Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
I poured the tomato sauce over the two dough rounds laid out on the table while Felix sliced the mozzarella. “I know some think the maker is a mystery even though it was credited early on to da Lodi.”
Felix looked up at me in surprise. “Shit. You really are a history buff.”
I shrugged. “That’s about all I know. Well, I know where most of the hidden glass is, only because I’ve spent so much time here.”
I thought about telling Felix the truth of who I was. There was something about the new closeness we’d begun in his apartment earlier that made me feel like I was lying to him now. Every moment I withheld the truth from him felt like a kind of nasty betrayal.
After we finished adding toppings to the two pizzas, I showed Felix how to use the pizza peel to slide them into the oven.
While we waited for them to cook, I found us some bottled beer and sat down at the large table next to Felix. Mari had left a stack of mail and magazines on the table, and Felix pulled a copy of GOTCHA! Magazine from the stack. On the cover was a photo of my parents coming out of the hospital with the headline “Is the King of Liorland hiding a terminal illness?” emblazoned across the photo. Even though it was an old shot taken after they’d visited sick kids as part of some charity work, I felt my gut clench. Those kinds of covers and articles were nothing new, but I realized now might be as good a time as any to tell him who I was.
“Felix, I—”
“This is absolute shit,” Felix spat. “This poor family is dealing with a health scare, and the fucking tabloid press turns it into a circus.”
I watched him to see if any part of what he was saying was insincere. He seemed really upset. He began leafing through the magazine for more information.
“It says here that the king claims it was only a panic attack, and yet the reporter is convinced it’s all some big cover-up. He even goes on to say this panic attack was brought on by some secret shit going on in the king’s personal life. As if anything going on in the man’s personal life is any of our business.”
“You’re right. It’s not,” I agreed. “I’m glad to hear you say that because—”
Felix looked up at me, and I noticed his eyes were full of tears. The sight caught me completely off guard.
“Felix? What’s wrong? Why is this upsetting you so much? It’s a tabloid. This is what they do.” I reached out to pull the magazine away and bury it under the stack of mail before pulling him into my arms.
“What if they have kids, Lio?” he asked with a sniff. “That’s not fair to those kids. Being dragged through the press like that. What if there’s a story there and the press gets a hold of it? What would it do to their kids? It’s not like anyone asks to be born into royalty.”
I wondered if he knew who I was and that’s why he was taking this so hard. Was it possible?
“They do have kids,” I said quietly. “But maybe their kids are used to it by now.”
Felix pulled back and looked at me with a lifetime’s worth of anguish on his face. “They can’t possibly be, Lio. You don’t ever get used to it. It’s impossible.”
My heart slowed to a crawl as I realized he was speaking from personal experience. I brushed the hair from his face and placed a kiss on his forehead.
“Tell me,” I said.
He turned away and began to fiddle with the corner of an envelope on the top of the mail stack, flicking it with his thumbnail back and forth with a ticktick sound.
“My mom is an actress.”
I thought about what he’d already told me about his personal life. He was raised by his grandfathers and didn’t know his dad. Suddenly, I recalled that his mom hadn’t wanted a child to hold back her career.
As an actress.
There was only one actress I could think of with the last name Wilde. Jacqueline Wilde. The age would fit with being Felix’s mother, especially if she was young when she’d gotten pregnant. Jacqueline Wilde was the Sharon Stone of our generation. She was known for being beautiful but ruthless—a power player in Hollywood. Despite a now highly publicized early career in porn, she’d wound up earning hundreds of accolades including Golden Globes and an Oscar nomination.
“Stop staring at me,” Felix said in a small voice.
“You look just like her,” I couldn’t help but say. “I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together.”
He rolled his eyes in disgust and began to stand up. I pulled him back down and tucked him against my chest.