Royal Wedding - Meg Cabot Page 0,89

I started thinking, why don’t you let the refugees live on the cruise ships until you can find them some better place to stay? That’s what they did for refugees of Hurricane Julio. We saw a documentary about it in school.”

I stared at her some more. I’ve heard the expression out of the mouths of babes hundreds of times, but I’d never really understood it until that moment.

“Oh, Olivia,” I cried, joyously throwing my arms around her to hug her. “Where have you been all my life?”

“Um,” she said, a bit startled, but hugging me back. “New Jersey?”

I don’t think I’ve laughed quite that hard in a long time. It felt good. Almost good enough to make me forget the throbbing pain in my foot, where her aunt had smashed it with a door.

After I released her, Olivia reached up to push her glasses back into place.

“What was that for?” she wanted to know, meaning the hug.

“You just solved a big royal headache,” I told her.

“I did?” she asked. A pleased smile crept across her face. “That’s great. How?”

“Thinking outside the box,” Lilly told her, since I’d gotten back on the phone, this time to text Madame Dupris. “Finish your homework.”

“I wasn’t thinking outside any box,” Olivia said. “Sometimes I color outside the lines, though.”

“Keep doing it, kid,” Lilly advised. “You’ll go places.”

HRH Mia Thermopolis “FtLouie” to Deputy Prime Minister Madame Cécile Dupris “Le Grand Fromage”

Madame, you’re going to hear some news from Monsieur le Directeur José de la Rive (about which I cannot go into detail at this time) that will be quite startling, but welcome. When you hear it, the proposal I’m about to write will make perfect sense:

When the time is right (you will know when), ask Ivan Renaldo to donate three cruise ships for the use of the Genovian government so that they may house the Qalifi refugees for a time period of no less than six months.

If he refuses, tell him that everything the Renaldo family knows about him will be made public.

This should, I trust, alleviate the refugee crisis for the present time, until we can come up with a more permanent solution.

XOXO

M

Deputy Prime Minister Madame Cécile Dupris “Le Grand Fromage,” to HRH Mia Thermopolis “FtLouie”

!!!

I am, as the Americans say, very gung ho about this and dying to know what it’s all about, but for now will proceed as requested.

I was quite startled, Princess, to hear the news about your sister, but am quite gung ho about this as well. Any addition to the family is always pleasant, is it not?

XOXO

C

I’m not entirely sure Madame Dupris knows what gung ho means, but it’s reassuring that we have one normal, intelligent person on the team, anyway, and might possibly pull this whole thing off, after all.

CHAPTER 55

7:05 p.m., Wednesday, May 6

The Plaza Hotel

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I don’t know how I could have been so stupid. All the signs were there. I suppose I was ignoring them because I didn’t want to have to face the truth.

But I can’t ignore them anymore, especially after I hobbled into Grandmère’s condo a little while ago and there stood J. P. Reynolds-Abernathy IV.

Well, he did say that after his latest movie was a flop, he’d had to take a job working for his uncle.

It’s my own fault for not asking what kind of job, or recognizing that the Reynolds in Lazarres-Reynolds is the same Reynolds as in Reynolds-Abernathy IV.

Isn’t this another kind of conflict of interest, though, not unlike Cousin Ivan’s? J.P. really should have turned down this assignment when it was offered to him. “Oh, no, she’s my ex-girlfriend from high school. I couldn’t possibly work for her family.”

But no. To do that, J.P. would have to have developed some empathy, and why would that have happened? All the signs point to him having only gotten more manipulative since high school. He’s already cornered me once in Grandmère’s kitchen (where I hobbled to get some ice for my foot. I didn’t want to bother anyone by asking for some), where he said in this completely sincere (fake) voice:

“Mia, I hope it doesn’t bother you that I’m here. I thought about messaging you to let you know, but then I realized how insulting that would be, since we’re both mature adults and what we had was so long ago—I mean, it was high school, after all. And you’re engaged to Michael now, so it seemed hardly worth mentioning.”

“Ha ha!” I said breezily. “Of course! Exactly.”

“So no worries,