Page 21 of The Thing About My Prince

But since Oliver clearly won’t be waiting for me there now, I need to figure out what to do when I get there.

The driver looks experienced and wise. I’ll try him.

“My first time on a private plane,” I say, in a super girly voice. “So excited. Have you driven many people to the private jet part of the airport before?”

“A few over the years, yes. Took that actor guy who has the gin company once. A woman billionaire from Australia who makes collectible cars—she was fascinating. An exiledEastern European princess, very quiet woman. Oh, and what’s that guy’s name, the one who?—”

“Is it all glamorous, like in the movies?” I do an exaggerated hair toss. “Like, do you drive right up to the plane, hop out of the car, and run up the stairs?”

“At some airports you can. Teterboro doesn’t allow it,” he says. “You have to go inside the terminal. And if you’re flying international, StellarVantage has you pass through security. But it’s not a long, slow line like for us regular folks.” He winks at me in the rearview mirror.

“That’s great. I’ve been stressing all day about maybe doing something wrong and embarrassing myself.”

“Just act like you belong,” he says. “Plenty of people get through life with zero skills by doing exactly that.”

“Yup. Met a few of them in my time.” Have I ever. And one of them is sitting on a plane I need to be on.

My phone beeps with an email. My mom’s reply to the message I sent her last night about me going on this trip and casually mentioning that the press love to make shit up about Prince Oliver so she shouldn’t believe anything she reads.

Sounds very exciting! Hope you have a lovely time. Send us some pics! About to head to work. Last night was hell. Might have hurt my back flipping a mattress. And we had a resident pass away. Take care, sweetie. Love you.

Mom’s worked nights at a care facility my whole life. She took that shift so she’d be around to do the school runs for me and my brother. When we were old enough to go alone, she stayed on nights, saying she was used to it and the extra money was nice. But living life upside-down takes its toll, and she looks permanently tired, even though she says she isn’t. Dad always taught at private schools, but even that higher salary’s never going to make them millionaires.

I drop back in the seat and try to relax for the rest of the ride.

But it’s tricky because it suddenly occurs to me that Oliver might have had me removed from the passenger list and I won’t be able to get through security without going all Black Widow.

My heart’s beating so hard the woman behind the front desk of the private terminal can probably see it through my jacket.

She’s had my passport in her hand and been looking at her screen for way longer than I think she would if I were still on the list.

What happens if I’m not? Do I get arrested? Dragged to a holding cell? Jesus, this whole rich and powerful world is one giant fucked-up mess I do not understand. Or belong in.

“There you go, Miss Lane.” Her pink lipstick forms a broad and well-practiced smile as she holds out my passport. “Larry over there will x-ray your bags for you. Walk through the scanner next to it, and you’re all set.”

My hand visibly shakes as I take back my passport. I was still on the list.

Phew.

Guess you can always rely on male lack of thought when it comes to dealing with the finer details of admin.

“Thank you.” I clutch my passport to my chest.

“Larry will help you onboard too,” she adds.

Oh God, no. I do not need an airport official helping me to board something I’m not supposed to be boarding.

“Which plane is it?” I ask.

“The one on the left.” She points through the large wall of glass. “With the steps lowered.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Don’t forget to help yourself to drinks and snacks fromthe bar at the end.” She leans forward over the desk as if sharing a deep secret. “The coconut butter cookies are to die for.”

“Thank you.” There is no chance of my stomach keeping down cookies or any other form of food right now.

After Larry has put what are probably the first non-designer bags he’s ever handled through the x-ray machine, he meets me on the other side of the scanner.