“I should thank you for the gesture, but I’m pretty sure it was just a way to get me over here.”
“You thought right.”
This is where the games begin.
“Why are you here, Ben?”
“To see you.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
“You’re an easy stalk. You should take more care with what you publish.”
She rolls her eyes. “Really?”
“You’re the friend of the future queen; you’re associated with the English Prime Minister and the fiancée of the deceased heir to the Scottish throne. You’ve got kidnap target written all over you.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Seriously, Elise. You need to take more care.”
She sips her champagne. “Why the fuck would you care?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve known you as long as Blair.”
The shrug she gives is almost stiff enough for her shoulders to stick. “Let’s be honest, you’ve never been my biggest fan.”
“Doesn’t mean I’d like to see you dead.”
“Good to know.”
“How are things with you and Goldsmith?”
Her eyes fix on mine and narrow. “He’s an acquaintance of Blair’s.”
“Who you’ve been seen with several times.”
“Is this what this is about? You’re worried that I’m going to tell him about the time Blair swore she’d never step foot in England because it was a country full of heathens or something? Don’t take me for a fool. And I’ve seen William a couple of times.”
“Does that include in a bookshop when you pretended to have never readThe Prince?”
Elise has tells. When she’s lying she glances left. When she’s trying to think quickly, she rubs her nose and swallows.
“I have no idea what you mean. You know we readThe Princeat school.”
“So why pretend to Goldsmith you hadn’t read it yet?”
“I didn’t.”
I laugh.
“I’ve no idea where you got this from, but it’s false information. You shouldn’t believe everything people tell you, Ben.”
I wait for her to be quiet, see her panic at my silence.
“I was in the bookshop when Goldsmith boughtThe Prince.”
Her mouth gapes open. “I didn’t see you.”
