Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
EMMA
Despite a very long conversation with her mother about why this was an insane idea, Emma had somehow agreed to get on a plane.
Now she was bleary-eyed and sandwiched in a middle seat between a businessman drowned in cologne and Cooper, who she had insisted on bringing along in a last-ditch effort to avoid going.
But apparently the royal family had no problem with pulling strings to arrange red-eye airfare for gigantic canine companions.
Maya, meanwhile, was just visible taking selfies behind the curtain that separated first class. They were somewhere over the Alps, preparing to touch down in Spain, then they’d travel by chauffer to a country that until yesterday she wouldn’t have been able to find on a map.
Emma had never been a spontaneous person, so jetting off to a foreign country with twelve hours’ notice had felt like being kicked out of an airplane with a partially assembled parachute.
She had dipped into her savings to grocery shop and frantically prepare freezer meals for her mom, so there had been no time to research.
She didn’t know what the primary language was in Lynoria or if the SIM card she had picked up in the airport would actually work.
She knew nothing about the royal family beyond the princess who liked their espresso croissant.
Every part of this trip was giving her anxiety, but it had the potential to change the trajectory of her entire life.
According to the terms the royal family had sent over, half of their pay would be sent before, and the other half would be given after they assembled their dessert. She had checked her bank account before takeoff and saw a pending wire for over $12,000, so some part of this was real.
The stakes were almost insanely high. Baking for one of the Kardashians had been stressful enough, but this was royalty. In an unfamiliar kitchen. In a country that might not even speak English.
But if she could pull it off, everything would change. Gone would be the days of Maya taking endless advantage of her—claiming credit for her baked goods, using her for their social media, shifting the responsibility of running the entire business to her while paying her a pittance.
She would have control over her schedule, the ability to bring her mom along to keep an eye on her, the freedom to take on only the projects she wanted.
Her next step was closer than ever, and she could have it if she could just make it through this trip.
A better life was within her grasp, and it was as subtly sweet as her legendary buttercream.
The plane shifted, signaling their descent.
Emma leaned around Cooper’s floof and peered out the window.
A dreamy blanket of snow covered the land.
A city was in the distance. Patchwork farms bumped up against rolling hills and rocky mountains.
Lights dotted the mountainside, marking ski slopes.
It was a pity it wasn’t a Mediterranean climate, but at least it would still feel like Christmas.
Her heart ached. Even though they were on a shoestring budget these days, they always found a way to make the holiday season magical.
She was missing their most treasured tradition—Decoration Day.
Lisa promised that they could celebrate from afar, but Emma’s ability to stick to the schedule was going to be limited.
The worst part was having no way of knowing how many more Decembers she would have with her mom.
At baggage claim, Emma’s phone rang. Oh good, at least the new SIM card was working.
She looped her wrist through Cooper’s leash and answered without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”
“I can’t believe you’re in freakin’ Europe right now. What alternate universe have we stumbled into?”
Warmth spread through Emma’s body at the sound of Lola’s voice. They had been best friends since elementary school, and even though Lola had gotten married and moved to Chicago, they still talked every day.
“I know, right? I’m still pretty sure that we’re going to show up at the castle and they’ll have no idea who we are. But at least it got me out of the 5 a.m. shift for a day or two.”
“Great point. How’s your mom?” Lola asked.
“She claims she’s fine. Our neighbor agreed to take her to her appointments this week and next. But I’m going to check the nanny cams the second I get connected to Wi-Fi.”
“She’ll be fine,” Lola said. “She’s not going to take risks while you’re gone.”
“Have you met my mother?”
“You have a point.”
Emma glanced around the airport. It was a good thing she had taken Spanish in high school. At least she could find the bathroom. “How are things? Writing any interesting proposals this week?”
“It’s festive as fuck out here,” Lola said over the wind whistling in the background. “I can’t walk more than three feet without getting brained by tinsel.”
Emma snorted. Lola was six foot two and regularly struggled with things five-foot-two Emma had never experienced.
“But anyway, I’m working with a nonprofit to secure some funding for renovations to the playground in Humboldt Park.”
“You’re such a badass,” Emma said as she hefted her bag off the conveyor belt.
“Me? What about you? You were personally selected by a royal freakin’ family to fly to Europe and make a dessert for their anniversary party. That’s insane. Whose life are you living right now?”
“They personally selected Maya,” she clarified in a low voice.
“And of course the she-beast couldn’t do jack shit without you,” Lola said.
“Mm-hmm.” Emma spotted Maya in line at the airport Starbucks. A prickle of irritation grew. A driver was waiting for them somewhere, and something told her the queen of Lynoria did not enjoy being kept waiting. “I better go. I have to corral Maya.”
Lola snorted. “Your work is going to be cut out for you this trip. I looked up the royal family. Two princes, one princess. None of them are married. She’s going to plant her lips on the eldest brother’s ass the second you arrive in that castle.”
“Well, at least she’ll be out of my hair. Tell Mateo I said hi, okay? Love you tons.”
Emma hung up, straightened her shoulders, and clicked her tongue to make Cooper fall in line. He followed her over to Maya.
“We have to go. I think that person’s here for us.” She gestured to the baggage claim area, where a man in an impressive uniform held a sign that read “Farrell & Clark.”
“Not without an iced matcha latte,” Maya said without looking up from her phone.
Emma tutted and walked over to the person holding the sign. Maybe she could convince the driver to leave without Maya.
“Miss Farrell?”
“Clark. Emma Clark.” She reached over and shook the driver’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
He seemed surprised by the question and nearly dropped his sign. “Walter, madam. We’re delighted to have you. Will Miss Farrell be joining us, or did she fly separately?”
“Oh, she’s here.” A prickle of irritation crawled up Emma’s spine. If they got fired because they kept the queen waiting, she was going to throw Maya’s phone in a storm drain.
She fought the urge to clap at Maya the way she clapped at Cooper when he was taking too long to poop.
Cooper accepted redirection, but Maya believed there was no word higher than hers.
Actually, she probably would make a great queen.
Maybe the eldest prince would take Maya off their hands for good.
Maya finally strolled over with a violently green beverage and pushed her bag at the driver. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Cooper rode shotgun. Emma’s head was on a swivel as they drove through Spain and entered Avolis, which, according to the driver, was Lynoria’s capital city.
City workers atop ladders hung wreaths on lampposts.
Storefronts frosted with fake snow glowed with multicolored lights and displays of miniature trees.
It wasn’t exactly the jaw-dropping glamour of the tree atop Radio City Music Hall or the incomparable magic of Hudson Yards, but it was charmingly festive nonetheless.
Restaurants of all kinds lined the streets. A tantalizing mix of smells invaded and left the car like spirits. It felt a little bit like New York, but cleaner and smaller.
They left the city behind and drove through deep woods before emerging onto narrow cobblestone streets.
“This is Hollybrook,” their driver reported.
The sun was cresting the mountain to their left, casting golden rays over the idyllic hamlet.
A lake shrouded in mist sat to their right.
Someone was carrying a reindeer on the roof of what looked to be a municipal building.
Christmas lights sparkled on the snow-dusted roofs of Tudor-style cottages.
It was a Thomas Kincaid painting come to life, but her heart still ached for glittering six-story trees and the cozy traditions that gave her something to look forward to every day.
Even though things were significantly leaner than they used to be, Emma and Lisa didn’t let that keep them from their traditions.
Ugly sweater day, a holiday movie marathon, making cookies from scratch, preparing care packages for the homeless.
Every day held something special. December 1 was always Decoration Day, and she had missed it for the first time in two decades.
“Almost there,” the driver said. Emma leaned closer to the window. They were emerging from the mist. Spires appeared in the distance above snow-laden branches.
Thyme and rosemary perfumed the air outside a small pub. They passed a playground in a state of disrepair, more cottages, a handful of shabby-looking businesses, and what seemed to be the edge of a farmers market, or maybe a winter carnival.
Interest prickled. Would they have time to sightsee while they were here? This might be her last trip for a decade.
They turned off and began a steep ascent.