Chapter 16 — Lisabet

When I get back to my room in the summer palace, I’m relieved to find the cello that Miles gifted me still safely tucked away in its case under my bed. It’s not that I’m worried there are thieves in the palace, but this cello is worth so much to me. One, because it’s worth more than I’ll ever hope to earn in a million years, but also because Miles gave it to me. It’s irreplaceable in more ways than one.

Returning to Oxland felt like something out of a spy movie.

Our plane landed in the cover of the night, and there was a car already waiting on the tarmac to pick us up. Upon arriving back at the palace, Miles and I had to part ways.

I’ll admit I don’t understand the need for all of this secrecy. Now that we’re together, I’d think he’d have no problem if we were seen together. I do my best to be understanding. There’s a great deal about royal life that I don’t know about.

Maybe some people will think it’s scandalous that the prince is dating a commoner. Or the fact that said commoner happens to live under the same roof as him and his family. Whatever the reason, I don’t blame him for keeping this under wraps. If anything, this will just give us more time to enjoy one another without having to worry about what everybody else thinks.

I wake up the next morning to a text message from Miles. It immediately brings a smile to my face.

Good morning, sunshine!

I roll over and curl up with my phone, barely able to believe that this is my life. I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy and safe and adored.

I have back-to-back meetings this morning, sorry.

My thumbs fly over the screen to shoot him back a response.

Not two seconds later, Miles sends me a picture of Jingles wearing the collar I picked out in Paris. His tongue’s hanging out and his tail is a blur, no doubt wagging with utter delight. The two of them seem to be in bed, curled up together beneath beautiful satin sheets.

Have a doggo picture to make up for it.

I laugh.

Why thank you. All is forgiven.

I’m about to get out of bed and start my day myself when my phone rings. It’s from an unknown number, so I take a moment before deciding to answer.

“Hello?”

“May I speak to Miss Lisabet Thompson?” comes a woman’s voice. It’s sultry and smooth, like fine wine.

I raise an eyebrow, curious. “Speaking.”

“Hello, Lisabet. My name is Shania Mallory from SM Records. Is this a bad time?”

My heart does a triple flip in my chest. SM Records is well known in the classical community as one of the top recording companies in the western hemisphere. They’ve produced albums for all sorts of famous violinists, pianists, cellists, and even a couple of trombonists. The record label is highly competitive and exclusive, so I have no sweet clue how or why the founder of SM Records is calling me personally.

“No,” I say hastily. “No, not a bad time at all. H-how can I help you?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you lately, Lisabet. Apparently, someone at the state dinner heard your performance and thought it was so good that they’d give me a call.”

My face flushes with heat. “Really? Oh my God, that’s great!”

“Do you compose, by any chance? My record label is always on the lookout for up-and-coming, fresher sounds.”

“I…I do, actually.”

“They any good?” she asks, a mild hint of teasing in her tone.

“Yes, of course. Well, I think so, at least.”

“If you wouldn’t mind putting a few of your songs onto a demo, I’d love to give it a listen. If it’s good, I’d love to discuss the possibility of a record deal, complete with advance.”

My heart shoots up into my throat, beating a mile a minute. “Y-yes! I’d love that. Absolutely! I’ll, uh…I don’t have any recording equipment on me right now, but I’m sure I can make it happen.”

“Excellent. I’ll be sending you an email with more information. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll talk to you soon.”

An electric sensation lingers in the air after I hang up. I can hardly believe what’s happening. It feels like forever ago that my luck had taken a turn for the worst, and now everything’s gone and done a one-eighty. Meeting Miles, getting the job offer of a lifetime to work for the Oxlandian Royal Family, and now this?

I can barely contain my excitement. My hard work is finally being recognized.

I leap out of bed and throw on some clothes, so happy that I’m on the verge of vibrating right out of my skin. And despite everything going on, there’s really only one thing on my mind.

I need to tell Miles.

Dashing down the halls, I make it to Miles’ private chambers. The coast is clear, not a security guard in sight. I take this opportunity to knock on his door, practically hopping in place out of sheer glee.

Miles answers, a loving smile on his face. It occurs to me that it’s still incredibly early because Miles is in a loose sleep shirt and a pair of shorts, gorgeous hair messy from sleep. It strikes me how handsome he looks like this, effortlessly graceful and exuding a level of confidence I’d only ever achieve after at least four cups of coffee.

Jingles is by his side, tail wagging wildly. I bend down to give him a quick scratch behind the ear.

“Hey,” Miles greets, voice deliciously husky. “What’s up?”

“You’ll never guess what just happened to me! SM Records just called me. Shania Mallory herself!”

“Oh?” he says coolly.

“Yeah! She says someone at the state dinner really liked my music. She wants to hear a demo and maybe give me a record deal!”

Miles beams. “Lisabet, that’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.”

I let out a little squeal. “I can’t believe it. I still think I’m dreaming. I wonder who it was who recommended me.”

Something flashes across Miles’ face, but it disappears too quickly for me to fully register. “I wonder who indeed. Though it’s no surprise. I told you you’re talented. It’s about time someone took notice.”

I sigh contently. “I’m just so happy. I have no idea how I’m going to record anything, though. You wouldn’t happen to have a microphone sitting around the palace, would you?”

Miles chuckles. “We have many things, but I’m afraid a recording studio isn’t one of them. I’m sure I can get one of the attendants to track some equipment down for you.”

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

“We should celebrate,” he says with a grin. “Feel like having dinner with me?”

“That sounds fabulous.”

“I’ll have David pick you up. I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

I nod. “Sure. I can’t wait.”

Before I leave, Miles gives me a quick peck on the lips. It’s sweet, teasing, and unfortunately brief.

I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.