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“Perhaps I will have my sister call you, and she can advise you,” I say, considering the matter settled.
And yet, Hailey murmurs to herself as she gazes out the window. “You have no idea why that makes me uncomfortable, do you? I will not trouble a princess to ask what I should wear. I know I sound like a whiny baby, but I’m nervous.”
I reach over and clasp her hand in mine. These things are quickly settled with a few phone calls. It truly won’t be an issue, but at the same time, I strive to be a better listener.
As the car makes its way around the bend, though, another massive problem awaits us that won’t be solved with a text, phone call, or a conversation over a glass of wine.
23
Hailey
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m sweating the small stuff when none of that is urgent now.
“I think I’m getting overwhelmed at the suddenness of it all,” I say. “And all the practicalities. You’ll have to go home without me at some point to make all the arrangements while I tie up loose ends. It’s a lot to think about, and I need to calm down and give myself room to breathe,” I say. “When I—”
Torben’s expression is suddenly fierce as we round the bend to the hotel, and my train of thought stops short.
“Torben?”
He doesn’t answer but grips the wheel as he lets up on the gas.
“Torben, what’s wrong?”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Your debut is coming a lot sooner than expected.”
I follow his gaze, and at first, I see a lot of cars and a queue of people lined up for a late dinner at the Thistle Rock.
But as we approach, I see it’s not that. It’s not a line. It’s a horde of people crowded together behind a velvet rope in a U-shape, out of the way of the main entrance. To the left, lining the curb and blocking the valet area, is a line of news trucks.
“What the heck?” I ask.
The concierge is speaking to people clustered behind the rope, his hands gesticulating as he appears to be giving instructions and answering questions.
“Oh no,” I say when the realization hits me. “Torben. They aren’t here for us, are they?”
His expression tells me that they are indeed here for us. Whoever they are—everyday people with phones, legit members of the media, paparazzi, and curious hotel guests who have wandered over to see what’s happening.
“We can’t stay here tonight,” he announces. “Even if the concierge can get us in a back way, the word is out. The palace will know where I am. Palace security will have tracked me down.”
We idle on the shoulder of the winding driveway while Torben decides what to do.
“We can always go back to the holler. Mom will be glad to play hostess until it’s time for…for you to go.” I kick myself as the words catch in my throat because I know that whatever is happening here means that Torben cannot stay here in West Virginia until the end of the month.
He gives me a tight nod. “I don’t want to impose on your family, but perhaps that would be best. That will give you and your brother more time to hash things out, as you say. The sooner, the better.”
Oh, Torben. He really has no idea how deep the shit goes with my brother. But maybe it will be easier with the prince’s calming presence by my side.
“Let’s do it,” I say.
He nods, then steps on the gas and cranks the wheel, and my anxiety settles. No one has spotted us yet. We can hide up in the hills for as long as we need to. We can repeat today, which was fantastic other than the arguments with Toad.
But the second we’re headed back down the mountain, we are stopped short by two black SUVs blocking the roadway.
The car screeches to a halt. Just when he’s starting to learn how to drive like a sane person, too.
“What’s going on? Who’s in there?” I exclaim.
A door opens on each vehicle, and out step two of the biggest Viking types I’ve ever seen.
