Coasting Into Love (Friends of the Unexpected Royals #3)

Chapter 1

One

Finals week at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, better known as MIT, is like being trapped inside a pressure cooker.

Everyone’s tired and caffeinated within an inch of their life, and shuffles from exam to exam like zombies.

By the end of the week, everything is one big blur.

We’re lucky if we can still write our own names.

This semester, I’m lucky. The final I’ve been dreading the most, Heat Transfer and Thermodynamics II, is the one I get over with first. It means I’ll be able to actually get some sleep. With the keyword being some. Because I still have two exams to go. I can’t celebrate just yet.

Today’s Tuesday. I’m tucked into my usual corner of the library, surrounded by open textbooks, highlighters, a stack of spiral notebooks, and my slightly overheating laptop. I’m halfway through reviewing equations for tomorrow’s Dynamic Systems and Controls final when my computer chimes.

I ignore it at first. I’m in the zone, and the last thing I need is to start doom scrolling.

Only when it chimes again, my eyes catch the email’s subject line.

Subject: Excelsior Parks — Interview Invitation

My breath catches. My fingers shake as I click the mail icon. Dynamic Systems can wait. This is an email that could change everything.

Dear Ms. Minami,

Thank you for your interest in the Junior Theme Park Attractions Engineer position at Excelsior Parks. For over five decades, we’ve had the privilege of designing innovative attractions for theme parks around the world, and we are always on the lookout for exceptional talent to join our team.

Out of the hundreds of CVs and portfolios we receive each month, your application stood out to our recruitment panel.

If you are still interested in becoming part of the Excelsior Parks team, we would be delighted to schedule a Zoom interview with you during the week of 14 June.

Please reply at your earliest convenience to confirm your availability.

Thank you again for your time and interest.

Warm regards,

Mara Banks

Talent Acquisition

Excelsior Parks

I blink a few times as I stare at the screen, reading the message again to make sure I’m not hallucinating. You never know with the amount of caffeine coursing through my veins.

But after pinching my forearm, I can confirm that I am, in fact, not dreaming. Excelsior Parks, one of the world’s top design firms, wants to interview me.

A laugh bursts out before I can stop it. I slap a hand over my mouth as a few nearby students glance up from their laptops with matching death stares. Oops. I duck my head and click Reply. My fingers are still trembling as I start to type.

Subject: Re: Excelsior Parks — Interview

Dear Ms. Banks,

Thank you so much for reaching out. Yes, I’d love to schedule an interview with you. Working at Excelsior Parks has been a longtime dream of mine.

Tuesday mornings tend to be best, but I can make any date work.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Regards,

Kaori Minami

I click Send and return my attention to my books. Except I know it’s probably a lost cause. I know myself. I’ll be obsessively checking my email until I receive a reply. Which could take minutes or a few days.

I sigh. If I’m going to be distracted, I might as well head back to my apartment and be comfortable. I begin gathering up my things. As I unplug my computer, my inbox pings again.

Subject: Re: Excelsior Parks — Interview

Dear Ms. Minami,

Shall we say 16 June at 13:00 UK time?

Regards,

M. Banks

I quickly do the math. That’s eight a.m. here in Massachusetts. It’s early for me, but totally manageable. My heart thuds in my chest as I reply.

Subject: Re: Excelsior Parks — Interview

Dear Ms. Banks,

That would work perfectly.

Best,

Kaori Minami

I hit Send again. This is really happening.

As I watch the message disappear from my outbox, my brain drifts toward the interview.

What can I say to the Excelsior Parks panel that will make me stand out from everyone else?

I wish I could ask what they saw on my CV so I knew how to prepare.

Will they ask about my technical classes?

My thoughts on their flagship attractions?

Or will they dive straight into the math behind the coaster designs in my portfolio?

There are so many ways it could go. I close my laptop and slip it into its protective sleeve. At least I know one thing for certain—I scored this interview on my own merits.

“Princess” didn’t appear anywhere on my CV even though I could’ve listed it under work experience. That may be who I am, but it’s not who I want the world to see.

The next two weeks pass by in a blur. It’s graduation week, but all my spare time and energy have gone into giving myself a crash course on Excelsior Parks. I’ve memorized their past projects, their design philosophy, their development timelines, and even their stock performance.

You never know what might be helpful. Random facts have saved the day before, like the time my father hosted the German chancellor. Papa had to step away and tasked me with entertaining him. I knew the chancellor was a dog person, but I wasn’t sure if he actually had any.

So I took a shot in the dark and mentioned a few facts about Weimaraners, the only breed of German dogs I remembered. The next thing I knew, he’d handed me his phone so I could scroll through the album of his three dogs. Which were, you guessed it, Weimaraners.

On the morning of June 16, I’m wake up at three a.m., and I down an entire pot of green tea as I triple-check my notes, my setup, my lighting.

I catch my reflection in the darkened window of my microwave and pause. My jet-black hair, usually down, is pulled back into a practical, no-nonsense knot at the nape of my neck. I lean in closer to the door, adjusting the purple frames of my Tiffany glasses.

I’ve always preferred them to contacts; they feel like a shield between me and the world. They frame my dark-brown eyes in a way that makes me look more like a serious academic and less like the girl whose face used to appear on the back of Japanese newspapers.

At 7:55, my body is buzzing with excitement.

I’m having a difficult time sitting still as I log into my email and click the link to the video call Mara Banks sent me.

My heart thuds wildly against my ribs as the screen flickers to life, revealing a virtual meeting room with two faces already present.

One is a woman, whom I assume is Mara Banks herself. Her expression is warm and professional. She looks like she’s in her early thirties and is wearing a black-and-white striped top.

The other person is a man in his late fifties who reminds me of one of my MIT professors. He has a crown of unruly salt-and-pepper hair and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched precariously at the end of his nose.

“Ah, Ms. Minami. Thank you for joining us,” Mara says. “We’re waiting on one more person. I hope your day is going well so far.”

I nod and flash a tight smile. “Yes. It is.” For a horrifying few seconds, I suddenly can’t think of a single thing to say to these strangers. “Um . . . how’s the weather?”

I hold back a wince. I couldn’t think of something more interesting to say?

Mara smiles, a more natural one than mine. “We’re getting a bit of sun today.”

“About time.” The engineer with glasses exhales. “We’re all a bit vitamin D deficient in this office. Well, most of us.”

I force a nervous laugh. A few alarm bells ring in my head. How can I follow up with that?

Luckily, I’m saved as the man we’re waiting for pops into the meeting. “Mara, Nathan, Miss”—he squints at the screen—“Minami. So sorry I’m late.”

The man is younger than I’d pictured. He’s maybe late twenties? It’s hard to tell with the dim lighting. But I can make out a strong jawline, sharp cheekbones, and thick, curly dark hair.

“Not to worry, Theo. We haven’t started yet,” Mara says. “I appreciate you stepping in on such late notice. I know you were traveling, but there wasn’t anyone else available to fill in and—”

“No need to explain, Mara. I’m always happy to help.” His voice is a low, steady rumble. “You had the perfect timing when you called. I’d just checked in. One second . . .” He stands and flicks on a lamp. “That’s better.”

As he reappears on the screen, the lighting hits him full force.

The “just checked in” is literal. His eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with heavy shadows.

The nape of his neck and jaw are coated with a day’s worth of stubble.

His navy sweater is slightly rumpled. However, despite his appearance, his blue eyes are bright with focus.

“Enough about me. We’re here to speak with Miss Minami. ”

Mara’s cheeks flush light pink and she introduces the two engineers—Nathan and Theo—and herself again.

The first questions from Mara and Nathan are standard fare—my career motivations, academic background, and why I want to work for Excelsior Parks.

I relax as I talk about my passion for physics and roller coasters and how it led me to pursue a hybrid civic- and structural-engineering degree.

Theo listens without interrupting, occasionally jotting notes on a tablet. When we move to my portfolio, he finally looks up fully.

“Your designs are interesting. I’d like to focus on your hyperloop prototype.

I’ve noticed you opted for an electromechanical braking system.

Given the speeds involved, we’d typically use a pneumatic system instead to distribute the force more evenly and provide a cleaner fail-safe if the power cuts out. What was your reasoning here?”

I close my eyes briefly and picture the schematics—the silver cradle, the magnetic suspension, the web of sensors beneath the shell.

I take a deep breath and open my eyes. “A pneumatic system has a higher risk of failure if even one component is damaged. I opted for the electromechanical system because it includes built-in backups. They’ll activate if anything goes wrong and will isolate the failures instead of cascading them.”

Theo and Nathan nod, jotting down a few notes.

“For example, in a power-out scenario,” I continue, “the backup generator supplies enough power for a controlled, safe stop. My design choice prioritizes guest safety, which as you all know, is one of Excelsior Parks’ key tenets.”

Theo’s gaze sharpens. “A controlled deceleration to a full stop on a backup system,” he repeats slowly, like he’s testing the edges of the idea. “And hypothetically speaking, what would you do if that system failed?”

My pulse is still spiking. In all my lab models, there were never any failures. The electromechanics brakes always held. I gaze up at Theo, who is watching me with curiosity. Is he testing me?

“If we’re considering a worst-case scenario, you’ll notice that I’ve designed the track to work with us. I’ve included permanent magnetic fins at the terminal end. They create an automatic, invisible drag—eddy currents—that would bring the pod to a safe stop even if the entire park lost power.

His eyebrows twitch. Bingo. It is a test.

And just to show that I actually understand the physics of his world, I add, “A pneumatic system in that same scenario? Without air pressure or power? That’s just a runaway train. Which is exactly why I designed my coaster the way I did.”

He just gives a single, slow nod, his attention fixed on me a second too long before he looks back at his tablet. “Thorough,” he murmurs. “Expensive to build but . . . thorough.” He clears his throat and shifts his focus. “Thank you, Miss Minami.”

Yes! A surge of triumph courses through me. For the first time since the interview began, I’m not just answering questions—I’m being seen. And more importantly, I’m on fire right now! Nothing can bring me down. “Do you have any more questions?” I ask.

“No, I think we’ve gotten everything we need,” Nathan says. “Theo?”

“Likewise.”

“In that case, we appreciate your time today, Kaori. We’ll be in touch with our decision in a few weeks,” Mara says.

As the screen finally fades to black, I jump out of my chair and do a happy dance that’s on-par with Hugh Grant in Love Actually.

I’ll let you in on a little secret—Even with years of classical Japanese dance and ballroom training behind me, I still can’t dance.

My brain can derive complex equations, but my body can’t hold on to a single bit of choreography.

What I’ve perfected over the years is to, one, let your partner lead you, and two, if all else fails, rock back and forth and fake it ’til you make it.

As the adrenaline drains out of me, my mind is already racing ahead. As good as I feel about Excelsior Parks, nothing is a given. When I was applying to colleges, I thought I’d nailed every interview. It never crossed my mind that I’d receive any rejections.

But in the end, Stanford, Berkeley, CalTech, and Michigan all sent the dreaded “too many qualified applicants” form letter. Which was fine, honestly—MIT was my first choice anyway.

Over the next few days, between the whirlwind of graduation, I have a handful of interviews with East Coast firms. They’re safe choices—companies that would let me stay close to the life I’ve built here.

I’ll take whatever job I’m offered to get my foot in the door, but deep down, I’m crossing my fingers that the Excelsior interview pans out.

It’s the future I want. Even if it means moving across the pond.