Chapter 1 #6
Leo dropped the cigarette and crushed it with the tip of his trainer, heat rising to his face. Shit. Prince Joshua, what do you know. Hopefully, he wouldn’t make anything of the confusion.
“Joshua, hello.” Leo fought to mould the greeting into something smooth and calm. Professional, that was it. “Sorry, didn’t recognise you. Normal people state their names when they call. Didn’t they teach that at royal etiquette school?”
Well, professional had segued straight into cheeky.
Okay. To Leo’s relief, Joshua huffed out a soft laugh.
It shivered down Leo’s spine like a warm gust of air.
“Sorry,” Joshua said. “I guess they did and I wasn’t paying attention.
You haven’t been properly bored until you’ve wasted three hours of your life learning how to hold your teacup just so. ”
Properly bored. Back at Eton, Leo might have spoken like that; now, he would be proper bored rather than properly so.
“Posh,” he commented. “It’s true that the art of drinking tea is sadly neglected, though.
You should do something about that. Funnel your royal influence into making a true difference to people’s lives and all. ”
“Hey, it’s not—we’re not totally useless, you know? We can make a real difference in some areas, even if it might not always be obvious. My mum certainly does.” Joshua sounded faintly irritated, and for once, Leo actually hadn’t meant to offend.
“I was kidding, Princeling,” he said quickly.
Tilting his face up into the weak sunlight, he propped both elbows on the railing, phone wedged between cheek and shoulder.
“I’m not a monarchy groupie, but I do acknowledge that you guys have a considerable amount of soft power.
And that the Queen,” your mother, holy shit, “uses it well. It’s the idea of a few random lucky people being born into privilege that I object to.
It’s like you’re playing FIFA at Amateur difficulty level while everyone else is set to World Class. ”
Goddammit, Leo needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut.
It was a recurring challenge for him, but today had turned into a new low.
Then again, he deserved some slack, what with how he’d been randomly thrown into close contact with the guy he’d fancied himself in love with several years ago. In another life.
Also, did Joshua even play FIFA? Did princes do things as mundane as playing video games?
“But is that different from being born into money?” Joshua’s gravelly voice right by Leo’s ear sparked the illusion of nearness, as though Joshua was leaning in for a private murmur.
“Or into an academic household? Or with athletic skills or good looks? I mean, I get what you mean, and I do think it’s important we keep working on equal opportunities, give everyone a fair shot at a good education, ensure that the same work gets the same pay, that sort of thing.
Improve the scholarship system for those from poor families.
But unless you want to bulldozer all differences at birth… ”
Leo hadn’t expected a serious answer from Joshua, and receiving one, delivered with an air of quiet sincerity—it was disarming. “I see your point,” he admitted. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Joshua was quiet for the time it took Leo to draw a deep breath, then he gave a half-formed chuckle. “Well. They do say that a man who is not a liberal at twenty has no heart, and a man who is not a conservative at sixty has no head.”
“Paraphrasing Churchill, eh?” Leo said.
“Well spotted,” Joshua said. “Someone’s been paying attention in school.
” It was an innocent statement that didn’t press for more, but it made the muscles in Leo’s stomach jump all the same.
Joshua hadn’t recognised him from the time they’d shared the hallways of Eton—of course he hadn’t; Leo had been two years ahead of Joshua and moved in a different circle, had also looked like a twink—but Leo didn’t want to supply him with clues that might stir up Joshua’s curiosity and prompt him to dig deeper.
Not that Joshua would bother to look into the past of a guy who happened to run some errands for him. Jesus. Leo needed to calm his tits.
“Up until a certain point, yes,” he said, sounding more bitter than he’d intended. He squinted into the sun, pale through a thin sheen of clouds. “Anyway, I doubt you called to discuss political views. So, how may I help you?”
“Oh, right. Yes.” Joshua sounded almost surprised.
“It’s about what you told me earlier. Do you think you could do that?
Ask Nate to look into whether he finds a trace, or…
something like that? I don’t exactly know how it would work, but please just make sure it won’t trigger a panic reaction?
I’d rather not be caught without…” He snorted. “With my pants down, like, literally.”
To Leo’s surprise, he found himself grinning. “As you wish. We’ve got until tomorrow morning, then? And you won’t tell anyone, anyone, what we’re up to. It’ll be our little secret.”
A palpable moment of hesitation, then Joshua sighed. “I won’t. And you have my number now, so if there’s anything you need to know…”
“I’ll give you a call,” Leo finished for him.
Wow, fuck, he had Joshua’s number. As a teenager, he’d have given his left arm for that—well, not quite, but maybe one of his kidneys.
Living with one kidney was no problem, right?
Also, embarrassing teenage infatuation aside…
“How come you even have my number? Did you call James first?”
“I’m friends with Tristan Gleeson,” Joshua said, and Leo needed a moment to place the name.
Right—fun guy and son to the Marquess of Waterford, the latter ticking just about every box in Leo’s book of prejudices.
So Joshua was a friend of Tristan’s, which definitely spoke in his favour, and so did the fact that he’d actually listened to Leo, had taken his input seriously enough to provide a time window for Nate to find out more.
Not that it was a whole lot of time, but it was something.
“Tristan’s a good one. Tell him hi from me, will you?
” Pushing away from the wall, Leo turned to head back inside while they said their goodbyes in a mildly awkward shuffle.
Jesus, Leo was normally much smoother than this; his ability to adapt had landed him this job in the first place.
He hated feeling like this, out of his element, like some starry-eyed teenager.
Stupid princes. It was worth keeping in mind that just because Joshua said “please” and was willing to listen to someone like Leo, it didn’t mean he wasn’t a spoilt brat.
He had yet to take a risk that wasn’t strictly necessary, after all.
Right. To work.
The first thing Leo did once back inside was pull James out of his meeting with Atkin—with George, whatever—to fill him in. Then Leo barged into Nate’s office and told him to work his magic.
After which he steeled himself to call Joshua back and ask for a list of people who were aware of his sexuality. Stupid. Really bloody stupid, fuck, Leo should have thought of that right away, should not have needed Nate to point that out.
It really hadn’t been fair of Joshua to call without an advance warning, to act all nice and almost, well, shy.
Not fair, no. Leo had been just fine talking to Joshua this morning, but that he had mistaken Joshua for a street kid in need of help had put them on uneven footing right away.
Really, it had been like a kick to the kneecap before the conversation had even started.
As someone who had been through that experience, Leo considered it a fitting analogy.
Well, not this time. This time, Leo was prepared, and he would play his role as a professional like a professional. A professionally professional professional, to be precise.
He would do James proud.