You’re Invited Too by Jen Malone and Gail Nall Read Free Book Online Page A

her karaoke-singing time is over.
    Poor Vi. She’s still all worked up about how things went down on Founder’s Day with Lance, no matter how many times me and Lauren and Becca pinkie swear with her that he was only dancing with Linney to be polite. What’s way weirder is how unlike Vi it is to obsess over a boy like this.
    I’m halfway through typing my Hey crazypants, Lance clearly digs you and only you response when the phone actually rings. Not good. My friends all subscribe to the “text is best” motto, so the ring can only mean one thing.
    I groan at the image of a screech monkey on my screen and slide to answer as I speed-walk upstairs, to get as far away from Izzy as I possibly can.
    â€œHello, Miss Worthington!” I muster all the fake enthusiasm I can. I may not make it past November’s wedding date.
    â€œSadie-babe, I was thinking.”
    A large percentage of Alexandra Worthington’s phone calls start out exactly like this. It never leads to anything good.
    â€œMmm-hmm,” I murmur politely.
    â€œYou know how we were talking about a dessert bar with all different options, in addition to the wedding cake?”
    â€œSure. Yes.”
    â€œWell,” says Alexandra Worthington, in her excited voice. Uh-oh. That’s never a good voice. “I remembered these absolutely divine éclairs Ike and I had on our trip to Paris last year. He must have eaten six!”
    I’m not that shocked. I’ve seen a picture of Ike, and he definitely looks like he could pack away an éclair or six.
    â€œI thought it would be a lovely surprise for him if we included those on the buffet. I already tracked down the particular patisserie in the fifth arrondissement, and they’ve agreed. Now, the only slight hiccup here is that they don’t deliver, so I’d need one of you to pop over and grab them the day before the wedding. What do you think? Wouldn’t they be divine?”
    Slight hiccup? Pop over? “Um, I’m sorry. When you say ‘pop over,’ do you mean . . . um, to Paris, France ?”
    â€œOf course. And really, if whichever of you goes could take the red-eye back, that would be even better, because that way the éclairs could stay as fresh as possible, don’t you think?”
    â€œOh, uh. I’m . . . I’m pretty sure none of us has a passport, but also, um, I don’t think our parents would let us fly to Paris alone. But, uh, we have a new French kid in our class this year, and maybe I could ask him if he knows anything about éclairs that he could teach Vi. She can make anything . She’s amazing.”
    I can’t ever tell Becca I passed up an opportunity for her to get to Paris. It’s practically her life’s mission.
    Alexandra Worthington is quiet for a second, and then she says brightly, “ C’est la vie! Let’s do that. Okay, now. Have I ever talked to you about peacocks? I love them. I was thinking maybe we could rent a few to wander the grounds during the reception. Peacocks are the ones with all the feathers, right?”
    It takes me another five minutes to talk Alexandra Worthington into framing peacock feathers to display on the gift table instead, but I finally hit end on the call. Vi must think I’ve fallen into the cove outside my front door. I switch back to my text, but before I can type a thing, I hear a car door slam outside.
    YIPES!
    I tear down the stairs, forgetting I’m wearing fuzzy socks and throwing my arm over the banister to slow myself as I slip down the last three steps. I shout to Izzy, who’s lounging on the couch with an American Girl catalog.
    â€œIz, can you help me put all this away before Mom gets up here?”
    â€œWhy do you have to put your art homework away? Wouldn’t Mom be happy to see you doing school stuff?”
    I puff my bangs out of my eyes and take a deep breath. “Can you just help me,