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“But you will anyway,” Jameson muttered.
“—the incident where the press breached the campus.”
Jameson’s hand clenched into a fist, thinking back to the moment when he’d accidentally bumped into a student crossing thequad only to discover it was a paparazzo, looking for a comment about Jameson’s newly increased royal responsibilities... and the scandal surrounding his father’s death.
When he’d initially been hired, the press had practically salivated at the thought of a young royal teaching at uni. How would all those young, impressionable female students deal with having Sexy Wexy in their midst? But when no titillating tidbits managed to escape, they gave up. And thus, a tentative unspoken agreement formed: as long as he stayed out of the spotlight, save only his attendance at the required family events, they’d leave him alone. But as Rhys had helpfully pointed out, when Jameson had “agreed” to be the face of the royal tribute, the press had taken that as a signal that the tentative truce was broken.
No one had been brazen enough to breach the campus before, but once word got out that it had been achieved, more were sure to follow.
Jameson sighed. “That’s essentially what the committee said.”
“You could fight it.”
As a permanent lecturer, Jameson could only lose his post due to an unwillingness to perform his duties, gross misconduct, or redundancy. And though he knew he could argue his innocence on all counts—
“No, I can’t.”
“You couldn’t,” Rhys agreed. “Especially if you want to reduce your media footprint.”
The headlines generated by his filing a lawsuit would make him look like a spoiled prince in the best scenarios and like an entitled prick in the worst. Based on that alone, even if he wanted to challenge the dismissal, the queen wouldn’t allow it.
The university knew it, too.
“Did they mention Dani?” Rhys asked.
Then there had beenthatlittle nugget...
“Your involvement with this vulgar American rapper... What are we supposed to say to the parents who call and inquire about the appropriateness of the lecturers on staff?”
A red mist of rage had clouded his vision. How dare they judge Dani without knowing her?
“Her performances are what she does for a living, not who she is. But of course, that was beyond their comprehension. They’ve spent their entire lives in academia. They are what they do.”
Rhys pointed at him. “You know this is really jokes coming from you.”
“Oh, sod off.” Jameson exhaled and sat up, bracing his elbows on his desk.
“What are you going to do now?”
Jameson fiddled with a pen. “Find another lecture position.”
“Where exactly? The higher-ups may have been right prats about it, but their concerns are valid.”
“Not for long. With the royal tribute over and the palace’s announcement about Fiona’s pregnancy receiving front-page treatment, I have no need to be the family’s representative again.”
“But you’re still with Dani.”
Forever, his brain and heart emphatically stated.
“So?”
“She’s one of the hottest celebrities on the planet right now, thanks in part to your relationship. If you’re going to be together, you have to expect the press attention will be intense. Everywhere. Do you see another university wanting to put up with that?”
“It’ll only be intense if Dani and I feed into it. We’ve already decided to keep our relationship separate from our work lives. If we’re not showing up at celebrity events or royal functions, the interest will diminish.”
Rhys shook his head. “That won’t make the problem go away. There are many reasons why the two of you will always be news.”
“I know. Me being royalty, her being a rapper. Me being British, her being American. Me being white, her being Black. Believe me, I get it.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “If I fail to find a position here, I guess it’s time.”
