“My luck someone would get a picture of me running around in a bikini and title it something unimaginative but equally horrible, like the ‘America’s Hairy Duchess.’” Sam drank more of her water.

“Oh! What about ‘Destitute Duchess Forgoes Wax and Razors’?” Jess laughed.

“Har, har.” Sam snorted.

“And that’s why we’re taking care of it all today.” I grabbed Sam’s arm. “Enough stalling.”

“Let’s do this!” Jess stood up and grabbed Sam’s other arm.

“You two are cruel and I never should have introduced you.” Sam stood up and pulled her arms away from us.

Jess and I placed bets on how Samantha would react to the waxing procedure. I felt sure that Sam would hold it together but Jess didn’t agree. Thankfully, Sam didn’t burst out of the room na**d and half waxed at any point, which is exactly what Jess thought would happen. This meant I won the right to not help Sam if she had to go to the bathroom in the wedding dress. Being crammed in a stall, holding yards of fabric while my sister-in-law relieved herself, really wasn’t something I wanted to do if it could be helped. Instead when she came out of the room she went straight to the kitchen for wine. That was something I could get behind.

Over the last two years I had become very comfortable with Rousseau Manor so I headed straight for the wine cellar while Sam and Jess got glasses. A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have known where the kitchen was, much less the wine, but with the reinstatement of the missing royal families I’d become acquainted with Rousseau very well. When Sam took permanent residence at Rousseau it had meant lots of movie nights, cookouts, and shenanigans. I looked toward the cupboard for food, but didn’t have to worry. Margie, the cook, had left out a tray of snacks for us to munch on.

In triumph, I held up the bottle of red I had found, while Jess cheered.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.” Sam held her hand out. “This has been a traumatic day. I need something to get me through the rest of it.”

“Pansy.” I handed her a glass and poured her a hefty amount. “And next is a massage. Not exactly painful.”

“Pansy, my ass! Tell me again why I couldn’t just get my eyebrows waxed? They feel raw.” Sam touched her forehead gently before she drank some of her wine. “And don’t even get me started about the torture I just went through. I would have rather been put on the rack in the Tower of London.” She winced.

“Threading is the best. Your eyebrows look fantastic.” I didn’t mention that there would be thousands of people taking her picture or that it would be plastered across every magazine in the world. She was already antsy about the guest list and normal stuff—she didn’t need to worry about the media attention.

Samantha’s phone beeped and she pulled it out of her pocket. She frowned before typing quickly.

“What’s wrong?” I leaned forward to peek at her screen.

“The friend I hired to work at the FBT is getting in early. Apparently he made a mistake booking his ticket and will be here tomorrow.”

“Is he staying here?” I sorted through the snacks until I found a carrot stick. “We’re doing the bachelorette thing tomorrow.”

“I know.” Sam frowned. “He was already uncomfortable about staying here, but I don’t want to ask him to stay in town.”

“Eh. It’ll work out.” I smiled and shrugged. “It always does.”

“So, just a massage now?” Sam looked from me to Jess. “I could use a massage.”

“Massage time for everyone.” I smiled and rubbed my hands together. Sam wasn’t the only one who needed to relax.

“Wait a minute! Why do you guys get massages? I’m the one that’s been plucked and skinned alive.” Sam frowned. “I should get all three massages myself.”

“No way, Princess.” I laughed when her face froze. “What? That’s what you’ll be in a few days. Good-bye America’s Duchess and hello America’s Princess.”

“And one day you’ll be America’s Que—” Jess was stopped by the look on Sam’s face.

“Nope. Don’t go there.” Sam shook her head. “One thing at a time. That’s a lot to swallow.”

“You won’t have to worry about that for a long time anyways.” I put my hands on the counter.

“It’s just a lot to take in.” Sam sighed. “It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Meh. It’s worth it.” Jess sat up a little straighter. “You’ve got Prince Yummy.”

“And me!” I lifted my wineglass.

“And Cathy.” Jess laughed. “Not to mention a ridiculous amount of money, awesome job, and fabulous friends.”

“All true.” Sam shook her head. “So you’re saying I should stop my bitching.”

“Exactly.” I laughed.

“Look at us. I’m still in school, barely sleep, and poor Cathy hasn’t had a boyfriend the entire time I’ve known her.” Jess tipped her glass toward me.

Sam looked over at me and frowned, but I shrugged it off. “I’m picky.”

“We get it, Cathy.” Sam sighed. “It’s hard to find someone worth the risk.”

“What risk? I’m not talking about you finding a husband, just someone to spend a little time with.” Jess wiggled her eyebrows. “Take the edge off. How long has it been?”