Chapter 13
Thirteen
The next day, Lauren found herself on the sidelines of the Picture Gallery at Buckingham Palace alongside Eugene while the
Queen, the Duke of Exeter, and the president of Congo and his entourage took a tour of an art display curated for his visit
to the UK.
Her life had become a very strange Mad Lib.
She was listening attentively, hands behind her back, when Joy came into the room, carefully closing the door behind her.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Lauren whispered as Joy sidled up next to her.
“It’s very last minute,” Joy said. She was flushed and smiling as she straightened her suit jacket. “I was at the Lewisham
youth center engagement with the Prince and Princess of Strathearn, but traffic was unusually light for some reason, so I
was able to make it back in time.”
“And?” Lauren said. “How was it?”
Joy clenched her fists and hid behind a column so she could do the tiniest victory dance.
“So good!” she squealed under her breath.
“The Strathearns were there and present and they asked excellent questions, and the kids and staff seemed to really enjoy speaking with them.” Joy tucked her hair behind her ears as she continued.
“Everyone there was so excited to have the media covering their efforts, lots of TV cameras, and the pictures going up online now look great. It just made me feel like this job is working, you know? All the struggle was worth it for today.”
“Of course it is!” Lauren said before giving her a quick one-armed hug. “I’m so happy for you, you worked so hard to make
that visit happen.”
“And don’t I know it,” Joy said. “What did I miss here?”
“You’re just in time to witness me not actually meeting the Queen again. This is the closest I’ve gotten so far.” The Queen,
she had been told when she joined, rarely communicated with anyone on the comms team, using Eugene as a conduit. She had been
promised, however, that an introduction would happen “at some point,” though that was starting to feel like a pipe dream.
The Picture Gallery was majestic, with arched skylights stretching throughout the rooms and dusty rose damask wallpaper across
every wall. Intricate patterns of leaves and flowers were woven into long Chinese-style rugs, and Lauren half felt like she
should have taken her shoes off before stepping on them. It was the duke’s first engagement alongside the Queen, so he seemed
a little nervous as they toured the room with their guests, discussing the artifacts on display. When he glanced at Lauren,
she could see the change in his eyes. He suddenly looked like he had the last time she’d seen him, when they were sat on the
hotel sofa in Singapore: less duke and more Jasper.
She told herself to turn away, but she didn’t, and when he gave her the barest hint of a smile, she did the same.
She was here to work, she reminded herself, and immediately went to Eugene’s side to assist with the receiving line details.
“Dare I ask how the final op notes for the US state visit are looking?” he muttered to her as the Queen and the Congolese
president chatted in French, their translators standing alongside them just in case any additional help was needed.
“You can absolutely dare,” Lauren whispered back. “It’s all going just fine. We’re two weeks out, and I’m planning to send
everything out to the media after the next weekly press briefing.”
“Just doing my job,” he replied. “I have to say, it is nice having an American handle the Americans.”
“Thank you. I think.”
They continued around the Picture Gallery as Lauren’s little comms team trailed behind the two state dignitaries, Harriet
looking just thrilled to be there and Violet working with a photographer to make sure he got social media–friendly posts as
she captured footage on her phone. It was funny how Lauren had begun to predict their movements, how Harriet would always
be fiddling with her sweater sleeve, or how Violet would suddenly move across the room to film from a different angle. She
felt like they were in an intricate dance that only they knew, an oddball little family.
It wasn’t slick like the White House press office, of course, but it was something.
Jasper suddenly crossed in front of her, and Lauren nodded her head as she got out of the way. “Your Highness,” she said.
“No curtsy?” he whispered. Lauren hid a smile behind her hand, pretending to cough. “Pleasure to see you, Your Highness,”
she said, then stepped away to admire a painting.
When she glanced up again, he was talking to someone but looking at her, and as they both moved around the room, she could feel that pull to him, could feel his eyes on her again and again.
She focused on his hands, her phone, his hands, the paintings, his hands.
She remembered how his palm had felt on her leg back in Singapore, so warm and steadying, thrilling and comforting.
“Lauren.” Joy was suddenly next to her. “Can I speak to you outside for a moment? Real quick, something just came up.”
“Oh, of course,” Lauren said, and wondered if she looked as flustered as she felt. She motioned to Eugene that she was going
to step out a minute, and as soon as the door shut behind him, Joy was leading her down the hall to an empty room that easily
looked like it could be in a museum.
“What in the world are you doing?” Joy said.
Lauren paused. “Um, taking notes while the Queen and the president of Congo look at a collection of newly restored sculptures?”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” Joy replied, and all the happiness that had been in her voice just a few moments earlier
was gone.
Shit.
“I’m not doing anything,” Lauren said.
“You and the duke”—Joy lowered her voice to a stern whisper—“are practically making googly eyes in front of everyone.”
“We are not making googly eyes!” Lauren said.
“Please tell me,” Joy said, pressing her fingers to her temples, “that the director of royal communications at Buckingham
Palace has not gotten entangled with the Duke of Exeter, member of the royal family and the tabloids’ number one new obsession.”
Lauren took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “There may have been a tiny moment in Singapore between Jasper and—”
Joy didn’t let her finish. “Jasper?!” she whisper-screamed. “You’re calling him Jasper now?”
“The duke—”
“How tiny was this ‘tiny moment’?”
Lauren paused. “We might have kissed in the hotel room. But only briefly.”
Joy’s eyes widened, and she quickly glanced around the hallway to make sure that no one was in earshot of their conversation.
“And you didn’t tell me?!” she said, her voice almost a hiss.
“Nothing has happened since then, I swear!”
“My God, Lauren.” Joy took her own deep breath. “Okay, I need you to listen to me. I’m sure the Duke of Exeter is a very lovely
person. I know that you yourself are a very lovely person, which is why I need you to hear this. You cannot, for any reason
whatsoever, get into a situation or anything else, with him.”
“Joy, I was literally just at Oscar’s yesterday.” Lauren said, trying to laugh it off, but her own voice sounded too high
and reedy, like a little kid who had just been handed a recorder.
“And that’s great. Go be with Oscar every night of the week, I don’t care,” she continued, lowering her hushed voice to an
even quieter tone so she couldn’t be overheard. “A reporter is a risk in itself, but that’s your choice. A member of the royal
family? Lauren, I know you think you know what could happen, but I’m telling you now, you do not. The press will absolutely
destroy you. There won’t be anything left of you, or your family, by the time they’re done. Your privacy, your reputation,
everything. They aim to kill, Lauren, and they are very good at what they do.”
There was a fear in Joy’s face that Lauren had never seen before. It scared her. “Okay,” she said. “Nothing’s happening with
us, and nothing will ever happen again.”
“Are you sure? Do you promise me?”
“I promise. You’re so upset, I didn’t—”
“You have no idea what I saw at Scotland Yard,” Joy said, and the fight seemed to ebb away from her posture.
“The tabloids and their wiretaps. They were even tapping our own phones at one point. Some of the worst things they did never even saw the light of day. I can’t in good conscience stand here and think about anything like that happening to you. ”
“I said it’s fine!” Lauren snapped. “You don’t need to lecture me. I’m not an idiot.” She felt hurt and embarrassed, being
chastised by her best friend, especially because she knew that Joy was right about all of it. “I’m an adult, I can make my
own decisions. You’re my friend, not my mother, and I don’t need you treating me like I’m a child!”
Lauren regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, and she found herself wanting to claw at the air as if she
could take them back and hide them away. “Joy—”
“So that’s how you think friendship works, then,” Joy said, holding up her hands. “Fine. I warned you, don’t say I didn’t.
I’m looking out for you, and I’ll be damned if I watch you screw up this opportunity and hurt yourself even more. But I’m
also not going to roll over and let you speak to me that way.” Joy’s voice was stern.
“I need to go back inside,” Lauren said, smoothing down her skirt and trying to calm her racing heart. Fighting with a friend
was so much more disorienting than fighting with a boyfriend, something that she knew all too well. “I have a job to do right
now, which I can do very well and take seriously, thank you.”
“Then go,” Joy said, holding up her hands once again. She looked frazzled as well, and when Lauren turned to leave the room,
Joy didn’t immediately follow her.