Royal Wedding - Meg Cabot Page 0,75

have known her. But since I never had the opportunity, I’d like to get to know you, and of course my sister, before you and your family move to Qalif—”

Catherine O’Toole looked relieved. “Oh. So that’s really all you came here for?”

I exchanged glances with Tina and Lilly. “Uh, yes. Why?”

“No reason.”

Ha. She totally suspected another reason for my visit . . . that we’d found out the truth about her and her bohunk husband stealing all my sister’s money!

But of course I had no proof of this . . . yet. And as Tina kept insisting, maybe it wasn’t even true.

“Well, maybe one other thing,” I added, wickedly.

Was it my imagination, or did she appear flustered?

“Yes?”

“There’s actually a warning out from the State Department right now advising Americans not to travel to Qalif due to the civil unrest—”

Catherine O’Toole made a pooh-poohing gesture with one of her long-nailed hands. “Oh, that. I talked to a girl at the embassy, she said it’s all being overexaggerated. It’s perfectly safe so long as you stay in the American compounds.”

“Uh,” I said, watching as Tina’s eyes got rounder and rounder with astonishment. “Okay. Well, if it’s all right with you, my father and I were wondering if Olivia could stay with us for a while—” I was lying left and right now, so many lies I could hardly keep track of them. “Maybe for a few weeks this summer while you and your family get settled in to, uh, your new home in Qalif? How does that sound?”

Catherine O’Toole bit her lower lip. “Oh, well, I don’t know. I’d have to discuss it with Rick. . . .”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about the oranges,” Lilly leaped in, breezily. “The rumors about the rats aren’t true.”

I glared at her, then said to Olivia’s aunt, “I really would so value this opportunity, Mrs. O’Toole.”

“Oh, please call me Catherine.”

“Catherine.”

“Well,” she said, hesitating.

Tina leaned forward and laid a hand soothingly on her knee. “It would be such a kindness. Olivia’s the only memory you have left of your sister, but Princess Mia’s never had a sister at all, so think what a chance this would provide her.”

Lilly shot Tina a look that said, Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you? which Tina ignored.

“Oh, my,” Catherine said. “It’s not that I wouldn’t love to help you. It’s just that Rick already paid the deposit for Olivia’s new school in Qalif. It’s year round there, so they have it even in the summer. Extended learning, they call it—and it wasn’t cheap. And it was also nonrefundable.”

Tina looked confused. “Wait. Are you saying—?”

Lilly leaned forward to pluck Tina’s hand from the older woman’s knee.

“I think I know exactly what Mrs. O’Toole is saying,” Lilly said. “Don’t you, Mia?”

I was already reaching inside my bag for my checkbook. “Absolutely,” I said. The thing is, you can’t hang around the beaches of the Riviera without noticing all the grifters, and then learning to recognize a shakedown when you see one. “Why don’t you let me pay you back for Olivia’s summer term, since it looks like she might be staying with us?”

“But—” Tina sputtered. She still didn’t understand what was happening. “What?”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Catherine said, smooth as silk. “You can make the check out to me personally. That’s Catherine with a C.” She mentioned an astonishingly large sum of money that, when Tina heard it, caused her to make a squeaking noise.

Lars calmly passed her the bowl from the coffee table. “Nuts?” he asked.

“No, I’m not hun—”

Lilly jammed a handful of nuts into her palm and signaled for Tina to eat them, which she did, still wide-eyed, but only after Lilly gave her a warning glare.

“That’s great,” Lilly said, watching as I made out the check. “And if you, Catherine, would just look over this contract I took the liberty of drawing up this morning”—she pulled a stapled sheaf of papers from her messenger bag—“then sign it, I think we can be on our way.”

Catherine took the pages from her and thumbed through them while I gave Lilly a surprised look. A contract?

And Lilly had made such a fuss about us coming here unprepared.

But Lilly Moscovitz was never unprepared for anything. Well, not since tenth grade or so, anyway.

“Standard language, really,” Lilly went on, more to me than to Olivia’s aunt, “about how you don’t intend to share any information about this meeting or your niece’s parentage with the press, and an addendum on the