“Yes, I would totally fist fight my sixteen-year-old sister,” Ashanti said. “No! I just got a call from Channel 6! They want to do a story about Barkingham Palace tomorrow for the morning news.”
“Get the hell outta here,” Ridley said. “I told you Duchess was going to put you on the map one day.”
She’d told her no such thing.
“This livestream video is blowing up way more than I could have ever expected,” Ashanti said. “I need to send that K-pop Instagrammer a gift basket for posting it.”
“Does the news station want you in the studio?” Ridley asked.
“No, they’re coming to the daycare.”
“I’ll be at your house tomorrow morning at five,” Ridley said.
“Why?”
“To do your makeup,” Ridley and Evie said at the same time.
“I can do—”
“Girl, don’t even try to go there,” Evie said. “You cannot be trusted to fix your own face.”
“Hey, I know how to put on makeup. I just don’t,” Ashanti said. The minuscule amount of makeup she owned was at least three years old.
“Okay, so maybe I can use a little help,” Ashanti said. “Be here at four thirty. They asked me to meet them at the daycare for six.”
“Four thirty? Now I’m sorry I offered,” Ridley said.
“I love you too,” Ashanti said. “I’ll talk to you both later. I need to make a call. Evie, I’ll swing by to pick the treats up in a couple of hours.”
“I can bring them,” she said. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”
“You’re the one Ireallylove, Ev,” Ashanti said.
She laughed at Ridley’s obscenity-laced goodbye. She could not buy better friends with all the gold in the world.
Ashanti’s grin quickly turned into a frown as she considered the call she desperately needed to make.
“Just remember, you’re a professional,” she said. Although, there was nothing professional about what she was getting ready to do. She shrugged. It couldn’t be helped.
She used the remote access on her laptop to log in to Barkingham Palace’s system and pulled up Puddin’s account. Later, she would examine the ethics of using the customer database to get a client’s personal cell phone number for nonemergency purposes.
She called Thad before she could talk herself out of doing it.
“Sims,” he answered.
No hello. Just Sims.
“Um, hi,” Ashanti said, actively ignoring her body’s reaction to his voice. My goodness, she could feel the texture of his smooth, deep tone on her skin. “This is Ashanti Wright from Barkingham Palace.”
“Puddin’ is right here with me,” he said, a hint of leeriness in his voice. “On my damn lap, as a matter of fact.”
“Yes, I know,” she said. “I didn’t know he was on your lap, of course. I’m not peeking through your window or anything.”
Oh my God! Shut up!
“Look, I need a really big favor,” Ashanti said. She would need wine after this call.
“From me?” Thad asked.
