His Royal Favorite Read Online Free PDF

say.”
    She sighed. “Very well.” She turned on the audio recorder and took up her laptop. “We need to put together a list of every man you’ve ever slept with.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Every man you’ve ever had sex with, however you would personally define sex—though for these purposes, that definition should be expansive rather than restrictive. Women, too, if there have been any.”
    “Is this necessary?”
    “I need a list of people who could conceivably sell something true to the tabloids. You’ll have any number of fakers coming out of the woodwork; there’s nothing I can do about them except make it clear they’re liars when the time comes. The real ones, we should be prepared for. Don’t worry—I’ll delete the recording once I no longer need it for reference, most likely within twenty-four hours.”
    Ben took a deep breath. He reminded himself that this was for James. And he started to talk.
    It wasn’t exactly a short list, but there weren’t
that
many for a gay man his age, especially one who used to enjoy the clubs. He’d usually gone clubbing with one of his many short-term boyfriends, indulging in only a handful of one-night stands. A couple of those he had to guess on the names for, which was embarrassing, but Ms. Tseng shrugged it off. “If you don’t remember them, hopefully they won’t remember you,” she said, which wasn’t as comforting as she seemed to think. Ben went in reverse order, saving Warner for last and giving no particular detail beyond the facts Ms. Tseng wanted—cities of residence, last known profession.
    “All right,” she said. “Do any of these men have pictures or video of you naked or involved in sexual activity?”
    “What?”
    “Many couples create such images as a normal part of a sexual relationship,” she said, as if he’d just hatched from an egg this morning. “After breakups, however, these images can be misused, and in this case, they could be sold for a price tag I would conservatively estimate in the mid-six figures.”
    That was daunting, but Ben was able to shake his head. “No. There’s nothing like that out there.”
    “What about . . .” She hesitated then, and he saw the slightest flush of color in her cheeks. “Has there ever been any, ah, drag, or elaborate costuming, that sort of thing? Leather gear?”
    At least some parts of this were hilarious. Ben stifled a smile. “When I was young and going to the clubs, I wore eyeliner. Tight clothes, et cetera. But nothing more embarrassing than the average person’s college pictures.”
    “What is your HIV status?”
    “I’m negative.” He’d always played it safe. Younger guys today took risks he found shocking. Ben had come of age in the 1990s, when every facet of the gay experience had been wrapped in latex; those were habits he’d never change.
    Ms. Tseng nodded. “Can you verify that?”
    “I had bloodwork done as part of a routine health screen when I transferred to London in late August. So, yes.”
    “Nothing since then?”
    “No bloodwork. And no, ah, no other possibilities for infection. James and I have been exclusive since Kenya.”
    She didn’t pause in her typing, but Ben knew she’d caught his slip and was now aware they’d been lovers from the very start. Well, at this rate, she’d soon know everything else. Why not this too? “You should undergo a second test immediately,” she said. “So we can verify your negative status absolutely when the media asks.”
    Would they ask that? Yes, they would. “Fine.”
    He took Ms. Tseng through his studies, reviewing every scholarship he could remember, his work-study experience, even his GPA, which he had never expected to mention again. She wanted every single one of his addresses, which was impossible; Ben had moved so often that he couldn’t remember them all, not even the ones that hadn’t boiled down to “my tent, Thailand.” But he gave her all the ones he could remember. They went over his