“Half-sister,” Beatrice corrected. “Look, I’m a stepsister, which is even lower than a half-sibling, but if my older stepbrother Royce’s girlfriend didn’t come to my birthday party, I’d get over it and we’re supes tight. Eleabore is your bf’s problem, not yours. And remember, everything can be solved if you throw enough money at it. Get her a PEGG.” Anna looked at her, confused. “A preemptive guilt gift … My dad’s the king of such things. I knew exactly when he was gonna miss one of my birthdays because I’d get some super-mongo gift ahead of time. He bought me an alpaca when he was gonna miss my tenth birthday. Hell, I was hoping he’d have to go to London for my sweet sixteen so he’d buy me a Bentley.”

Anna’s father didn’t do the pre-emptive strike thing but would instead show up with a GGAF, guilt gift after the fact. When he came home from Singapore two days ago, he brought her a new orange ostrich Birkin bag because he felt bad for missing Westminster.

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You deserve to have your own life, too. I know there’s way more to Anna K. than being Alexander W.’s perfect girlfriend, hell I danced with her just the other night. Dig deep and rescue your inner party-girl, ’cause my bash is gonna be fun as fuck. I’d tell you what Vronsky’s planning to wear, but he’d Marie Antoinette me in a flash.” Beatrice dropped an imaginary guillotine over her neck and made a cartoonish dead-queen-walking face.

At the mention of Vronsky’s name, Anna’s suspicions were confirmed. When she first opened Bea’s Evite, the first thing she thought was that the timing seemed odd. Beatrice was known for her parties, but they were usually planned far more in advance than this one. Alexia asked his cousin to throw a party so he could see me! She couldn’t be certain, but she knew it was true.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there. I just have to figure out how to deal with Eleanor,” Anna said. Bea was right, it’s not like she was married to Alexander. She was only seventeen!

“God help me for saying this, but you can bring the hand-washing Jesus freak if you must.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Anna said, holding up a stop-palm. “She’s the worst at parties. My brother calls her a fun-Roomba. Speaking of, did you…”

“Invite your brother? Of course I did,” Bea purred, happy that everything was going exactly as she knew it would. “You know … if you and my cousin end up together, I’d be thrilled to have you and your hunky soupdumpling big brother in the fam.”

Anna blanched at Beatrice’s directness, but she didn’t let on as she found her place in the book she was reading.