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“Grace, I assure you, I am indeed Prince Oliver of Verdana, and I am quite serious about hiring you,” I insisted, feeling my frustration mount. “Please hear me out.”
She sighed in my ear. “Just leave me alone . . . please.” Her voice was cracking as she spoke this time.
Wait, was she going to cry?
“Just answer this,” I said. “Are you taking on new clients?”
“I know what you’re doing,” Grace said. “You saw videos of me online, and you called to have a little fun. Well, I’m sorry to tell you that you’re not being original. You’re the third person to call today for the sole purpose of being cruel. If you have any heart at all, leave me alone. Please.”
“You’ve got me all wrong—hang on,” I said, taking a selfie with my phone and texting it to her. “Check your phone. I just took a picture of myself, so you can see that it’s really me.”
“Big deal—I can text you a picture of Taylor Swift and tell you it’s me,” Grace said. “This proves nothing.”
“Fair enough,” I said as Veronica and Dante watched me with curiosity on their faces. “I suppose my word alone isn’t sufficient proof for a total stranger. Let me provide you with a photo known only to the inner royal circle.” I rapidly searched my phone before continuing. “There. I just sent you a rather embarrassing snapshot of myself learning to cook homemade macaroni and cheese with our palace chef. As you’ll see, I’m an absolute mess with melted cheese covering my apron. Now surely even you can admit such an undignified image would never be leaked to the public. If my mother, the queen, knew this photo existed, she’d be horrified, and I’d likely face banishment to muck out the royal stables for a month. Now, do you believe it’s me?”
Veronica and Dante exchanged amused glances as we all waited for Grace to say something, anything, really.
There was silence on the other end of the call.
“Hello? Grace?” I said.
She was laughing.
Hysterically.
I looked up at Veronica and Dante, but they both shrugged, clearly as confused as I was.
“Okay, I see you’re amused by the photo, but I wouldn’t say that it’s funny. Slightly entertaining? Yes. Interesting? Sure.”
Grace tried to speak while continuing to laugh. “I didn’t see any macaroni. You sent me the ‘Macarena.’ Or I should say, a video of you attempting to do the dance. Holy smokes! Are you wearing a coconut bra?” More laughter from her.
“What?!” I said, tapping back to my text messages, my eyes going wide. “Good heavens. That was a video from our Christmas party. It shouldn’t even exist anymore. I command you to delete that at once.”
“I shall not!” Grace shot back defiantly, still laughing. “You look like a drunk octopus who lost control of his tentacles.”
Veronica and Dante were now howling with laughter.
I placed my index finger over my mouth to quiet them down, then shot them both an indignant glare. That made Veronica laugh harder, covering her mouth as she snorted and giggled. Dante slapped his knee, wheezing with breathless laughter at my embarrassment.
“Thank you,” Grace said. “I really needed a good laugh. Especially today. Is there somebody there with you?”
I wasn’t expecting that question.
“Just the television,” I lied. “Please . . . let’s get back to the reason for my call. I want to hire you to plan my wedding.”
“Why me?” she asked.
Another question I wasn’t expecting.
“Because—I’ve seen what’s happening to you on social media and in the news,” I said. “People deserve second chances, don’t you think?”
More silence from her end of the call.
“Grace?” I said.
“I’m here.”
“Does ten thousand dollars for one month sound reasonable?” I asked. “All expenses paid, of course. First class flight, all meals, anything extra that you need, consider it done.”
