A jolt of panic swept through me as I remembered my friend Maggie’s bachelorette party in Las Vegas three months earlier and the small container of weed gummies I had tossed into one of my suitcase pockets and promptly forgotten. Where they still in there? They must have spotted them, and I was about to kick off my time here in Wexstone with a visit to jail.Fuck.
I breathed in deeply through my nose, willing myself to stay calm.
“Miss, we need to take a look in your suitcase. We spotted something unusual on our scanners.” My vision narrowed as gloved hands unzipped the suitcase from the Vegas weekend. This was it. I was glad I had committed Sam’s phone number to memory for my one phone call from jail.
The customs officer rifled through the suitcase. Through my panic, I heard him say, “Ah.” He straightened, awkwardly holding up a black silicone vibrator.
My panic immediately turned to embarrassment. In addition to forgetting about the edibles, which I was now wishing they had found instead, I had also forgotten about the “prize” I had won at Maggie’s party by getting the most phone numbers over the course of the weekend.
“Our apologies, miss. We saw a, uh…a dark mass on the scanners and needed to check it out,” the officer said, quickly setting the vibrator back in the suitcase and zipping it up. “You are cleared and can head on your way.”
My face was still beet red as I took the suitcase. I was vaguely aware of whispers around me. I glanced over my shoulder to see several college-aged girls snapping photos on their phones before being reprimanded by an officer for using the devices.
Shit, shit, shit.
I quickly wheeled my bags down the short hallway and out a set of automatic doors and spotted Vince waiting for me, his hands in his coat pockets.
“Birdie! Welcome to Wexstone. How was your flight?” he asked as he kissed my cheek in greeting.
“Uh. Fine?” I responded, still flustered.
Vince grabbed my two suitcases, giving me a quizzical look as he led me to a sleek black SUV.
“Care to expand?” he asked.
I blushed again. I wasn’t eager to recount the experience to anyone besides Sam—I could already hear her howling with laughter—but Vince was my sponsor for the contest, and I knew that any bad press would reflect on him. He had been too kind to hide this from him, especially if those photos made it online.
I buckled myself into the front seat as Vince settled in behind the wheel—I noticed that they drove on the right side of the road here—and I sheepishly told him what had happened.
Vince threw back his head, his deep laughter filling the car. He reached up and wiped his eyes as he continued howling.
“Are youcryingright now?!” I whacked his upper arm in a sisterly manner. He nodded, tears of mirth streaming down his face. My embarrassment ebbed and I started chuckling in spiteof myself. Soon we were both doubled over, gasping for breath as our laughter subsided.
“Okay, so I guess you aren’t mad,” I said, relieved.
“No,” he answered as he started the car. “First of all, cannabis has been legal here since the beginning of the year. Second, don’t worry about the girls with the photos. Chances are good that the customs officers confiscated their phones after they saw them taking pictures. But no one knows who you are and why you are here yet, and if they do end up online, we’ll handle it. Besides, it might do this country some good to remember that royals are humans with needs, too,” he said with one of his charming winks.
I hit him in the arm again. “Great, thanks. So reassuring.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I hope you don’t mind a busy time.” His grin widened as he drove.
“I’m ready,” I said. I had to be.
“We’ll head to my family manor. Tonight we’ll get you settled in and cleaned up, make sure you’re up to speed on what you need to know about Wexstone, maybe a bit of media training, and tomorrow night will kick off the introduction gala.” He reached into his jacket and handed me a piece of paper. I unfolded it to find an itinerary of the next several weeks.
“You weren’t lying when you implied we’d hit the ground running, huh?”
“At a full sprint. Love can’t wait!” He smiled from ear to ear.
An amiable silence settled over us as we drove through the capital city of Altborn. Colorful old buildings lined the cobblestone streets, standing out against the bright white of the snow covering the ground. On each street corner, street signs were hung above winter wreaths on antique-looking lampposts. The Hallmark Channel had nothing on this place.
After winding through the quaint city, I was captivated by the beauty of the quiet countryside. Fresh powdery snow covered the rolling hills, and in the distance, I could make out picturesque mountain peaks covered with lush pine trees. I cracked my window, and the smell of pine and snow flooded the SUV. It was breathtaking.
As we turned into a long drive, Vince buzzed through an ornate wrought-iron gate leading to an immaculate manor. I could tell that in the spring the gray stone walls would be covered in ivy and imagined that the sizable fountain out front must be magnificent when the weather was warm.
“Here we are,” Vince announced.
“Thisis your house?” It was a far cry from the split-level I had grown up in in Michigan.
