Viktor said he was going to try and shield me from the world as much as he could. It feels kind of romantic, being kept in secret like a concubine. He said the only people who would know would be his private secretary Freddie, his butler and a few guards. Eventually he wants to introduce me to the rest of his family, but he seemed pretty adamant about keeping me a secret at the start.
I don’t mind. I brought up the fact that Meghan Markle and Prince Harry dated in secrecy for months before even Prince William found out. If they can do it, so can we. That said, we’ll both be in Stockholm, not some safari camp in the middle of nowhere, and it’s going to get intricately more challenging once the kids come, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
All that matters now is that a choice has been made and I’m on my way.
To fucking Sweden!
Land of aquavit and moose and IKEA and ABBA and Volvos and universal healthcare!
There are a million more things to get excited about but as the plane takes off and the runways of LAX drop away, I’m met with some worry. The biggest one is my job. Juanita would have been fine with me taking two weeks off but over a month? That crossed the line.
We parted on amicable terms, even though she thought I was crazy to do this, and she said she’d give me my job back when I returned but the truth is, until then, I’m out of my job.
In other words, I quit my job for Viktor.
Now I know Viktor has told me many times that he would take care of me and I also know I have savings now that can support all of us if it turns out I have to look for another job (of course those savings I have thanks to Viktor), but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m doing something quite irresponsible.
Neither Annette or Sam think it’s a good idea either. I mean, they thought it was romantic and they think it will be awesome for the kids to travel for the first time, especially if they are treated like royalty. But I did just quit my job to do this, which is a huge step. And though I love Viktor more than I can bear, there is currently no security in our relationship. It’s so brand new.
And that’s nagging at me too. As it stands, I’ll be coming back with the kids, though Viktor said he has yet to book me a return ticket. He thinks he can change my mind. He thinks I might want to stay. He says it will be his mission over the next month to make me stay.
But as Sam had said on the phone, where is this going? Where could this go? I can’t just stay in Sweden, I have kids to take care of and a life in Tehachapi. And even if I did stay, then what? Am I willing to risk everything, and I mean absolutely everything and everyone, on love?
I guess the answer for now, is, yes. Quitting my job, a job I needed, for a man, was never something the old Maggie would do, but apparently the new Maggie is just throwing caution to the wind these days for a chance to keep having hot sex.
Hot sex with a prince.
Hot sex with a man that I love.
Maybe quitting my job was worth it.
I don’t fret too much more for the rest of thirteen-hour flight because the flight attendant thinks I’m super nervous, so she keeps giving me booze and then I start watching movies and after a while, when the cabin lights are dimmed, I actually fall asleep.
I wake up just as breakfast is being served and before I know it, the plane is landing at Stockholm’s Arlanda airport.
I look out the window to see my first glimpses of the country and my bleary-eyes are blinded by all the white.
Snow.
There’s nothing but snow.
In fact, the runway that is quickly rushing up to meet the plane looks exactly like a skating rink.
Oh my god, we’re all going to die.
They forgot to plow the runway!
I look around frantically to see if anyone else is in the crash position or bracing themselves but everyone else looks completely calm.
We land without incident. I’m not sure what kind of snow tires they have on this thing.
Then I’m off the plane and in the very clean and modern airport and it’s just like…
I’M IN SWEDEN!
The signs are in Swedish and people are talking Swedish and everyone looks like a supermodel and I’m so tired and jet-lagged and overjoyed right now.
And scared. I’m also scared, wishing that I could have flow back with Viktor when he did or wishing he stayed in Tehachapi with me, even though there was no way he could have spared the time.
I go up to the passport control and slide a very unsmiling man my passport.
“What brings you to Sweden?” he asks.
Oh shit. I can’t say I’m meeting the prince. That’s all top secret.
“I’m meeting a friend.”
He looks past me at someone in the line, like he wants to murder someone back there. “What is your friend’s name?”
What?
“Uh, Johan Andersson.”
“Where does he live?”
“Stockholm.”
“What is the address?”
“Why, you gonna come check on me?” I try and laugh.
His sharp eyes flit to mine. “What is the address of Johan Andersson?”
Oh shit. You don’t joke here.
“It’s one ten…Skarsgard Way.”
He narrows his eyes, studying for a moment.
I hold my breath.
How obvious is it that I just made that up?
“How did you meet Johan Andersson?”
“He stayed at my hotel.”
“Pardon me?”
“I met him in California, at a hotel. We went to Disneyland. I fell in love and here I am.” I smile awkwardly. “Ta-da.”
He shakes his head, stamps the page, and curtly slides the passport back to me. “Have a nice day.”
I quickly take it from him and hurry along. Jeez, what was up his ass.
Now that I’ve gotten through passport control, I have other things to worry about.
What if there’s no one to pick me up? What if I have to take a cab and Viktor warned me about the cabs, what did he say again?
I ponder this as I get my luggage from the carousel and haul it through the customs and out into the arrivals part of the terminal.
That’s when I see a familiar face.
“Nick!” I cry out when I see the beak-nosed man holding a sign that reads McPherson.
“Miss McPherson,” Nick says to me, as reserved as ever or I’m starting to think that’s how all Swedes are. “Come this way.”
Nick is dressed in black like all the limo and pick-up drivers are, like they all belong to the same secret army but only Nick walks like he’s leading me off to the barracks.
It feels like that too because holy shit, the moment I step outside I realize how severely underdressed I am. Viktor had told me to bring my warmest coat and even though Tehachapi’s nickname is the town of four seasons (which probably sounds really redundant outside of California) apparently my warmest coat is not going to cut it.
It’s colder than a New York winter.
It’s colder than a witch’s tit.
It’s colder than a polar bear’s toenails.
It’s cold as fuck.
Shivering and quickly buttoning up my shitty coat as I follow Nick to the parking lot, we pass a long line of people waiting outside for cabs, none of them looking the slightest bit put out or shivering like I am. I curse them immediately and the wind picks up in response, throwing snow in my face.
Thankfully it’s not long until I’m getting in the back of what looks like the Mercedes version of a town car. It’s warm in here and then we’re on the highway which seems even less plowed than the runway was, except all the cars are zooming along it at top speed. We only slow down when the visibility turns everything in front of us into a white wall and we’re still going faster than fifty.
“Is it always this, uh, snowy?” I ask Nick.
“Not always in November but we’re getting an early start to winter this year.”
Oh great. I can’t look out the window anymore, it’s giving me anxiety, so I lay back and let the warmth of the car’s heater wash over me and the jet-lag seep into my bones and then Nick is shaking my leg.
“We’re here,” he says.
I slowly push myself up and look around. I’m still in the car. Outside it’s all white.
He gets out of the car and opens the back door, a rush of startlingly cold air swooping in and slapping me in the face. He has an umbrella held above me, though the snow is taking no prisoners, and helps me out.
“This is the back entrance to the palace,” he tells me, and I look over the car at the tall three-story white building that seems to blend in too well with the snow. “Bodi there will get you all sorted.”
A man comes scuttling out of the back door and grabs my suitcase out of the trunk. I’ve heard of Bodi the butler before but for some reason I imagined him to be dressed, like, well a butler. I suppose it’s as much of a stereotype as me wearing a French maid’s uniform.
Bodi is balding a bit but has crazy red hair and bright emerald eyes that match his green velvet suit.
“Welcome Miss McPherson,” he says to me, gesturing to the door. “Please follow me inside.”
I look at Nick as snowflakes gather in his hair. Even though it’s the afternoon here, things already seem to be getting dark, bathing the grounds in this blue-gray glow.
“Where is Viktor?” I ask Nick. I would have thought he would have come out of the door with Bodi.
“He will be back later,” he says and then gets back in his car, the tires spinning on the snow for a moment before the car lurches off.
“Miss,” Bodi urges from the door.
I nod and come toward him, nearly slipping twice on the snow before I get to the door.
“Sorry,” he says, nodding behind me. “It’s usually shoveled dry. I know her highness wants a heated driveway installed but this is a very old place.”
I wave him off, not wanting him to make a fuss. Who the fuck would I be, some poor girl showing up at a royal palace and seeming upset that the driveway isn’t shoveled?
I also found it kind of funny that he said “her highness wants this” like he’s being sarcastic but he’s very much not. Because, that’s Viktor’s mother. I might not have to call Viktor anything but Viktor, but I can’t go up to his mother and be like “yo, what up Mrs. N, what’s happening?”