Along Came A Prince (11 page)

“I’ve had privacy
all my life. I’m enjoying these fifteen minutes of fame. As long as it doesn’t
harm anyone, what difference does it make?”

“But they’ve
twisted the truth into lies, and they’re
harming
my reputation. They
have me sleeping with you, and I haven’t slept with anyone in my life.” She
realized what she’d admitted a split-second later and covered her mouth with
one hand. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say that, I’m just so angry.”

“The way I figure
it, we can do one of three things. We could ignore it and go about our business
of having fun. Not see each other again...which isn’t even an option to me. Or
hide out in your hotel room, and that might lead to its own dangerous
explorations. Or...” A sudden smile appeared. “The fourth choice might be that
I could make an honest woman out of you. We
could
elope.”

Whoa! Clay had
ignored her little confession and didn’t say a word about it. But it wasn’t
enough. She was still incensed, and he treated it all so casually, even about
eloping. “They’re saying we’re having an affair, and you treat it as a joke?”
She raced around the room. “I can tell you haven’t had much experience with the
paparazzi. Well, neither have I – so far anyway, however, I’ve been warned
about them.” She shook her hands in rhythm with each frantic word. “But,” she
exclaimed, “what… do… you… think… my… parents… my friends...” Stacia spread her
arms far apart, palms up for accent, before continuing, “Everyone for that
matter will assume the worst.”

“Can’t you call
the people who are important to you and tell them not to believe any gossip
they hear?”

“You don’t
understand. It’s difficult to live some things down. I’ve worked hard trying to
make the right choices in my career. Now, they’ll say I’m just some...” Her
mind stumbled around searching for the right words. “Bimbo floozy,” she hurled
out.

“Come on, Stacia,
it’s not that bad.” Clay got up and began pacing next to her. “When I said I
wanted to walk today, I didn’t mean this.” He motioned to the room with his
hands and grinned at her.

His remark,
combined with his grin, caused her anger to subside as quickly as if he had
waved a magic wand. “Okay, maybe I am over-reacting a little,” she conceded.

“Then let’s figure
out what we want to do today. Do we stay here or venture out into the world of
the paparazzi?”

“We’ll go,
providing we go out the back door of the hotel.”

“And...”

“I wear my
disguise, and you wear this with sunglasses.” She handed him her Green Bay
Packers’ cap.

“Frontwards or
backwards?” he asked.

“Which do you
like?”

“I’d better stick
with frontwards, so it covers my face.” He put the cap on and pulled it low
over his face. “There, how do I look? Do you have one of those flannel shirts
like yours for me too?” He laughed. “It’s okay, I’ll make do with this. You
know what? I’ve never worn a baseball cap before.”

“What a deprived
life you’ve led,” she said as they walked out the door.

“Are you sure you
want to walk?” Clay asked on the way down the elevator. “I could get a limo.
We’d have more privacy that way.”

“No.” She shook
her head. “We won’t let them dictate what we do.”

♥♥

They snuck out the
back door, and when Stacia scanned the area, she didn’t see any cameras aimed
at them. They walked fast and covered the Hyde Park area, stopping to snack on
various treats and to listen to the men and women talking in Speakers’ Corner. They
continued to walk and sightsee until they were both exhausted.

“Maybe we should
call it a day and go back to my hotel. We could order room service and just
relax,” Stacia suggested.

“After I’ve gotten
used to this baseball cap, I have to take it off?” A smile crept across his
face.

“How about if I
give it to you?”

“I’d be honored to
accept your gift.” He took a few steps past her, turned around and made a
sweeping bow in front of her.

“I hope there were
no cameras around to capture that Kodak moment,” she teased, half-joking and
half-serious.

They reached the
front door of the hotel safely, Stacia hoped. Soon they were in her suite. They
both kicked off their shoes and sat on the sofa next to each other with their
feet propped up on the coffee table.

“Shall I call room
service?” she asked.

“Maybe later,
unless you want something now.”

She shook her
head.

“Tell me, Stacia,
how did you get started in the movie business?”

She cocked her
head sideways and looked up at him. “Do you want my whole life story?”

“I have plenty of
time to listen to it.”

“Well, I was born…”
She stopped and laughed. “I think the short version will do. I grew up on a
farm in Wisconsin with my parents and my older brother, Ryan. When I was a
teenager, my mother took me to Minneapolis – that’s a big city close to my home.
Some man came up to us in a mall there and asked if I’d be interested in
modeling. My mother said no, but he gave us his card anyway. It sounded
glamorous to me, being a teenager. So after a few days of begging and pleading,
my mother consented to let me try. I did and was pretty successful, but I had
this deep longing inside me that I didn’t understand. Modeling made me discover
that I liked performing in front of an audience, but something kept nagging at
me, a thought that wouldn’t go away – I wanted to be more. Finally, I knew – I wanted
to be an actress. When I graduated from high school, my brother graduated from
college. I talked to him about my idea, knowing my parents would not consent
unless my brother cooperated. He said he would, and between the both of us, we
convinced my parents that he’d take care of me if we went to Hollywood, so I
could try to become an actress. Are you tired of my story yet?”

“Nope.”

“Well, against all
odds, I met a Hollywood agent called Hal Montgomery. He took me on, and the
rest, as they don’t seem to get tired of saying, is history. Now it’s your
turn.”

“I’ve led a boring
life. My parents are great, but they sheltered me from everything.” He shrugged.
“It turned out fine though, because they let me focus on my art. I studied
painting and sculpturing, graduated and discovered ice sculpturing and fell in
love with it. So, here I am putting on my little…” He placed his thumb and
forefinger close together to show a small space. “…Ice shows around the world
and enjoying myself immensely.”

“I wouldn’t call
them
little
. You’re too modest. I’ve never seen talent like yours, and I’ve
read and studied enough about art and even worked a couple summers at the art
museum in Minneapolis. So I know I’m right about you.”

They continued
talking until the outside turned dark, and the lights of London blazed on. It
was then that Stacia noticed the little red light blinking on her hotel phone.

“Guess I have a
message,” she said. “Do you mind if I check it out? It might be important.”

She called the hotel’s
message center and listened to Jamie’s frantic-sounding voice. “Stacia, I
couldn’t get you on your cell, so I decided to call you on the hotel phone
also. Call me, please. You have forty-four messages, and I don’t know what to
tell people. There’s a media circus here about you and the prince. Every
newspaper, news channel and magazine in America, and everywhere else, has
called to get an exclusive story. You aren’t engaged, are you?”

Stacia grabbed her
cell and checked her messages.

First came Ryan’s
voice. “Hey, Stace, what’s going on over there with that prince guy? It’s all
over the news here. Call me.”

Next she heard
Hal’s voice. “Call me. Why does an agent have to be the last to know? When’s
the wedding?” He chuckled at the end of his message.

And another. “Sweetheart,
I know not to believe gossip,” her mother’s voice said, “but please call me and
tell me what to believe. I love you. My little girl and a prince, just
imagine.”

Enough of this,
Stacia decided. She tapped the off button and turned toward Clay.

“Was it
important?” he asked.

She didn’t know
how to answer him, so she decided he might as well know the truth, even if it
was embarrassing to admit it. “Evidently, everyone in America and everywhere
else, I guess, thinks we’re in love. They’ve contacted my assistant, and they all
want an exclusive story. See, I wasn’t wrong with my first instinct this
morning.” She got up and paced the floor. “Even my mother called.”

“Does your dad own
a shotgun?”

“What?”

“Well, maybe with
all the gossip, he might want a
shotgu
n
wedding.”

Stacia had to smile
at that idea. It was enough to break the tension and stress gathered inside her.
“Don’t laugh,” she said. “There are two people in this. Wait till you hear your
messages.”

“I’m not afraid,”
he said. He pulled out his phone and put it on “speaker.” Then he checked his
messages. He propped his feet up and stuck his hands behind his head, and they
both listened.

“Hey, Clay, I’m
glad you’re having fun in old London town. Call me and let me know what you’re
doing.”

“That’s one of my
buddies. I told you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Next, a woman’s
voice spoke. “What is happening in London, Clayton Alexander?”

“My mother,” he
interjected.

“I’ve warned you
about things like this happening,” the recorded voice continued. “What do you
know about this actress? If you’re serious about her, bring her to SwissDen. Or
even if you’re not serious about her, bring her home anyway. And soon please,
your father just said.” Clay’s face turned red. He clicked off the speaker
button and the phone. “All right,” he admitted. “I see what you mean.”

“It doesn’t feel
too good when you lose your privacy, does it? I guess I’ll never get used to
it.”

“I hope my few
minutes of fame are over with now.”

“Don’t count on
it,” Stacia said.

♥♥

“Mother, what’s
going on?” Clay asked when he returned to his hotel later that evening. “Why do
you and Dad want me to bring Stacia home?”

“We’ve protected you
all your life, son. For your own sake and the sake of your future reign, you
must be careful of the women you choose to be with. If you can’t be, then
you’ll need some guidance from us.”

“But we’re hardly
serious. I only just met her in California, and the way we met...” Clay
chuckled as he remembered how they met. “Could hardly be called romantic.”

“We agreed to
certain stipulations when we allowed you to show your sculptures at private
parties, and one of those conditions was you were not to get involved with any
woman unless we had her checked out first and approved of her. You must not
forget you’re being groomed to be king. There’s much more at stake here than
love. There’s the crown you will be wearing someday, and you must learn, above
everything else, to rule wisely. What you want personally for yourself and what
is best for the crown are two separate and individual things.”

“Mother, you’ve
uttered those words to me since before I even understood what they meant. I am
a grown man now, and the world has changed a great deal since I was a boy. Things
that were frowned upon back then are accepted now. Look at the difference
between the days of King Edward and Wally Simpson and today with Prince Charles
and Camilla.” Clay kicked off his shoes and bent over to pry off his socks.

“The underlying
factors are still the same. Women want men who have money. And you being the
person you are – young, handsome, charming and on top of all that being rich
and a king one day, makes you one of the most lucrative bachelors in the world.
And, obviously you have added one more thing to your resume – you are now a
celebrity.”

“And how does
being in love fit into your scenario? I know you married my father because you
loved him, and he married you for the same reason. Why shouldn’t I be entitled
to that also?” Clay unbuttoned his shirt and settled back into the comfort of
the room’s plush couch.

“I guess your father
and I were lucky because we fell in love. But there is one huge difference
between you and this Stacia girl and your father and me. Both of us have
royalty running through our veins. You have the same blueblood running through
yours. The woman’s bloodline you choose must match yours.”

“You make it sound
like I’m a racehorse you’re breeding.”

“Clayton...Clayton.
See what’s happening already? You say you hardly know this girl, and see how
she’s changed you. I warned your father not to give you all this freedom.”

“Mother, I love
you very much, but you can’t chaperone me my entire life. You have to let go
and trust in what you’ve taught me since I was small.” Clay heard the door open
and Sam walked into their suite. He waved one hand at his friend.

“But there’s so
much at stake here. Not only in your ruling SwissDen one day, but also the
financial empire you must govern. You know what the ultimate goal is.” His
mother was silent for a moment, then added, “I don’t mean to be a snob, Clayton.
But some choices are made for us, and we must accept them, like it or not. I’m
sure Stacia’s a wonderful person, or you wouldn’t be attracted to her in the
first place. But we’d still feel more comfortable if you’d bring her here. We
don’t like the publicity the two of you together are generating. It can only
get worse if you stay there. So bring her home, please. If you must have a
fling, have it here under guarded conditions.”

“Mother, Sam just
walked in. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t worry. Stacia may not have blueblood
running through her veins, but her red blood is purebred too, as far as I’m
concerned. Tell Father not to worry either.” Clay hung up the phone and turned
to Sam and shrugged. “
Parents
,” he said, accenting the one word to
describe the whole conversation with his mother.