Page 78 of The Unlikely Heir
He picks it up, turning it over in his hand.
“This thing could’ve taken out someone’s eye,” Mike says.
I nod enthusiastically. “When I worked in insurance, I dealt with claims from aerosol cans exploding. They can start house fires. People don’t realize the cans are pressurized, so they can explode when heated.”
There’s a buzz of noise as conversation breaks out among the guests.
Quinton comes over, white-faced.
“Thank you.” He shakes my hand. “Thank you so much.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, suddenly aware of all the cameras trained on me.
* * *
For once, the British press exaggerating everything works in my favor.
Prince Savior: Prince of Wales Saves Teenager from Maiming
Royal Reflexes: Prince of Wales Deflects Danger
The Fresh Prince of Aerosol: Royal Heir Saves Day
Even the trolls on social media are struggling to find a negative spin on this.
“Well, you’ve definitely got the journalists changing their tune.” Raymond flicks through the headlines as we have afternoon tea in my sitting room.
His mustache has an opinion on it, quirking up like it’s attempting a question mark, as if it can’t quite believe the fickleness of the British media and public.
“Ah…yeah,” I say as I scroll through my phone, smiling at the meme Amelia sent me.
Always be yourself. Unless you can be a superhero. Then always be a superhero.
By habit, I check BritishPatriot’s account, but he’s gone quiet over the past week.
I don’t want to think about that now.
I don’t want to think about that night with Oliver, how he went out of his way to help me, how he listened to me, how he looked at me.
I don’t want to think about how I ruined everything by kissing him.
But here’s the thing. He definitely kissed me back. There’s no way he wasn’t an enthusiastic participant in that kiss.
I just want to talk to him. I want to get things back to what we had before.
Even as I read all the positive coverage, an empty feeling grows inside me because I can’t share this with the one person I most want to talk to.
“Now, I’ve been meaning to discuss something with you,” Raymond says.
I look up at him, and my gaze snags on the way his mustache is twitching. Whatever Raymond wants to talk about obviously makes him uncomfortable.
“Now, as you know, one of your most important jobs is to provide an heir,” he continues briskly.
I splutter on my mouthful of tea.
“An heir?” I ask.
“Yes. Now that you’ve settled into life in England, it’s time to consider going on some dates. A royal romance is exactly what we need to keep the papers distracted from everything else.”
