So I said, “THANKS, DAD!”
Then I called Claire French and told her I accepted.
The only problem was, by the time I called back, she fully knew who I was.
She said, “This is going to sound strange, but when you said your name was Mia Thermopolis, I thought it sounded familiar, so—please don’t be offended—I Googled you. You wouldn’t happen to be Princess Mia Thermopolis of Genovia by any chance, would you?”
My heart totally sank.
“Um,” I said.
The thing is, even though I’m a totally habitual liar, I knew there was no point in lying to her about this. She was going to find out eventually. Like when I sent in my author photo or met her for a fancy editor-author lunch or my pit bull lawyers used the Genovian crest notary or whatever.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I am. But I didn’t send my book out under my real name because I didn’t want it to be published just because of my celebrity, you know? I wanted to see if people liked it based on its own merits, not because of who wrote it. I hope you can understand that.”
“Oh,” Claire said. “I completely understand! And you don’t need to worry, I had no idea it was you when I read it, or when I made you the offer. The thing is, though…well, the name Daphne Delacroix…it actually sounds very fake, and the last name—Delacroix—is hard for Americans to pronounce correctly. Whereas your real name is much more recognizable and memorable. I assume you’re not doing this for any sort of financial gain—”
“No,” I said, horrified. “I’m donating my author proceeds to Greenpeace!”
“Well, the truth is,” Claire said, “you’d have a lot more author proceeds to donate if you let us publish the book under your real name.”
I clutched the phone to my ear, feeling sort of stunned. “You mean…Mia Thermopolis?”
“I was thinking Mia Thermopolis, princess of Genovia.”
“Well…” My heart was beating kind of fast. I remembered what Grandmère had said, about being sure not to use my real name. She was going to hate this, I thought. She was going to hate it so much if I published a steamy romance novel under my real name!
On the other hand…everyone in school would see it. Everyone in school would see my book and go, “Oh my God. I know her! I went to school with her.”
And it wasn’t as if Claire had bought the book knowing it was by me…but readers would. Think of all the money that would go to Greenpeace!
“I think that would be fine,” I said.
“Great!” Claire said. “That’s settled then. I look forward to working with you, Mia.”
It was the most fantastic phone call of all time. It almost made me forget that J.P. and I had sort of had a little fight and that I was going to have a very scary lunch with Michael very soon.
I’m a published author. Well, soon to be.
And no one can take that away from me. NO ONE!
Friday, May 5, 12:15 p.m., the loft
M—Fashion 911, here to the rescue. You need to wear your Chip & Pepper jeans and your pink and black Alice + Olivia sequined top with that purple motorcycle jacket we picked out at Jeffrey and those super cute Prada platforms with the fringy things. Got it? Don’t overdo it on the makeup because I think he likes the natural type (whatever) and not chandelier earrings this time, go for studs, oooooh what about those cute little cherries I got you for your birthday? So appropriate for you HA HA HA!
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Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device
No! I think that’s all too much! By the way I’m getting my book published!
It’s not too much, just do what I say, don’t forget to curl your eyelashes, YAY ON PUT IT IN MY CANDYHOLE! What color are you wearing to prom?
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Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device
I don’t know yet, Sebastiano is sending over a couple things. The Prada platforms are too much. I think I’ll go with boots. It’s not called Put It in My Candyhole, I told you.
NO! IT IS MAY. NO BOOTS AT LUNCH. You may compromise with adorable velvet flats.
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Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device
Okay, you’re right about the flats. THANK YOU! I HAVE TO GO!!!! I’m late. I’m so nervous!!!!
Don’t worry. Trisha and I are going to be taking a boat out and may row by to check on you.
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Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device
NO! LANA!!! NO!!!! DO NOT COME BY!!! If you do, I will never speak to you again.
BYE!!! Have fun!
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Sent from my BlackBerry wireless device
Friday, May 5, 12:55 p.m., limo on the way to Central Park
I will stay away from Michael.
I will not hug him.
I will not even shake his hand.
I will not do anything that could, in any way, result in my smelling him, and losing control of myself, and doing something I might regret.
Not that it matters, because he doesn’t like me that way. Anymore. He thinks of me as just a friend.
But I mean, I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.
And anyway, I have a boyfriend. Who really, really loves me. Enough to want what’s best for me.