Royal Wedding by Meg Cabot

promoting them, not because he’s dunked them in boiling water) said he was in a town car headed up to see me .
    â€œDo you want me to put you through to his cell phone, Your Highness?”
    I told the assistant that he doesn’t have to call me “Your Highness” because he’s not a Genovian citizen and we’re on U.S. soil. Then I said no, that I’d tried Michael’s cell already, thanked him, and hung up.
    â€¢Â Â Â  Note to self: Is it my imagination, or did Michael’s new assistant sound disappointed about the Your Highness thing? I hope he doesn’t turn out to be another one of those weirdos who fetishizes royals. I’ll have to get his full name from Michael and then have Lars look into him.
    Oh, another text:
    Are you just sitting there writing in your diary or are you actually making progress?
    Oh my God. How does he DO that?
HRH Mia Thermopolis “FtLouie”>
    Michael, this is very sweet of you, but you KNOW whatever it is you’ve got planned, I can’t go. It’s absurd. Why won’t you pick up your phone?
    Because I don’t want to get into it with you. What part of “don’t argue” did you not understand?
    I’m not arguing, I’m telling you facts . Seriously, this is a terrible time for me to leave. The country of Genovia needs me. The center needs me. My family needs me.
    I need you. We need to have a relaxing weekend away from orange-throwing Genovians and your insane family.
    There’s been a DEATH in my insane family, Michael, and another ALMOST death (if you count my dad). And what about my grandmother? I can’t leave.
    Yes, you CAN leave, and you will. Perin and Ling Su can handle the center—that’s why you hired them. And Frank died a year ago. And don’t worry about your dad, he can take care of himself. And your grandmother’s been taken care of, too.
    What? What is that supposed to mean? No one “takes care” of my grandmother. Grandmère’s like that old dowager countess on Downton Abbey (only not as nice). She takes care of herself, although occasionally she allows servants to prepare her food and drink and drive her around (thank God, since they took away her license years ago, which they should probably do to my dad).
    It’s sweet of you, Michael, whatever you have planned, but you know this is crazy. It’s because of the orange-throwing Genovians that I can’t leave. And in addition to everything else, I have that charity gala I promised to attend on Saturday night. And I can’t leave behind my laptop. Neither can you! Do I have to remind you that you own a computer-based business?
    I don’t want to think of myself as predictable (who does?) but it almost seems as if he anticipated my response, he wrote back so quickly:
    We both need to disconnect from work and the Internet. Don’t even try to tell me that you didn’t see RTR this morning. I know you check it every five minutes to make sure you’re in the top three.
    This is a scurrilous falsehood! I check Rate the Royals no more than once a day.
    But before I could protest, I received this:
    I already asked Dominique to give your regrets about the gala and she said she’d be glad to. I know how anxious you are to rebuild what you consider your family’s “tarnished reputation,” but I think throwing your support behind every charity that asks for your help (such as a society hoping to reverse the “alarming decline of butterflies and moths in urban areas”) might not be the most effective way to do it.
    He’d spoken to my publicist behind my back? How dare he?
    But again, before I could text a word in reply, I received this:
    And both your mom AND dad say they’ll be fine without you. They agree with me that you need a break after all the stress you’ve been through this past year. It’s making you physically