Page 7 of The Unlikely Heir

Callum

When you find yourself on a private royal jet in midair over the Atlantic, it’s a good sign your life has taken a slightly surreal twist.

I fidget in the leather seat, running my hand along the armrest. It’s not made of plastic like every other type of armrest on a plane I’ve ever encountered. No, this one is made of some kind of wood that’s so highly polished I can make out my blurry reflection. Even smudged, my reflection looks startled.

“Would you like something else to drink, Your Royal Highness?” a flight attendant offers.

I blink a few times at the sound of my title before I reply. “No, I’m good.”

Although one part of me is tempted to see what alcohol they have onboard, I’m pretty sure adding inebriation to this current situation won’t help in any way.

“Something to eat then? The chef can cook you whatever you wish.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “There’s a chef on board? On a plane?”

His polite gaze doesn’t waver under the weight of my uncertainty. “Yes. There’s a chef on the plane. He can cook you anything you would like to eat.”

Oh, right. While it’s tempting to check out the cooking skills of an airplane chef, like with the alcohol, I’m not certain the addition of food to my currently churning stomach would be a good scenario for anyone.

“I’m okay for now, thanks.”

Across the aisle, Spencer frantically types into his phone. I guess he’s preparing for what’s happening when we land. I have no idea what’s going on. I’ve been pretty much in a state of bewildered shock since Spencer confirmed I am now heir to the throne.

After he said the words, I’d glanced at Emily just to confirm it wasn’t a hallucination brought on by extreme date stress. But from how wide her mouth had dropped open as she stared at Spencer, it’d been apparent that he definitely wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

“Um…it looks like I have to go,” I’d said, scraping my chair back. “And…uh…yeah…you might have to send the dry-cleaning bill to Buckingham Palace. Anyway, it was nice to meet you. I’ll grab the check on the way out.”

Being eleventh in line to the British throne has always just been a fun random fact about me—like the fact that my thumbs are double-jointed—that I’ve occasionally thrown out at parties to impress people. Honestly, my double-jointed thumbs have been more of a crowd-pleaser because people actuallybelievethat one.

It doesn’t help that half the royal succession sites on Google overlook my existence. Once you get past the tenth in line, people tend to lose interest in doing proper research. After all, what are the chances that all the people ahead of you will suddenly have to step aside?

Higher than you’d think, as it turns out.

Once I was safely inside Spencer’s car, I’d had a quick conversation with my grandmother, the queen, who’d filled in some of the details of what was going on with the arrests and requested I come to London as soon as possible so she could talk to me face-to-face.

Spencer had driven me to my apartment, where I’d hastily thrown some clothes into my worn duffel bag, and then he’d taken me straight to the airport to board the private plane for the eleven-hour flight to London.

Now, seeing Spencer busy on his phone, I suddenly think about all the logistics I should be sorting.

First, I need to call my boss because I’m supposed to be at work in half an hour.

Luckily, I get straight through to her on her direct line.

“Hi, Becca. It’s Callum. Sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make it in to work today,” I say.

Becca lets out a long-suffering sigh. “We’re short-staffed as it is, Callum. You know that. You better have a decent excuse.”

“I’m on my way to England because I’m now heir to the British throne,” I offer.

There’s a momentary pause. “Very funny, Callum. If you’re not here by nine a.m., you better have a doctor’s note.”

The dial tone sounds in my ear.

Well, that went well.

I turn my attention to a message I’ve just received from Scott on the group chat with him, Cliff, and me. Knowing Scott, he’s just waking up and wanting some fun. Sure enough, it looks like he’s decided his entertainment of choice is another installment in the seriesCallum’s Disastrous Dates.

So, how did your date go last night???