“Or private conversations,” I add.
“Or private conversations,” she agrees, and it feels like a victory, no matter how small.
“We could work it out as we go,” Fabiana replies.
She meansargue it out as we go.
Ronan says, “I suggest we outline some specific ideas. That way we can get a sense of what this might look like in practice.”
Fabiana's eyes light up, and she swipes to another screen on her tablet. “One step ahead of you, Mr. Clementine. I’ve got ‘A Day in the Life,’ including behind-the-scenes context. 'Unexpected Skills’, which would showcase the prince’s talents or interests the public isn’t aware of. Things like whether he can juggle or hold a tune.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Juggle?”
“Can you?” she asks.
“Of course I can.”
“Great! Are you any good at karaoke?” she asks, and once again, Pippa lets out a giggle she immediately tries to style out as a cough.
“I’m terrible,” I reply.
“That’s definitely going on the list then,” she says as she taps at her tablet.
“Hasn’t the country already seen my, shall we say, playful side?” I say.
“They love it! Man-child Max is still trending,” she says.
“Exactly.”
“Lean into your strengths.”
“Being a man-child is my strength?” I question.
“Clearly,” she replies.
Pippa claps her hands together, breaking the mounting tension between Fabiana and me. “This is going to be totally amazing! When can we start filming?”
“What you're describing requires a considerable amount of trust on my behalf, Ms. Fontaine,” I point out.
“Yes,” she agrees without a moment’s hesitation. “Trust works both ways. I'm trusting you to be genuine, and you're trusting me to represent that genuineness fairly.”
“Fairness hasn’t exactly been in your toolbox when it comes to me,” I say, and yes, I sound like a child, stamping my foot and going red in the face when my siblings got more dessert than me.
She shrugs, the smile on her irritatingly gorgeous face not faltering for a moment. “All I can do is give you my word that I will represent you as you are.”
Ronan and I share a look. There’s no point in looking at Pippa. She’s already signed up to be the president of the Fabiana Fontaine fan club.
“What do you think, sir?” Ronan asks.
I tighten my jaw. Not only does this woman seem to be impervious to my charms, but she actively dislikes me. “As long as I get to see the posts and articles before they’re published.”
She nods.
“In that case, we have a deal,” I say.
“Good, good,” Ronan says. “Now, let’s discuss your itinerary. The prince is due at his youth outdoor leadership program at Belladonna Palace this week.”
“Belladonna Palace.” Fabiana repeats, her professional mask slipping.
