Page 17

“No, it’s fine. I just wanted to make sure I heard correctly. I’ll be waiting at seven.”

“Very well.”

Rebecca disconnected the call, and Palmer smiled.

“Excuse me,” a woman with a British accent spoke from behind her.

“Oh, sorry,” Palmer replied, turning around to face the woman she’d been eyeing from before. “Am I in your way?”

“No, but I was wondering if you had to leave so soon. I was hoping you might like to have a drink with me.” She smiled in a way that told Palmer she’d definitely done this before.

“I’m afraid I can’t; I’m sorry. I have to get going.”

“Are you here for another night? Maybe we could try again tomorrow.”

“I have plans tomorrow night.” Palmer thought about being polite and telling the woman maybe they could share a drink another time, but decided to leave it at that. “Have a good night.”

???

Palmer had never met a Queen before. She’d been sent a list of instructions from Rebecca, explaining what to do when she did. Women do a small curtsy. Men do a small bow. Shecouldsimply shake the Queen’s hand in the usual way, but that seemed lazy. The correct formal address to use was ‘Your Majesty,’ and after that, she should refer to her as ‘Ma’am.’ She didn’t have to obey the rules, but technically, she shouldn’t sit until the Queen sat. She should walk slightly behind the Queen if they did any walking. That seemed like nonsense, but she’d follow the rules tonight. She needed to secure a real interview, one that could be on the record, to get her the article she longed to write. Palmer was ready to get back home. She wanted to see if Anna had done as she’d asked and left her stuff and her key in her Manhattan studio apartment. She wanted to start moving on with her life.

“Miss Honeycutt,” a man dressed in a black suit and tie asked.

“Yes, that’s me.” She stood up from the chair in the lobby.

“I’m here to take you to meet someone,” he explained, giving her a nod.

“Of course,” she replied, realizing he wasn’t about to announce who she was meeting with in the middle of a crowded hotel lobby.

“Follow me, please,” he requested, glancing around the space, likely to ensure they wouldn’t be followed.

Palmer did. The sliding glass doors parted, opening to the cold night outside. Sure, it was cold in New York this time of year, but she’d never experienced cold like this before. She wrapped her arms around her body, wishing she’d bought an even warmer coat than the one she’d bought when she’d arrived and realized her jacket wasn’t going to cut it in St. Rais as fall turned to winter.

The man opened the door to the black car that was waiting just outside and motioned for her to climb into the vehicle. How was this guy only dressed in a suit? She was already freezing, and she’d been outside for all of nine seconds. Gladly, she climbed into the back seat of the car, seeking warmth more than anything else.

“Is itMissHoneycutt orMrs.Honeycutt,” a voice came from beside her.

Palmer expected to turn to see Rebecca sitting next to her. Instead, she saw a Queen.

“I’m not married,” she replied simply, choosing to answer the question rather than ignore it to ask what was going on. “Your Majesty; I meant that I’m not married, Your Majesty.”

Elizabeth sat next to her as the car took off. It was a town car, and they were completely alone in the closed-off back seat of the vehicle.

“I wanted to make sure I addressed you properly,” the Queen explained.

“AndI, obviously, didn’t do a good job of that,” she said, giving her a shy smile. “I’m sorry. I’ve never met a Queen before.”

“I’ve neverbeenone before,” Elizabeth replied. “And since it’s just us back here, and we’re supposed to be getting to know each other anyway, why don’t you just call me Elizabeth, and I’ll call you Palmer?”

Palmer nodded and said, “I’d like that.”

“Seat belt.” Elizabeth pointed to Palmer’s lap and continued, “I understand you were here as a visitor before you were here as a reporter.”

Palmer didn’t know if she should face forward. Theyweredriving, after all. She buckled up, sat straight, and turned her head toward the Queen.

“I was, yes.”

“Not quite used to our winters, are you?”