Page 31 of Trained Royal

Patrick paused. “No, I think I’m good, thank you.”

He headed for George’s rooms while he called Henry. “Are you bothering your man again, Henry?” he said when his brother answered.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘bothering,’ but potentially, yes.”

“Well, get your ass to Windsor. I’m in need of assistance.” He hung up, leaving Henry sputtering. Knocking on George’s door received a call for him to enter, and he grinned when he found the man lying on the sofa with a pile of sweet wrappers on the table beside him. “Have you had enough of those yet?” he asked, sitting on the sofa opposite.

“I can never have enough,” George said, throwing another wrapper onto the pile and pressing a few buttons on the laptop resting on his lap before swinging his legs off the sofa and sitting upright. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

“I’m impatient for the meeting tonight because I also have some news to share. Do you fancy helping me waste the afternoon? Henry’s on his way.”

George grinned. “Sure! Any plans?”

“No.”

The three of them ended up spending five hours playing board games, card games and watching films until the rest of the group turned up.

Freddie grinned at them, though there seemed to be extra lines on his face. “Shall we have dinner first, then we can get to the nitty-gritty stuff?”

The Tantalising Twelve headed for the dining room and ate their fill before relocating to Freddie’s rooms.

“George tells me you have news to share, Paddy. Do you want to do that first?” Freddie said, settling beside Damon on the slightly more uncomfortable sofas than what George had.

“I got fired.” He grinned at their shocked faces.

“What?”

“Why?”

“Your father fired you?”

He nodded and repeated his conversation with his father. “It means I need to find a job. Preferably, one I like this time.”

“As you like music so much, why not something to do with that?” Damon said, pointing out the obvious choice.

“Do you want a job you can just walk into, or are you willing to work towards it?” Timothy asked from his perch between his two men.

Patrick sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m willing to work for it. I just don’t know what I want to do.”

Timothy scratched his jaw. “Going the music route, you have plenty of options, depending on what you enjoy doing. A musician, fairly self-explanatory. A composer, a music director, a teacher. Even a conductor.”

“A conductor?” Patrick said.

Timothy nodded. “You’ll oversee different areas of whichever musical ensemble you choose to direct.”

“How do you know this much about it?” Eddie asked, poking the man in the side.

Timothy twisted away with a chuckle. “One of my students asked about it a few weeks back. We’ve been looking into it.”

“But you deal with psychology,” Henry said.

Timothy nodded. “I do, but sometimes, students feel comfortable with one specific teacher, and when that happens, you do whatever you need to.”

George pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling. “You always go the extra mile.”

The conversation continued, but Patrick got lost in his thoughts as an idea grew. It would be a few years in the making, but it might work.

“Patrick?” He blinked at Kean and found Henry’s best friend staring at him in concern. “Everything okay?”