Royal Wedding (The Princess Diaries 11)

No, we won’t, because when I get home we have that benefit for Sudden Cardiac Death Awareness tonight at the W. And anyway, Boris P. is not throwing you a bachelor party. I can’t believe you even WANT one.

Even one where Boris is chartering a private jet to fly me and some of our other closest World of Warcraft friends to Buenos Aires to eat gigantic steaks?

Never mind.

What? You don’t want to come?

Thank you, no. It sounds like a delightful outing, but I’ll pass. Take Lars with you, though. I’m sure he’d enjoy it.

You only want me to take Lars with me so he won’t be with YOU at your bachelorette party at Crazy Ivan’s.

Dammit! Who told you about that?

Tina told Boris, who told me. He says you girls shouldn’t be the only ones who have fun. Something about “dicklickers”?

I’m going to kill her . . .

He replied with an emoji of what I believe to be a house with flames coming out of the windows and the words, “When you get home expect to be severely reprimanded by the fire marshal.”

!

J.P. is completely wrong. Michael is the opposite of cold and analytical.

CHAPTER 51

2:45 p.m., Wednesday, May 6

Limo outside Olivia’s school

Cranbrook, New Jersey

Rate the Royals Rating: 7

Well, that did not go as well as I’d hoped.

When we pulled up outside Olivia’s aunt’s house—which was a lovely split-level—I saw that, along with a perfectly respectable Mercedes minivan, there was a yellow Ferrari parked in the driveway that had a vanity plate that said Hers on it.

“A Ferrari?” I shook my head. “I don’t even have a Ferrari.”

“You never got your license,” Tina pointed out.

“I’m helping to stimulate the economy,” I explained, “by keeping professional drivers employed.”

“There’s another Ferrari that matches that one exactly sitting in the manager’s parking space in front of O’Toole Construction and Home Design,” Lilly said. “Did you guys notice? But it says His on the vanity plate.”

I had not noticed. We’d gone to the O’Tooles’ place of business first, as planned, only to be told by the wide-eyed receptionist (she’d been reading a copy of OK!, so might have recognized me, as I frequently appear on the cover of OK!) that Mrs. O’Toole was “working from home today,” and Mr. O’Toole was “at a site.”

He’d evidently taken a different car to the “site.”

“Two Ferraris?” I cried. “They have two?”

“Of course it’s entirely possible that Olivia’s uncle’s construction business is doing so well financially that he bought those Ferraris with their own money and not the child support money your father meant for your sister,” Tina said.

It’s amazing how she can see the best in everyone, including her boyfriend (the fact that he may have cheated on her aside).

“I saw their tax returns from the last five years,” Lilly said. “The business is doing well, but not that well.”

I got out of the limo without even waiting for François to open the car door for me, then stalked up to Olivia’s aunt’s front door and rang the bell.