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CHAPTER 12
9:25 a.m., Friday, May 1
Third-Floor Apartment
Consulate General of Genovia
Rate the Royals Rating: 5
Was getting out of the shower when I got the following text(s):
Michael Moscovitz “FPC”: Picking you up in exactly one hour for a birthday surprise. Take the bag Marie Rose has packed for you and meet me in the consulate lobby. Don’t bring your laptop. There’s no Internet where we’re going.
Before I could text back that I couldn’t possibly do as he asked, I got this:
Don’t argue. Just do it.
Then this:
P.S. Make sure she’s packed that bikini you wore to the beach last New Year’s. The white one.
He added an emoji of a penguin experiencing what appeared to be a fatal myocardial infarction, since its heart was exploding from its body.
I think this was meant to show love or possibly lust, not a marine animal suffering a brutal death, though I’m not entirely sure. Guys are so odd, especially guys who work with computers (and robots) all day, like Michael does, and also like to design their own emojis as a hobby.
I know Michael meant his new emoji to be funny, but considering how Mr. G. died, it’s a little insensitive.
Wait . . .
Could this be what’s behind that strange shadow in his eyes? Simply that he’s been plotting something behind my back?
No.
What kind of place doesn’t have Internet access, though? Does that mean it also doesn’t have cable television? What if it really is a yoga/meditation retreat?
God, I hope not. Michael knows I freak out if I go too long without television. It’s embarrassing to admit, but television is my drug of choice. And how will I be able to keep abreast with what’s happening on all the NCISs in Qalif?
CHAPTER 13
9:45 a.m., Friday, May 1
Third-Floor Apartment
Consulate General of Genovia
Rate the Royals Rating: 5
Just dialed Michael’s cell, but he wouldn’t pick up.
So then I phoned his office number, but his latest assistant (Michael goes through assistants the way I go through tea bags, only because he keeps promoting them, not because he’s dunked them in boiling water) said he was in a town car headed up to see me.
“Do 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.
• 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:
