The Duchess Diaries: The Diplomat's Pregnant Bride / Her Unforgettable Royal Lover / The Texan's Royal M.D.

“Oz the Great and Powerful,” she dutifully asserted.

“Right. Oz the Great and Powerful. It’s a Disney flick starring Rachel Weisz and...”

More finger snaps.

“Mila Kunis.”

“Right. Mila Kunis. That’s the music the clients requested.” The scowl deepened. “Hell, no, I don’t! Hold on.”

He whipped his head around and barked at Gina. “You the new AC?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Samuel DeGrange.”

“Nice to...”

He brushed aside the pleasantries with an impatient hand. “Go upstairs and tell the DJ to pull his head out of his ass. The clients don’t want Dorothy and Toto, for God’s sake! Then make sure the bar supervisor knows how to mix the fizzy green juice concoction that’s supposed to make the kids think they’re dancing down a new, improved Yellow Brick Road.”

* * *

Eight and a half hours later Gina was zipped into the Glinda the Good Witch costume that had been rented for her predecessor and making frantic last-minute changes to seating charts. Kallie the receptionist—now garbed as a munchkin—wielded a calligraphy pen to scribble out place cards for the twenty additional guests the honoree’s mother had somehow forgotten she’d invited until she was in the limo and on her way from Temple with the newly bat mitzvahed Rachel.

* * *

Another six hours later, Gina collapsed into a green-draped chair and gazed at the rubble. Iridescent streamers in green and gold littered the dance floor. Scattered among them was a forgotten emerald tiara here, an empty party-favors box there. The booths where the seventy-five kids invited to celebrate Rachel’s coming of age had fired green lasers and demolished video villains were being dismantled. Only a few crumbs remained of the fourteen-layer cake with its glittering towers and turrets. The kids invited to the party had devoured it with almost as much gusto as the more than two hundred parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and family friends had drained the open bar upstairs.

Gina stretched out her feet in their glittery silver slippers and aimed a grin at the toothpick-thin Tin Man who flopped into the chair beside her.

“This party business is fun.”

“You think?” Samuel shoved back his tin hat and gave her a jaundiced smile. “Talk to me again after you’ve had an inebriated best man puke all over you. Or spent two hours sifting through piles of garbage to find a guest’s diamond-and-sapphire earrings. Which, incidentally, she calls to tell you she found in her purse.”

“At least she let you know she found it,” Gina replied, laughing.

“She’s one of the few. Seems like our insurance rates take another jump after every event.” He slanted her a sideways glance. “You did good tonight, St. Sebastian. Better than I expected when I read your resumé.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“You need to keep a closer finger on the pulse of the party, though. The natives got a little restless before the cake was brought out.”

Gina bit her lip. No need to remind her new boss that he’d sent her out to the terrace to shepherd some underage smokers back inside right when the cake was supposed to have been presented.

“I’ll watch the timing,” she promised.

“So go home now. I’ll do the final bar count and leave this mess to the cleaning crew.”

She wasn’t about to argue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Nine sharp,” he warned. “We’ve got a preliminary wedding consult. I’ll talk, you listen and learn.”

She popped a salute. “Yes, sir.”

“Christ! You got enough energy left for that?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just shooed her away. “Get out of here.”

* * *

The Oz the Great and Powerful bat mitzvah set the stage for the dozens of events that followed during the busy, busy month of May. Almost before she knew it Gina was caught up in a whirl of wedding and engagement and anniversary and graduation and coming-of-age parties. She gained both experience and confidence with each event.

So much so that Samuel soon delegated full responsibility for computing and placing orders with the subs for everything from decorations to bar stock. He also tapped her for fresh ideas for themes and settings. In rapid succession she helped plan a white-on-white wedding, a red-and-black “Puttin’ on the Ritz” debutante ball and a barefoot-on-the-beach engagement party at a private Hamptons estate. And then there was her grand coup—snaring Justin Bieber for a brief appearance at the national Girl Scout banquet to be held in the fall. He was in town for another event and Gina played shamelessly on his agent’s heartstrings until every teen’s favorite heartthrob agreed.

Not all events went smoothly. Frantically working her cell phone and walkie-talkie, Gina learned to cope with minor crises like a forgotten kosher meal for the rabbi, a groom caught frolicking in the fourth-floor bridal suite shower with the maid of honor and a drunken guest held hostage by an irate limo driver demanding payment for damage done to the vehicle’s leather seats.

In the midst of all the craziness she unpacked the boxes Dev’s assistant had shipped back from L.A. and welcomed her sister and her new brother-in-law home from their honeymoon. Gina and Sarah and the duchess were all teary-eyed when the newlyweds departed again, this time to look at homes for sale close to Dev’s corporate headquarters in California.

Miracle of miracles, Gina also managed to snag an appointment with the top OB doc on the short list of three Jack had emailed. She suspected he’d used his influence or family clout to make sure she got in to see one of them. She didn’t object to outside help in this instance. The health of her baby took precedence over pride.

As promised, she called Jack’s office to let him know about the appointment. A secretary routed her to his chief of staff.

“This is Dale Vickers, Ms. St. Sebastian. The ambassador is in conference. May I help you?”

“Jack asked me to let him know the date and time of my prenatal appointment. It’s Thursday of next week, at three-fifteen, with Dr. Sondra Martinson.”

“I’m looking at his calendar now. The ambassador is unavailable next Thursday. Please reschedule the appointment and call me back.”

The reply was as curt as it was officious. Gina held out the phone and looked at it in surprise for a moment before putting it to her ear again.

“Tell you what,” she said, oozing sweetness and light, “just tell Jack to call me. We’ll take it from there.”

The man must have realized his mistake. Softening his tone, he tried to regain lost ground.

“I’m sorry if I sounded abrupt, Ms. St. Sebastian. It’s just that the ambassador is participating all next week in a conference with senior State Department officials. They’re assessing U.S. embassy security in light of recent terrorist attacks. I can’t overstate the importance of this conference to the safety and security of our consular personnel abroad.”

Properly put in her place, Gina was about to concede the point when he made a suggestion.

“Why don’t I call Dr. Martinson’s office and arrange an appointment that fits with the ambassador’s schedule?”

“That won’t work. We need to work around my schedule, too.”

“I’m sure you can squeeze something in between parties for twelve-year-olds.”

The barely disguised put-down dropped Gina’s jaw. What was with this character? Sheer obstinacy had her oozing even more saccharine.

“I’m sure I can. After all, the tab for our last twelve-year-old’s party only ran to sixty-five thousand dollars and change. Just have Jack call me. We’ll work something out.”

“Really, Ms. St. Sebastian, we don’t have to trouble the ambassador with such a trivial matter.”

Heat shot to every one of Gina’s extremities. Given her normally sunny and fun-loving disposition, she’d never believed that old cliché about seeing red. She did now.