by Meg Cabot
“What?” Ruth sounded majorly disappointed. “Why not?”
“Um, because it’s my wedding, and I’m not having any bridesmaids,” I pointed out. “You can be my witness, if you want.”
“Do I get to wear a cute dress?”
“You can wear whatever you want. I don’t care.”
“Your mom,” Ruth said, “is going to be so disappointed in this whole affair, I can just tell. But I’m really happy for you.”
“Yeah,” I said sarcastically. “Because now you get to share your room with Mike and not me.”
“Shut up,” Ruth said, laughing. “You were an awesome roommate. Well, except for the night terrors. Speaking of terror, how’s your mom coping with it, anyway?”
“She’ll be all right,” I said. Because I knew she would be. Eventually.
“Does Douglas know?”
“Not yet. Rob and I are meeting him and Tasha for lunch in—” I looked at the time. “Right now, actually. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. And, Ruth?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I be your bridesmaid? When you marry Mike?”
Ruth, as I’d known she would, screamed happily again and hung up. Smiling, I went to the garage and pulled out my bike, then cruised on over to Wilkins Auto and Motorcycle Repair. I can’t say that, when I pulled up to the light on First and Main, and noticed Karen Sue Hankey in the white convertible in the lane next to me, I was particularly surprised. I raised the face shield of my helmet and yelled, “Karen Sue!”
She looked over at me, startled. “Jess?”
“Hey,” I said. “Sorry about blowing you off yesterday. I had a lot on my mind.”
“I know,” Karen Sue said unsmilingly. “I read the paper this morning.”
“So,” I said. “Want to reschedule?”
“Sure,” Karen Sue said. “When are you leaving to go back to New York?”
“Oh,” I said. “Never.”
Karen Sue’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“I’m staying here,” I said with a shrug.
“Here?” Karen Sue looked shocked. “Why?”
“Because,” I said. The light turned green. “I’m engaged to a local business owner. Call me!”
I left Karen Sue sitting at the light in shock. When I glanced in my rearview mirror before making the turn into the parking lot of Rob’s garage, I saw that she was still sitting there, openmouthed, a line of cars behind her, honking.
Rob had done a lot, I saw at a glance, to his uncle’s garage. For one thing, the place was a lot cleaner. And for another, they were servicing European cars as well as American and Japanese models. In fact, as I walked up, I saw Rob in gray coveralls, bent over the engine of a butter-colored Mercedes coupe, behind the wheel of which sat a woman with a lot of blond hair who looked a little familiar, though I couldn’t place her face. At first.
“Try it again,” Rob said to the blonde, who obediently switched on her ignition.
The motor purred to life. Rob, looking satisfied, put the hood down.
“It was just your starter again,” he said, reaching for a rag to wipe the grease from his hands. “It shouldn’t give you any more trouble. Just—”
But he didn’t get to finish, because the blonde had leaped out of the car and hurled herself against him, throwing both arms around his neck.
“Oh, Rob! You are such a miracle worker!” she cried. “I can’t thank you enough!”
And then she laid a great, big kiss on his mouth.
Which is the exact moment when his startled gaze met mine.
And I instantly knew where I’d seen her before.
It was Miss Boobs-As-Big-As-My-Head. Her most memorable attributes, I saw when she finally released Rob and turned around, were clothed in the skimpiest halter top imaginable.
But this time, I didn’t run. This time I crossed the garage until I was standing right in front of her. Then, tilting my head so I could see into her heavily mascaraed eyes, I said, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jess, Rob’s fiancée.”
Boobs-As-Big-As-My-Head smiled at me in a befuddled way and said, without introducing herself, “Rob’s engaged?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He is. And if you ever try to kiss him like that again, I’ll crack your head open with a socket wrench. Got it?”
The blonde stopped smiling.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes going very wide. “Um. Yeah. I got it. I’m. Uh. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I’m just a very affectionate person, and I tend to—”
“Well,” I said with a friendly wink. “Now you do know. So knock it off.”
The blonde looked questioningly at Rob, who was looking amused. And a little bit relieved.
I guess I couldn’t blame him for either.
“You can pay at the counter over there, Nancy,” he said. “Jake has your bill.”
“Okay,” Boobs-As-Big-As-My-Head said, blinking rapidly. “Thanks again, Rob. Nice to meet you, um, Jess. And, um. I’m really sorry. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Nice meeting you,” I said. “Come back soon.”
On her way to the counter, Nancy nearly tripped over her own platform heels, she was in such a hurry to get away from me. I looked up at Rob, and said, “Guess what?”
“What?” he asked, still grinning.
“I’m not broken anymore,” I said.
“I noticed,” he said, grinning more broadly. “What happened to the whole nonviolence thing?”
“I didn’t hit her,” I said. “Did you see me hit her? I just threatened, is all.”
“You sure did. That was some real self-restraint you exercised, as a matter of fact. So. Is it time for lunch?”
“Time for lunch.”
“Just let me wash up. Hey, so the guys and I were wondering. Now that you have your powers back, does this mean if we have kids, you’re always going to know where to find them?”
I thought about it. “Yes,” I said.
“What about me?” He put his arms around my waist. “Are you always going to know where to find me?”
“Oh, yes,” I said, grinning back at him. “Now that I’ve found the person who’s been missing the longest of all, anyway.”
“Who’s that?” Rob asked, curious.
“Myself,” I said. And hugged him.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Jennifer Brown, John Henry Dreyfuss, Laura Langlie, Amanda Maciel, Abby McAden, and Ingrid van der Leeden.
About the Author
MEG CABOT is the author of the bestselling, critically acclaimed Princess Diaries books, which were made into the wildly popular Disney movies of the same name. Her other books for teens include the Mediator series, the 1-800-Where-R-You books, ALL-AMERICAN GIRL, READY OR NOT, TEEN IDOL, AVALON HIGH, and HOW TO BE POPULAR, as well as NICOLA AND THE VISCOUNT and VICTORIA AND THE ROGUE. She also writes books for adults, including THE BOY NEXT DOOR, BOY MEETS GIRL, EVERY BOY’S GOT ONE, SIZE 12 IS NOT FAT, and QUEEN OF BABBLE. She currently lives in Key West and New York City with her husband and a primary one-eyed cat named Henrietta, as well as assorted backup cats.
Visit Meg’s website at: www.megcabot.com
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Books by
MEG CABOT
THE 1-800-WHERE-R-YOU BOOKS:
1: WHEN LIGHTNING STRIKES
2: CODE NAME CASSANDRA
3: SAFE HOUSE
4: SANCTUARY
5: MISSING YOU
THE MEDIATOR BOOKS:
THE MEDIATOR 1: SHADOWLAND
THE MEDIATOR 2: NINTH KEY
THE MEDIATOR 3: REUNION
THE MEDIATOR 4: DARKEST HOUR
THE MEDIATOR 5: HAUNTED
THE MEDIATOR 6: TWILIGHT
ALL-AMERICAN GIRL
READY OR NOT: AN ALL-AMERICAN GIRL NOVEL
TEEN IDOL
HOW TO BE POPULAR
AVALON HIGH
NICOLA AND THE VISCOU
NT
VICTORIA AND THE ROGUE
THE PRINCESS DIARIES
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME II:
PRINCESS IN THE SPOTLIGHT
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME III:
PRINCESS IN LOVE
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME IV:
PRINCESS IN WAITING
VALENTINE PRINCESS:
A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK (VOLUME IV AND A QUARTER)
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME IV AND A HALF:
PROJECT PRINCESS
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME V:
PRINCESS IN PINK
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME VI:
PRINCESS IN TRAINING
THE PRINCESS PRESENT:
A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK (VOLUME VI AND A HALF)
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME VII:
PARTY PRINCESS
SWEET SIXTEEN PRINCESS:
A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK (VOLUME VII AND A HALF)
THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME VIII:
PRINCESS ON THE BRINK
ILLUSTRATED BY CHESLEY MCLAREN:
PRINCESS LESSONS:
A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK
PERFECT PRINCESS:
A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK
HOLIDAY PRINCESS:
A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK
THE BOY NEXT DOOR
BOY MEETS GIRL
EVERY BOY’S GOT ONE
QUEEN OF BABBLE
SIZE 12 IS NOT FAT
Credits
Cover art © 2007 by Jacquie O’Neill
Cover design by Christopher Stengel
Copyright
MISSING YOU. Copyright © 2006 by Meg Cabot, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub © Edition SEPTEMBER 2009 ISBN: 9780061971815
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2006928091
ISBN-10: 0-06-087430-9—ISBN-13: 978-0-06-087430-8
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