An old blue Mercedes pulls up to the curb outside baggage claim. The passenger window zooms down to reveal a sophisticated-looking old woman on the driver’s side. She’s leaning over the center console dressed in black with a gold ascot around her neck.

“Hello, my beautiful wild granddaughter, it’s great to have you back. Get the hell in here.”

I blink at her. “Grams?”

She blinks back at me a couple of times … sarcastically. “Yes? Are you coming in?” She retreats back to her seat.

Dawn yanks open the back door and slides in like she’s part of the family. I hesitate with my fingers on the handle.

Dawn leans forward over the center console. “Jame, you okay? Get in the car.”

I get in.

As soon as my butt touches the seat, Grams puts the car into drive. I fumble for my seat belt.

“Granddaughter, I made you a hair appointment to fix your bird’s nest. Your father got you an audition for something next week, and he’s insisting you return to blond today as per your agreement.”

Blond? Agreement?

Jamie’s Chocolate comes to life in the pocket over my chest.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZIT.

I go still as Grams pulls away from the curb. BZZZZZZZZZZIT. Excrement. I can’t have an absurd glitter glamour magic conversation with Jamie, in this car, with Grams and Dawn.

BZZZZZZZZZZIT.

“Are you going to get that or not?” Dawn leans up from the back seat.

“Um, not.” I shrug.

“Who is it?” Grams asks.

BZZZZZZZZIT.

“A friend from the retreat. But we can talk later.”

Grams shoots me a quick look. “You made a friend?”

Dawn falls back with a laugh. “Jamie always makes friends. It’s her MO.”

The ringing seems to have stopped. Thank the heavens.

“Anyone special, this friend?” Grams asks.

Jamie never answers questions she doesn’t want to. How do I do that?

“Umm … special to who?” I throw back. Wow.

“To thy Queen of England perhaps?” Dawn jumps in to save me with her random Shakespeare accent.

My heart does a little wiggle. I channel Jamie the best I can. “I actually did meet Prince Harry. Nice chap, but married dudes aren’t really … my speed.” Oof.

We fall into silence.

BZZZZZZIT.

My hand flies up to clutch at my chest.

“I think Prince Harry needs you,” Grams snarks.

BZZZZZIT.

“Just pick it up, Jame, jeezus,” Dawn pipes up from behind me.

BZZZZZIT.

Fine. I snatch the thing from my pocket and slide it open like Jamie showed me at the airport.

“Hello … um, hey hey hey,” I add belatedly. I feel Dawn lean forward to listen.

“Pail, what’s your emergency because I, too, am experiencing a call-worthy event!” Jamie says quickly.

“Did Prince Harry just call you Pail?” Dawn pipes in. I lean away from her.

Jamie said we should use code names. I’m Pail and she’s Bucket.

“Prince Harry, I can’t really talk—”