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Outside, I found a quiet spot against the wall and answered my boss. “Thank fuck. A rational person.”
Ben chuffed a laugh. “Ye haven’t found much of that there?”
“Understatement of the year.”
“Talk to me.”
In a rapid list, I gave him my thoughts, ending with, “If your friend, Barrington, wants a kidnapping on his hands, he’s close to getting his wish. Their setup is the sloppiest shite I can imagine.”
“He messaged me an hour ago with feedback. His team lead, Jared, took credit for a good evening’s work, and advised Barry that his training enabled ye to act quickly when the photographer launched at your subject.”
My mouth fell open in incredulity. “He has to be fucking kidding. Jared told me nothing. He didn’t even stop when that happened.”
“Yet took all the credit. Aye, he did. But there’s more. Have ye checked the headlines tonight?”
I frowned. “No. Was it reported?”
My phone vibrated with a link Ben had forwarded me from a gossip site. I opened it. The headline screamed: ‘Sexy Lexi’s Eye for Naked Ladies’ and was accompanied by a shot of one of the portraits displayed in the gallery, the princess nearby. The article went into detail about how Alex had been enamoured with that specific painting and how that meant she had a kinkier side than the newspaper had guessed at.
I growled frustration. “That is gross.”
“What’s interesting to me is how unbothered Barry was. If this was Leo, his publicist would be up in arms.”
I knew that to be true. Leo weathered an enormous amount of publicity. Rumours of the breakup of his marriage werefrequently touted because it made money for the sites that gossip-seekers visited. The fact he and Viola were the perfect couple with two sons and a wonderful life together meant nothing.
“Ye can’t stop them talking shite but ye can keep them away so they can’t get the shot,” Ben grumbled.
I closed the article. “The whole event was a shitshow. I’m gutted that I didn’t see the guy taking pictures of her inside the place.”
My brain refreshed the scene. It had to be the man who’d grabbed Alexandra. He was a chancer paparazzo who’d got onto the guest list somehow, and the phone in her face outside was his last-ditch attempt to get a reaction. We absolutely should’ve taken his details. There was nothing stopping the arsehole from trolling her next event as he clearly had access.
I scanned the article again then asked a question of my boss. “How can I get hold of the photographer’s name? The article didn’t have an author or any credits.”
He clucked his tongue. “Leave it with me.” A pause followed. “You’re only there a few days, but why do I get the impression you’re going to turn that team on its head?”
I didn’t have the right. Jared wouldn’t listen to me, and a glance through the window showed me the two boozy bodyguards who I suspected wouldn’t give a damn. Barrington might, though. Riss was another possibility. All I knew was I couldn’t ignore the gaping holes in the protection they provided.
I said goodbye to my boss with a promise to catch up the following day. The tightness in my chest still hadn’t gone. If a wannabe journalist or photographer was able to get as close to Alexandra as the man had today, a stalker or someone who meant her harm had equal chance.
It couldn’t be allowed. I had to do something about it, even if they didn’t like it.
Another message landed, this time from my best friend and in our team’s group chat.
Jackson: What do bodyguards and testicles have in common?
I thumbed a reply of a sobbing emoji because his jokes were the worst, just as another of our team answered.
Valentine: They’re ugly and hairy?
Valentine: WAIT, they come in pairs? Tell me I’ve got this right.
Jackson: They’re always behind a big dick. I actually like your answers better.
Without planning it, I dialled my friend. Jackson and I had gone to Edinburgh Uni together. He knew a little of my history with the princess but not the full story.
Jackson picked up immediately. “Miss me that much, huh? It’s been one day.”
I sighed. “Maybe a bit. I…just needed to run something by ye.”