“Are you sure it’s not just because they’re bored, looking for someone to pick on?”
“The media can do their worst, but the people love you. We feel a bit adrift when you’re away.”
“Adrift?” His expression softened. “Because they’ve no one to tease and mock? Your friend Leslie Ann run out of princes to psychoanalyze?”
“Forget Leslie Ann. She loves the sound of her own voice. The people felt for you, they’re for you. They don’t see Prince Pathetic or Pudgy Prince or whatever else they can alliterate. They see Prince Charming, the spare heir who won us over with his brilliant smile and prowess on the football field. The prince who served his country in the Royal Army alongside every other chap called up for duty.”
“How nice to see the world from your eyes.”
“Then listen to what I say. Make my picture your picture.”
“I’ll try. But I still see the pathetic chap, the fool waiting for his bride who never showed.”
“I see a chap who loved with all his heart.” She touched his hand, then pulled away. “Everyone will be so glad to see you. I promise.”
“Pete.” Helene appeared again. “Either ask her out or cut her loose. You’re needed behind the bar.”
“You heard the boss.” He gave her a quick salute. “I must go. But please, keep my secret? I’m not ready to be in the public eye yet. Not from here. Helene would not thank you or me, or Ms. Parker, if her place was overrun with the press and royal seekers.”
“Mum’s the word.” She mimed locking her lips and tossing away the key. “I’ve got your back.”
By the time she made it to the loo and returned to her table, her burger had arrived.
“Where have you been? I was about to call for rescuers.” Leslie Ann set down her half-eaten burger.
“Long line at the loo.” Daffy peeked at the bar where the bearded prince laughed with a patron and poured a pint.
“Will you look at this?” Leslie Ann held up her phone. “I am missing all the juicy news at home. Celebrities breaking up, royal wedding details. Lady Holland announced who was making the wedding cake. Still no word on her dress though.” Leslie Ann sighed. “Daffy, are you sure you don’t know anything?”
“About her dress? How on earth would I? Now, Ella, what about the Space Center? Did you get tickets?”
“Hold on a moment.” Leslie Ann turned her phone’s flashlight on Daffy. “You’re blushing. Again.”
Chapter Four
Gus
What in the world? A constant pinging sound drew him from a sound, deep sleep. The night maintenance man called in sick, so Gus stayed to clean the vats and hose down the kitchen. It was after 3:00 a.m. before he crawled into bed.
But what did his phone care? Text after text pulled him from a sound sleep. Gus slapped the side table, feeling for his phone.
“All right. What? What?” Sometimes his mates from home included him in a funny meme text. Five lads sending smileyfaceicons orLOLreplies got old quickly. “This better be good.”
Focusing on his screen as the mid-morning light edged the drawn shades of his second-story room, Gus scanned the most recent text.
It was from John with a link to theMorning Show. What was this? Yawning, Gus ran his hand through his tangled hair then tapped the link. As it opened, another video link arrived from his friend Charles Larrabee.
Did you see this?
Same one John sent. What could possibly be so interesting on theMorning Show?
Gus pressed the play icon. But the screen remained dark and silent. He upped the volume. After a second, a voice sounded.
“I’m standing outside a pub on the beach in central Florida. The Captain’s Hideaway. Viewers, you are not going to believe—”
Gus tumbled out of bed.No, no, no.
A light flashed across a face. Leslie Ann Parker. Standing on Helene’s deck.
