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“And I cannot abide leather furniture,” she said, pointing to a very nice club chair in the corner. “It’s far too slippery, and Rommel dislikes it. The smell makes him nervous. He was kicked in the head by a cow once.”
“I’ll have the chair re-covered at once, madam,” the concierge said. He caught my eye, and nodded politely in my direction. But then he turned back to Grandmère. “Perhaps in the same material as the curtains?”
Grandmère looked even more taken aback. “Why, yes…yes, that would be acceptable.”
“And would Your Highness care for tea,” Jonathan Greer wanted to know, “as I see your granddaughter has arrived? Service for two can be brought immediately. Finger sandwiches or scones or both?”
Grandmère looked like she might pass out, she was so astonished. “Both, of course,” she said. “And Earl Grey tea.”
“Absolutely,” Jonathan Greer said, as if there were no other kind. “And perhaps a cocktail for you, Your Highness? I believe a Sidecar—served in a stemmed cocktail glass, no sugar on the rim—is your preference?”
Grandmère had to sit down. She did it gracefully—well, except for the part where she almost sat on Rommel. But he got out of the way in the nick of time. It’s not like he hasn’t had plenty of practice.
“That would be lovely,” she said faintly.
“Anything that we can do to make your stay in the Royal Suite more pleasurable, Your Highness,” Jonathan Greer said, with a bow. “You need only call.”
And with that, he stepped smartly out of the room and into the hallway—where I saw my dad, out of Grandmère’s sight, slip the guy a folded-up bill and murmur his thanks.
Wow. My dad can be slick sometimes.
“So,” he said to Grandmère, as he strolled back into the room. “What do you think? Does this place meet with your approval?”
“It’s called the Royal Suite,” Grandmère said, still a bit faintly.
“Indeed it is,” my dad said. “Three bedrooms of luxury for you, Rommel, and your maid. I hope you approve. Look…there’s even an ashtray.”
Grandmère blinked at the crystal bowl he held up. “There are roses,” she said. “Pink and white. In vases everywhere.”
“Well, look at that,” Dad said. “So there are. Do you think you can stand to live here until your condo at the Plaza is completed?”
Grandmère rallied herself. “I suppose it will be tolerable,” she said. “Though hardly what I’m used to.”
“Of course not,” Dad said. “But sometimes in life we must suffer. Mia. How are you?”
I jumped away from the window, which I’d been looking out of. We were on the thirty-second floor, and I have to say that the view, while beautiful, wasn’t doing much for the vomity feeling I was kind of pushing down.
I didn’t just feel like throwing up, either. There was fluttering going on in my stomach. It was like there was one of those hummingbirds, that sometimes hover around outside my window back in Genovia, trapped inside my abdomen.
I’m sure this was just nervous anticipation of the ecstasy I am bound to experience tonight in Michael’s arms.
“I’m fine,” I said to my dad. Too fast, though, since he gave me a strange look.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “You look…pale.”
“I’m good,” I said. “Just, um, ready for today’s princess lesson!”
My dad gave me an even STRANGER look at that. I have NEVER been ready for a princess lesson. EVER.
“Oh, Amelia,” Grandmère groaned, from her couch. “I haven’t the time or patience today. Jeanne and I have so much unpacking to do.” Which translates from Grandmère speak to My maid, Jeanne, has to unpack while I, the dowager princess, boss her a
round. “I need to get settled before I can think of more things to teach you. This constant moving about has been VERY unsettling. Not just for me, but for Rommel, as well.”
We all looked at Rommel, who had curled into a ball at the end of the couch and was snoring fitfully, while he dreamed of being far, far away from Grandmère.
“Well, Mother,” Dad said. “Now that you have Mr. Greer looking after you, I feel as if I can leave you for a bit—”
Grandmère just snorted. “Which lucky Victoria’s Secret lingerie model is it tonight, Phillipe?” she wanted to know. Then, before he could even answer, she went on to say, “Amelia, all of this rushing around town has wreaked havoc on my pores. I’m going to have a facial. Princess lessons are canceled for the day.”
