Page 64 of The Thing About My Prince
“Wow.” My wonder is real. As is that flutter in my chest. “So that’s what the plans are? To fly you to northern Canada to visit the polar bears?”
Kirsty nods so hard her headscarf shifts, revealing a flash of baldness. She quickly pulls it back into place. “I’ve never been more excited aboot anything in ma life.”
Now it’s my turn to swallow and sniff.
If Oliver’s worried about not making an impact on anything and his existence being worthless, he’s bonkers. This center is only one example of something that might never have raised enough money to even exist if his name hadn’t been at the top of the patrons list.
And now, at a time when he’s worried about making his own living, he’s paying for a polar bear-watching trip to Canada for two complete strangers.
I blow out a short breath and try to gather myself.
“I’m absolutely certain the prince will be delighted to hear that. There’ll be nothing he wants more than for you to enjoy yourselves and have the time of your life.”
My face instantly heats as I realize the clumsiness of those last four words.
“Dunno where we’d be withoot Saint Philomena’s,” Andrew says. “Not since we lost Kirsty’s mam a couple o’ years back.”
Oh dear God. How much suffering can a family endure?
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say to them both. “And while he knows nothing can ever make up for something like that, Iknow for certain that Prince Oliver hopes the trip will put a smile on your faces.”
“Already has.” Andrew rubs his daughter’s back, and she looks up at him with a smile big enough to light up the whole of the Canadian tundra.
“Someone will be in touch to get all your details.” I start to move away. “It was an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
“Tell him thank you again,” Kirsty calls as I head back toward the SUV.
There’s just time to wipe my eyes and my nose before I’m back at the vehicle where Dane is standing outside the rear door.
He opens it for me.
“Ah,” Oliver says from the back seat. “Wondered where you’d got to.”
I climb in next to him and he holds up his phone to face me. “Sofia texted. She hates the shirt I was planning to wear for the wedding.”
Is this, right here, the dichotomy of Oliver’s life?
The frippery of outfit choices for being on public display on the one hand, and trying to do real good for real people on the other?
I’ve been here for only two days and I’m absolutely drained by it.
Do these people earn their place in society after all?
I lean back against the seat with a sigh. “Sure. Let’s go back to the castle and talk about the right clothes to wear for a royal wedding.”
That’s now top of the list of sentences I never thought I’d say. But the way my life’s going lately, I don’t doubt it’ll be knocked off the top spot soon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
OLIVER
CHASE
Autocorrect must have lost its mind, because your last text says you slept with her.
ME
Please don’t ever try to make a comedy movie.
