Helga blinked. Then, for the first time in her career, she wrote something down without arguing.
“Wonderful!” Grandmère clapped. “We’ll seat him next to the Duchess of Vonn. She’s deaf. He can talk about tractors all night.”
“Hey yourself,” I whispered back.
The real nightmare, however, wasn't the tiara. It was the guest list.
Michael rubbed his temples. “Last time my dad wore a tie, it was to a tractor pull. He’ll show up in a flannel shirt and boots.” meg cabot royal wedding
Michael kissed my forehead. “That’s my girl.”
“My dad?” Michael set down his fork. “He lives in Ohio. He sells used tractors. He thinks ‘Genovia’ is a brand of olive oil.” Helga blinked
“Florals,” Helga barked, flipping to tab fourteen. “Princess, you requested peonies. But peonies are out of season. We have substituted carnations.”