Corina stopped the recording and reached down for her messenger bag. “If you don’t want to do the interview—”
“Corina, love, don’t be this way. What’s the fun of a one-sided interview?”
“Our deal was dinner if you let me interview you. Not you interviewing me.”
“Sorry, darling, I thought you’d ask more interesting questions. ‘How did you prepare for the role?’ The idiots from theLibPask those sorts of things.”
“What sort of questions do you want to answer?” She folded her arms, waiting, mentally composing her opening sentence.Clive Boston is a scoundrel.
“Like why a man with an IQ of one fifty and a degree in astrophysics craved the stage? The limelight?”
He had an IQ of one fifty? “Whydoesa man with a high IQ crave the stage?”
“Because he wants to be loved. Approved. Applauded.”
“Doesn’t everyone? At some level? So why acting? Why not the world of science?”
Clive raised his tea for a drink but set it back down before taking a sip. “Because it’s fun to pretend. To be someone else.” He stared at her. “Don’t you think?”
“Why does my relationship with Stephen interest you so much?”
“He’s the Prince of Brighton. Love is hard to come by for princes. King Stephen I certainly worked to win his queen. Built that manor for her. Defied his council over her.”
“Love is hard to come by for most people. True love, anyway. So is that why you’re an actor? To find true love?”
He laughed. “Good grief, no. If anything, the stage, along with the acclaim, is an actor’s only true love. Besides, what one lacks in love one can make up in riches. The pay is fabulous.”
She scribbled a note.Research Clive’s academic life.“So money is better than true love?”
“No, but it’s a nice consolation prize.”
“We have money. Lots of it. But not one red cent of the Del Rey fortune can bring back my brother.” Nor purchase her true love’s heart. “I can’t even buy the details of his death.”
“I’m sorry, Corina. I must sound like an insensitive clod.”
“Don’t apologize. You were just being honest. I’m the one snapping.” Their eyes met for a moment on the level plane of understanding. “So, you have an IQ of one fifty?”
“According to the test. If you can believe those things.” The tone of his voice drifted, sounding more like an everyday man than an arrogant actor.
“And a degree in astrophysics?”
“Says the diploma in the bottom of my bureau drawer.” Clive jerked when his phone buzzed from his coat pocket. “Pardon me, Corina.” Walking toward the street, he talked in a low tone.
Alone, Corina hunted for the image Clive mentioned on her iPad, starting with theLiberty Press. She searched the inside pages, but instead of finding the photo, she found an update. A press release from the King’s Office.
Tuesday, 15 June
12:00 p.m.
The King’s Office responded to our request for information on the Prince of Brighton’s date from last night.
“The Prince of Brighton is not romantically involved with the woman who attended the King Stephen I premier with him. Corina Del Rey, an American heiress and an entertainment reporter with the Beaumont Post, is merely an acquaintance.
The prince is focused on his ankle rehabilitation, eager to return to rugby for the Premiership. “Romance is not important to me right now,” the prince said.
The Prince of Brighton will be in attendance for the Children’s Literacy Foundation Art Auction tonight at the Galaxy.
Corina shivered despite the respite in rain and the sun peeking under the awning. Acquaintance. She’d been demoted from lover to friend to acquaintance.
