I gasped. “Grandmère! You turned himgay ?”
“Of course not! Amelia, don’t be ridiculous. I—Oh, never mind. How did we even get on this topic? The fact is, the Contessa Trevanni will eat her own head if you give the keynote address at her women’s society’s charity gala. They’ve never askedher granddaughter to speak. Of course, why would they? She’s never accomplished anything, except to get pregnant, which any half-wit can do, and she’s such a namby-pamby, she’d probably freeze up at the sight of those two thousand impeccably groomed, successful businesswomen staring up at her—”
I gasped again…but this time for a different reason. “Wait…twothousand ?”
“We’ll have to make an appointment at Chanel right away,” Grandmère blathered on. “Something subdued, I think, yet youthful. I do believe it’s time we fitted you with a suit. Dresses are fine, but you can never go wrong with a really good wool suit—”
“Impeccably groomed, successful businesswomen?” I echoed, feeling slightly faint. “I thought they were all like Lana’s mom…society wives with full-time nannies and cooks and maids—”
“Nancy Weinberger is one of the most sought-after interior decorators in Manhattan,” Grandmère interrupted coldly. “She completely furnished the apartment the Contessa bought for René and Bella. Let me see, now, the Domina Rei colors are blue and white…blue’s never been your best color, but we’ll have to make do….”
“Grandmère,” I said. Panic was rising in my throat. It was sort of the way I felt every time I thought about Michael, only without the sweaty palms. “I can’t do this. I can’t give a speech in front of two thousand successful businesswomen. You don’t understand—I’m going through a romantic crisis at the moment, and until it’s resolved, I really think I need to keep a low profile…in fact, even after it’s resolved, I don’t think I can speak in front of that many people.”
“Nonsense,” Grandmère said crisply. “You spoke in front of the Genovian parliament about the parking meters, remember? As if any of us could forget.”
“Yeah, but they were just old guys in wigs, not Lana Weinberger’s mom! I don’t know about this, Grandmère. I think maybe I should—”
“Of course, Lord only knows what we’ll do about your hair. I don’t suppose it will have grown in by then. Maybe Paolo can fashion some sort of extensions. I’ll phone him in the morning….”
“Seriously, Grandmère,” I said. “I think I—”
But it was too late. She’d already hung up, still muttering about hair extensions.
Great. This is all I need.
Saturday, September 11, 9 a.m., the loft
Inbox: 0
Which isn’t weird. I mean, he’s still got another three hours in the air. And then he has to go through customs.
So I just need to be patient. I just need to be calm. I just need to—
FTLOUIE: TINA!!!! ARE YOU THERE???? If you’re there, write back. I AM DYING!!!!
ILUVROMANCE: Hi, Mia! I’m here. Why are you dying?????
Oh, thank God. Thank God for Tina Hakim Baba.
FTLOUIE: Because while I know the bond Michael and I have is too strong to be torn asunder by a simple misunderstanding, and that he’s going to call when he gets to Japan and tell me he forgives me and everything is going to be all right—what if it isn’t? What if he doesn’t? Oh, God—my palms won’t stop sweating!!!!! And I think I might be having a heart attack….
ILUVROMANCE: Mia! It’s going to be all right! Of course Michael is going to forgive you! You guys will get back together, and everything is going to be just like it used to be. Better, even. Because couples who go through hard times together always come out stronger for it….
FTLOUIE: That’s right! And whatever, right? My ancestresses have faced far harsher adversity. Such as marauding invaders and abductions and being forced to drink wine out of their murdered fathers’ skulls and all of that. Michael and I will be fine!
ILUVROMANCE: Totally! So I take it you’re not going tonight, then?
FTLOUIE: Going to what?
ILUVROMANCE: To the victory party.
FTLOUIE: What victory party?
ILUVROMANCE: You know. Lilly and Perin’s victory party. For winning the student council election.
FTLOUIE: I wasn’t invited to any victory party.
ILUVROMANCE: You didn’t get the e-mail?
FTLOUIE: Noooooo….
ILUVROMANCE: Oh.
FTLOUIE: Oh, what?
ILUVROMANCE: I didn’t think she was serious.
FTLOUIE: Who? What are you talking about?
ILUVROMANCE: Lilly. She was saying she was never speaking to you again because you’re a backstabbing boyfriend-stealer. But I thought she was joking.
!!!!!!
FTLOUIE: WHAT???? HOW CAN SHE SAY THAT??? IT WAS ONLY A PECK!!! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE CHEEK!!! I ONLY GOT HIS LIPS BY MISTAKE!!!!
ILUVROMANCE: Right. But didn’t you go seeBeauty and the Beast with J. P. last night?
FTLOUIE: Well, yes. But it was perfectly innocent. We just went as FRIENDS.
ILUVROMANCE: But didn’t you say in the past that your ideal man is one who can sit through an entire performance ofBeauty and the Beast , the most romantic and beautiful story ever told, and not snicker in the wrong places?
FTLOUIE: Yes. But that was a long time ago. And I’ve realized since then that I was wrong. Now my ideal man is one who snickers.
ILUVROMANCE: Well, you’d better tell Lilly that.
FTLOUIE: Why? What’s she saying? Wait a minute—how does she even KNOW what J.P. and I did last night? How do YOU even know?
ILUVROMANCE: Oh…you haven’t seen it?
FTLOUIE: SEEN WHAT????
ILUVROMANCE: The giant photo of you and J.P. coming out of the theater that’s in theNew York Post this morning, with the headline “Heartbroken Princess Finds New Love”?
HEARTBROKEN PRINCESS FINDS NEW LOVE
It looks like splitsville for New York’s own Princess Mia Thermopolis (of Genovia) and her longtime boyfriend, Columbia University student—and commoner—Michael Moscovitz.
Moscovitz is rumored to have accepted a yearlong appointment at a Japanese robotics firm in Tsukuba, where he’ll be working on a top secret project.
But her Royal Highness doesn’t appear to be pining for her onetime love—or wasting any time getting back into the dating scene. Her former beau has already been replaced by a mystery man who accompanied the young royal to a performance of the long-running Broadway showBeauty and the Beast Friday evening. Undisclosed sources say that the young man is none other than John Paul Reynolds-Abernathy IV, son of the wealthy theater promoter and producer John Paul Reynolds-Abernathy III.
A fellow theater patron who observed the young couple in their private box asserted, “They certainly seemed cozy up there,” while another stated, “They make a very attractive couple. They’re both so tall and blond.”
When asked for a statement, a Genovian palace spokesman has said, “We do not comment on the princess’s personal life.”
Saturday, September 11, 10 a.m., the loft
Well. At least now I know why I haven’t heard from Lilly.
Which is so messed up on so many levels. I mean, first of all, it was only a peck.
And second of all, they were already broken up when the peck took place. And third of all, WE WENT TO THE SHOW AS FRIENDS. How could anyone in their right mind think I’m GOING OUT with J.P. Reynolds-Abernathy the Fourth?
I mean, sure, he’s funny and cute and a nice guy and all. Don’t get me wrong.
But my heart belongs to Michael Moscovitz, and always will!
None of this makes any sense. Lilly is supposed to be my best friend. How can she believe something so horrible of me?
And it’s true, Iwas pretty awful to her brother this week. But that was only because I (stupidly) didn’t realize what a great thing we had, until I went and lost it.