Once Upon a Time...

Part Four

I was woken up the next morning to the loud banging on the door. I opened it, smiling.

"What's wrong with you? Are you feeling okay? I don't think I've ever seen you smile this early," snapped my mother, checking her watch. Then she shrugged.

"You have twenty minutes to get up and dressed for breakfast. Help Maria clean up, because we're having people over at nine o'clock. She needs your help setting up the food and clearing your junk off the dining table. You've been so messy lately. The parade is at three this afternoon, but they want you there an hour in advance for wardrobe, hair, and make-up. After the parade I need you back here because we're meeting with Miranda about your birthday celebration plans. Then you have an appointment with Mario in the gym at five, and shortly after that you'll be meeting with Antonio and Anastasia to get dressed for the concert tonight, which will be at 8:00 in Victoria and Albert's. I expect you to wear a black gown for that. And for goodness' sake, please practice. Don't want you sounding like a dying bird again."

And just like the day before, she walked away without another word.

No one had told me anything about a breakfast party, but I showered and put on a nice suit dress anyway. I was pleased to notice that my outfit was casual enough to make it look like I didn't really care (which I promise, I didn't), but classy enough so my mom wouldn't make me change. When I walked into the kitchen I saw the "mess" she described, and only one thing was mine: my room key to get into the suite. Disgusted, I pulled all of my parents' paperwork, receipts, letters, and pens into a messy pile and shoved it into the kitchen drawer.

I helped Maria by rearranging the fruit and pastry trays, putting the omelets on the stove, and by pouring orange juice and Champaign into long-stemmed glasses.

Ten minutes before the guests were to arrive my mom told me my job was to collect everyone's jackets, handbags, and hats at the door when they came in. I was positive we've never done this in the past; everyone's things were always checked in the lobby. It was probably revenge for firing Marc Jacobs.

The Andersons were the first to arrive. They brought their two little kids with them. Allie and Megan were eight-year old twins that always get what they want. When I was younger, I would babysit for them sometimes. The pay was good (they are, like, the richest family in the United States) but not even $150 and hour was worth their rude kids.

"Hi, Amelia," Megan smiled sweetly. I grinned back and replied, "It's been a while, Megan."

She looked shocked and hurt. "I'm Allie."

Okay, I knew for a fact that she was Megan. Allie had freckle and this girl didn't.

"I can't believe you forgot my name!" she wailed. The adults looked at me with shock.

"Just kidding," she said suddenly and cackled.

"Oh, you two just love to play, don't you? Run along and get something to eat," said Mrs. Anderson fondly. She smiled at me as she handed over a twenty-pound Louis Vuitton bag, one of Mr. Anderson's briefcases, two little matching coats that were way too heavy for the middle of May, and a mink skin jacket that probably cost more than an average car.

A few minutes later two men from the Imagineering department arrived, but thankfully they didn't have as many coats as the Andersons. There were still three empty seats at the table.

I should've known. The next people to come were, of course, the Frank family. I tried to hide my surprise as I took Alyssa's lightweight athletic jacket and Mr. Frank's hat. Matthew politely said hello and smiled at my look of alarm.

Breakfast was served immediately. The place cards assigned me at the opposite end of the table from Matthew.

After everyone was done eating I tried to help Maria clear the table but my dad grabbed my arm and whispered, "That's not your job."