazes at me.

I redden over so lightly under the scrutiny of the cameras. We’re outside in the rose garden this morning, in the midst of pink and red climbing roses along the side of the house. I give Thomas a sidelong glance, the first time I’ve seen him for week three. He smirks and lifts an eyebrow. I roll my eyes. On the other side of him, Wilson’s expression is sour. Thomas and I are supposed to be pretending this week not to like each other. After the rally, I can’t help but feel betrayed.

“And now, I’m sure you’re all keen to know the theme of this week. Just in time for a heat wave, no less, gentlemen.” Colin chuckles. “I don’t control the weather or the schedule, I’m afraid. With no further delay, this week’s challenge is—Sporting and Athletics.”

There are some excited murmurs. I suppress a groan. I mean, I’m more than passable at sports. But I gave up my sport of choice years ago. Meanwhile, Wilson grins. Clearly, this is his forte. And I’m sure Thomas is a ringer for this challenge as well.

“That’s the enthusiasm I’m always looking for.” Colin bobs his head, grinning broadly. “And for extra fun, we’ve split this into three mini challenges this week.”

There’s a mumble in the crowd.

“We’ve added a new element—team sports—for one of the first challenges. Which is—football!” He looks terribly excited. “Five-a-side, to be specific.”

“Soccer,” Thomas breathes beside me.

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