Page 48 of Royal Pain
“I’m Elizabeth,” she says, extending a hand.
“Belinda.”
Zan is busy talking with the doctor, so I don’t introduce him.
“American?”
“Yes. I’m a New Yorker.”
This makes her very happy. “Oh! I’m planning a trip there next year. Is there something you’d say don’t miss? I mean other than the obvious tourist traps.”
“I’d suggest you see a Broadway play. Are you interested in the arts? We have fabulous museums.”
“I’m interested in it all. I just haven’t had the time to indulge myself much. I’ve been on this business treadmill for twenty-five years now. I need to learn to take some time for myself.”
“What do you do, Elizabeth?”
“I run a media outlet. Trackers.”
I put the puzzle together. “Oh, yes. I’m aware of your company.”
“Yes? I’m surprised.”
“I’m a writer. Political analysis and in-depth reporting of worldwide current events.”
She looks at me with a discerning eye. “How interesting. What’s your full name?”
“Belinda Banks. Let me give you my card.”
I retrieve the card from my purse and hand it to her. “I write a weekly column and I do spec pieces for various online magazines and periodicals. I’d be honored if you’d give me a read.”
“I will. Definitely. Of course I’m familiar with your editor. We’ve been at events together a few times. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but we’ve had a few interesting conversations.”
Shit. She knows the media mogul I can’t get within a hundred yards of. I bring the conversation back to its roots, so she doesn’t find me too pushy.
“I’d be happy to send you a few suggestions and links to our venues in Manhattan. For your trip next year.”
Her face brightens. “That would be wonderful! Thank you, Belinda. Let me give you my information. I’m not in the habit of sharing my cell number and private email, but I’m happy to do it for you.”
Yeah. I’m a bit too savvy to take the woman at her word. Not about this. I’m well aware her interests lie in the prince and more specifically his family. At least it does if she’s as good at her job as the reputation that precedes her.
But one hand washes the other. If I can widen my influence as a writer by being published by one of Africa’s biggest news sources, it will be huge. But it only works if I can protect Zan and the private information about the king and his family I’m subject to. I’m not about to risk the relationship or what’s just become mine.
* * *
The trip back is a very different experience. It’s almost pitch black because there’s fewer house lights along this stretch of coast. But the stars are putting on a spectacular show. Zan asked the driver to open the moonroof, and we’ve been stretched out watching the sky.
“Did you see me talking with Elizabeth Loch?”
“Yeah. She’s a bright woman, and powerful.”
“I took her information so I could send her some tips on visiting New York. She’s coming next year.”
“Uh huh. Did you give her yours?”
I sit up so I can look him in the eyes. “Yes. I told her I was a writer too. Secretly I’m hoping to submit to one of her publications. Our interests fit. I just wanted to tell you and say I’m aware she’s a media person above all. I know she’d love to get the story of your father’s illness and the subsequent announcement of the heir to the throne.”
“Your damn right she would,” he says, waiting for me to conclude my thought.
“I’ll never betray the trust you’ve put in me. And to that end, whatever I submit, you’ll see first.”
The smile and the accompanying nod tell me I’ve done the right thing in being open.
“Good. Because you haven’t learned yet, that there’s all kinds of people who will play you to get to us. They work to find your weak spot. I’m not saying there is one, but remember Belinda, not everyone is as ethical or good as you. Just be guarded.”
“I will, love.”
His eyes close as he gently pulls me back down beside him. Quiet is what he needs. But thoughts of the king must be playing on a loop. I’ve thought of little else myself. It must be excruciatingly hard for Zan and the entire family.Note to self. Ask Princess Monifa what I can do to help.
