“There’s a microwave?” she asked.

“Of course,” the driver replied, as if she’d questioned his honor. “There’s also a Keurig if you need coffee or tea.”

“Thank you,” Ledi said. Traffic was moving pretty smoothly, but she worried they would hit a snarl along the way. “What is the exact time of my flight, by the way? Likotsi only told me when to be ready for the car service to pick me up.”

There was a pause. “Pardon?”

“What time is my flight?” Ledi repeated. She looked around to see if there was some kind of intercom button so he could hear her better. When she pressed a small button on the interior wall beside her head, a panel slid away revealing a touch screen dotted with various icons. One with a martini glass likely represented the bar. One with wavy lines seemed to represent the AC. She wasn’t sure what the icon with the flames represented, but figured it was best not to touch that lest she end up a victim of her curiosity.

“I imagine it’s in about an hour and a half,” he said, much too vague for Ledi’s liking.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She tapped an icon with a bottle of water on it and another panel slid open, revealing an empty cubbyhole. A second later a petite bottle of mineral water dropped down.

What the hell?

“I read that you’re supposed to get to the airport two hours ahead of time. I don’t want to miss the flight and have to rebook.”

A chuckle came through the speakers. “The flight won’t leave without you, so please relax and enjoy the ride. If there’s any particular music you’d like to listen to, you can sync your phone to the car’s audio system.”

Ledi pulled out her phone and selected the latest episode of her favorite science podcast. The familiar voices of the hosts bantering about gut microbiota soothed her for the rest of the ride.

They hit a bit of traffic and Ledi fought panic that she’d show up at the airport just in time to see her plane take off. She’d never been through security before, but Portia always said it was a nightmare if you didn’t have TSA PreCheck.

Portia.

Ledi wished she could have asked her friend what to expect on the flight, what to wear to meet a royal family. Portia knew the ins and outs of this high society kind of stuff, but Ledi would have to figure it out on her own.

She felt a twinge of guilt; she was flying to see Thabiso but ignoring her best friend? She stopped herself from going down that self-recriminating path. The bottom line was she was still mad as hell and her trust was bruised and battered. Whatever she was doing with Thabiso was a sham and would be over soon enough. Her next steps with Portia . . . She needed time, and she would take it. If their friendship couldn’t survive that, it wasn’t much of one.

The limo pulled up to the airport, and Ledi gave in to the impulse she’d been fighting the entire ride. She glanced around the limo, then quickly tapped the flames icon on the digital menu. For a moment there was silence and she was sure she’d activated the self-destruct sequence, but then a panel at the opposite end of the car slid up and a fireplace roared to life.

Who needs a fireplace in a car?

Ledi’s door opened and she quickly tapped the icon so that the fireplace went out. A dark-skinned woman in a pink suit poked her head in.

“Ms. Ajoua?”

“Yes.” Ledi appreciated that the woman had kept it simple and left out Thabiso’s titles.

“I’m Natalie, your airport liaison. Come with me, please.”

The driver wished her a good flight and handed off her suitcase to Natalie, who was walking so quickly that Ledi had to jog to keep up.

“I have your passport,” Natalie said as they walked by a snaking line of people. “You’re much lovelier in person.”

“Thanks. I think. Is that the line for security?” Ledi asked. She was definitely going to miss her flight.

“For commoners,” Natalie replied briskly. “You get an expedited check in.”

“Like preapproval?”

The woman laughed. “Also for commoners. Do you think the Queen of England waits in the TSA preapproved line?”

Ledi had never had to consider such things. She couldn’t imagine the queen hanging out in an airport, but she supposed she had to get around somehow.

Natalie stopped in front of a door that read Authorized Personnel Only and swiped a key.

“Right this way.”

Behind the door was a long hallway that led them to an area with an entirely different atmosphere from the echoing chaos they had just passed through. Classical music piped out through low speakers and the light was warm instead of fluorescent. Beyond the metal detector, there were framed photos on the wall and velvety wallpaper and plush couches instead of plastic seats. She was underdressed in her jeans and sneakers, which was overdressed for flights where people could often be found wearing their pajama pants.

“Wait right here,” the woman said, and approached the TSA officer seated at a wooden desk. She showed him Ledi’s passport and placed her bag through a scanner, then walked through a metal detector. “Come on, Ms. Ajoua.”

Ledi followed her, and a moment later they were walking through a clean comfortable-looking seating area. Expensive looking chairs rested on bright area rugs, interspersed with wooden tables outfitted with chargers, magazines, lotions, and other necessities.