“There’s nothing weird about him. Look, I’m just going to tell you straight out because I don’t know any other way to do it. You know how over here in Europe they have like—monarchies?Like, they have actual kings and queens, and princes and princesses?”
Dree’s parents looked at each other and then looked at Dree. Her mother said, “We read books. We know what a monarchy is, dear child.”
“Well, Maxence’s government job, which he told you that he has, is that he’s the Prince of Monaco. He works for the government because heisthe government. He’s the whole government.”
Dree’s parents frowned at each other for a moment and then turned back to the camera. Her father asked, “He’s not the king?”
“Monaco doesn’t have a king. A prince is as high as they go.”
Her mother leaned toward the phone. “Oh honey, I think he must be trying to deceive you. I know that’s what happened with Francis, but maybe you just attract boys like that. You just pack your bags and come on home, and we’ll take care of you. We’ll help you through this one.”
“Mama!He really is the Prince of Monaco. Look him up online or something.”
“Honey, honey-child, you need to get over these delusions. Come on home, and you can talk to Sister Annunciata about it. She’ll set you straight.”
“I’m serious!I’m sitting here in the Prince’s Palace in Monaco right now! I watched his enthronement ceremony last week where there was a whole bunch of people here, and they bowed down to him and everything!”
Her parents were still shaking their heads sadly at her.
“I’m telling you the truth!” she insisted.
Her father said, “We know youthinkyou’re telling us the truth, but these are wild and outlandish claims, Andrea. You need to pack your suitcase and come on home now.” He crouched closer to the phone. “Is he giving you drugs?”
At that moment, Maxence walked into the apartment, pulling his tie from around his collar as he headed toward the bedroom.
“Maxence!” Dree yelled across the room. “Come on over here and tell my parents who you are. They don’t believe me.”
Maxence sauntered over, smiling. “You told them about the prince thing?”
“I’mtryingto.”
Maxence leaned down beside her, and a whiff of his aftershave puffed from his shirt collar and brushed Dree’s face with the clean scent of a garden beside the fresh, clean Mediterranean sea. He said, “I’m afraid it’s true, Mr. and Mrs. Clark. My grandmother was Grace Kelly. She met my grandfather, Prince Rainier III, while she was here in Monaco filmingTo Catch a Thiefwith Cary Grant.”
Dree could hear her parents gasp all the way from New Mexico.
Her father asked, his tone wistful, “Did you ever meet Cary Grant?”
“Sadly, I didn’t,” Maxence said. “But we have the car the two of them drove inTo Catch a Thiefhere in a museum in Monaco.”
Bartholomew Clark put his hand over his heart.“Cary Grant’s car.”
Dree said to him, “I’ll take you to see it when you’re here in Monaco for the wedding.”
Her father appeared to have trouble swallowing.
Maxence’s voice was lower, more seductive, as he said, “I’ll let you drive it.”
Her father sighed and wiped his eye. “It would be my greatest honor.”
After they hung up, Maxence was still laughing. “I can’t believe how much your father is obsessed with Cary Grant andTo Catch A Thief.”
“Well, of course,” Dree said. “That’s where my middle name,Grace,comes from.”
Maxence stopped laughing. “You’renamedaftermy grandmother?”
“Just my middle name.”
“That’s quite enough, don’t you think?”
