Page 37 of Prelude To You

Meg and Felix shared a long look. I wasn’t sure if they were flirting or considering what to do with me. “Guys I’m fine, really,” I said, waving off Meg’s concern.

“Well,” Meg said hopefully. “They don’t have like a super-prolonged effect. It’s like now you feel it, ten minutes later you’re good again.”

She looked at Felix. “Hey, at any point you see her acting weird, you turn around and bring her the hell back, you got that?”

“Explainacting weird,” Felix said. “Are we talking about loss of inhibitions, or speaking in tongues?”

Meg pinned Felix with a biting stare. “Felix, I swear to God… Please look after her, I beg of you.”

“I will, don’t worry. I’ll see you later, darlin’.”

“Yeah, don’t forget the wine,” Meg said.

Felix smiled lovingly. “And one jumbo box of wine for my girl.”

10

ROMAN

“You should get some sleep, Roman,” Steven said. He was standing in front of my desk, impeccably dressed as always, his bulky frame neatly poured into a bespoke suit. As the man who handled every detail of my security needs, it was important that he look the part.

Which he hadn’t always.

Years ago I had to convince him that since he’d taught me to be a man, he should allow me to teach him how to dress like a gentleman. It was during a flight to my tailor on London’s Savile Row that I explained to him the difference between tailored and bespoke suits.

“A tailored suit comes in off-the-shelf measurements, and is altered to fit the individual client’s needs,” I explained. “And while a tailored suit is nothing to scoff at, a bespoke suit is basically a second skin. It’s not just about measurements and fabric, but the actual detail of the elements of the suit. It’s the way the cuff and the pants will touch different parts of the body, and most importantly the pitch and angle of the collar and lapel in relation to your shoulders, face, and upper body.”

As always Steven grudgingly complied, and for a week he suffered the tailor touching and measuring his large frame while discussing the finer details of fabric choice and lining.

The first time Steven saw himself in a bespoke suit, he did something he didn’t do very often. He smiled. And then he thanked me, and we never spoke of it again. Once a year, we set aside a few days to visit our tailor on Savile Row.

Dressed in a bespoke suit or not, Steven was never anything less than intimidating. I’d become far less daunted by his presence over the years, except when it involved his unhappiness about me ignoring safety measures.

Even if it was his job to always be in the background, I have yet to feel him encroach on my personal space. But if I crossed the line, he would make it known in no uncertain terms.

I didn’t leave the estate unless he knew where I was going, and it was always an unspoken rule that I wore my signet ring with the family crest. It had a tracking device inside that could pinpoint my location to within three feet.

Standing in front of my desk now, his stoic expression depicted a very unhappy man. He slid a USB drive the size of a penny across the desk. That small drive contained camera footage of my ‘incident’ with The Dancer. I resisted the urge to grab it. “Did you watch the footage?” I asked instead.

“I did.”

“And I’m sure you found nothing offensive,” I said hopefully, suddenly eighteen years old all over again.

“Can’t say I expected this kind of behavior from you, Roman. It’s indiscrete and out of character.”

I sighed, exhausted. “If it’s any comfort, even I was surprised that I would do that.”

Steven remained a statue, not a muscle in his face moving. “I don’t think I have to tell you what a security risk that was,”he stated. “Not to mention creating a spectacle you can’t really afford to be made public.”

“Most people don’t even know who I am,” I said. “I think we’re safe.”

“I’ll decide when you’re safe and when you’re not.”

“Oh please, it was a few minutes of indiscretion. With the lady’s permission, I might add. And since I was surrounded by my security detail, there was zero risk. As you’re well aware.”

“Do you know her name?” he asked.

“No.”

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