To Kiss a King - NIcole Burnham Page 0,63
that often. Arturo and Paolo assured me that I can get the movie on here and showed me how to find it in the menu.”
Claire moved behind Eduardo and wrapped her arms around his waist as he hit the power button. “I love that your grandchildren teach you things about your own apartment.”
“They’re too smart for their own good. Federico has to work hard to keep up with them.”
Claire planted a kiss on the back of Eduardo’s neck, then offered to refill his water glass. As she moved to the bar, she said, “I know what I said earlier about popcorn, but I can watch without it. Dinner was far too tempting for me to save room.”
Eduardo made a sound of agreement, but didn’t speak. When she turned from the bar, water glasses in hand, his eyes were riveted on the television. He raised his hand and clicked the remote to change the channel, but not before Claire saw her own face on the screen and heard the reporter use the phrase, “her past.”
“Go back.”
He glanced at her with concern in his eyes, then hit a button. The screen showed an old, blurry photo of Claire with her ex-husband.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” she muttered. “This is ancient history. He’s all they could dig up about me? Next thing you know, they’ll pull out my seventh-grade school picture. I had a painfully uneven haircut for that one.”
“You know how these go,” Eduardo said. “They don’t have anything newsworthy to run, so they go searching for old information they can make sound new and intriguing.”
“I suppose.”
For over a month, she and Eduardo had stayed the course with the media. They’d agreed to remain silent for the time being and to continue leading their lives, deciding it was the only way they could enjoy their time together and truly get to know each other.
Helena Masciaretti’s new, high-profile relationship had given them the breathing room necessary to accomplish that. There had been shots of Claire entering and leaving La Rocca, and even a few of them strolling through the palace garden that had been taken with a long lens by someone who’d climbed on top of a bus shelter on the Strada il Reggiménto. In each instance, Zeno Amendola and John Oglethorpe had told reporters they had no comment about their bosses’ personal lives. With little to use, the press had—for the most part—run with other stories.
This report, however, felt different, even as the announcer noted that Claire had been married for two years in her early twenties. Her voice promised scandal.
Then she delivered. A photo of her ex that looked current filled the screen. In a voiceover that had sounded prerecorded, the announcer said, “This is David Arnold Smith today.” The shot panned out to reveal that he was holding a board under his face with his name on it.
A curse went through Claire’s mind as the announcer continued, “Last night, Smith was booked into the Santa Clara County Jail in San Jose, California, for public intoxication after leaving a strip club. A friend spoke to one of our reporters about the incident on the condition of anonymity. That friend told us that Smith is not a regular at the strip club, but went there because he and his friends were unable to visit their usual bar.”
The shot cut to the back of a man’s head, partially blurred, as he spoke to a reporter in a parking lot. Behind the reporter, the bottom edge of a flashing neon sign was visible. “Yeah, David’s a good guy. Good guy. He’s like, being stalked because of his ex-wife. It’s just wrong, ya know? The guy can’t even go out with his friends and get a drink without being harassed, all ‘cause of a woman who cheated on him. He’s got a new wife and he has moved on.”
The last two words were louder and slurred.
The screen returned to the booking photo and the original announcer continued, “David Arnold Smith has had a number of run-ins with the law over the years, all for public intoxication. However, his last arrest was nearly five years ago. He is said to blame Claire Peyton for this latest incident. We have reached out to the ambassador’s office for comment, but they have not responded to our request.”
“I expect my phone will ring any minute.” Claire put a hand to her forehead. “This is asinine. I haven’t seen him in well over twenty years. I had no idea he