Long Live the Queen Read Online Free

slim, neither of them had ever really been able to relax enough to get too carried away. As time wore on, Josh had gotten more and more frustrated about this, while she—in many ways—had been kind of relieved. It had made life significantly less complicated.
    â€œWhat,” Josh said, smiling at her.
    â€œI’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I was just—”
    â€œThinking,” he said.
    Yeah.

    Her mother had so many clothes that they were kept all over the place, including the storage area right between her room and Steven’s, as well as up on the third floor, but the closets opening off the master bedroom and dressing room were a good place to start. When he saw the neat rows of suits and dresses, and skirts and blouses and gowns—and shoes , his mouth literally fell open.
    â€œJesus,” he said.
    â€œWant me to do my Daisy Buchanan impression?” Meg asked.
    He laughed.
    â€œIs that a no?” she asked.
    â€œBig no,” he said, then pointed at the large tags on all of the hangers. “What are those?”
    Visible evidence of White House OCD. Meg shrugged. “They always write down when and where she’s worn the outfit so, I don’t know, she doesn’t repeat.”
    â€œHunh.” He leaned forward to study one of the tags. “Who are ‘they’?”
    â€œI don’t know,” she said. “The Cast of Thousands.” Although, in this case, it was probably the social secretaries. She and Steven always called the White House staff the Cast of Thousands—for obvious reasons. She held out one of her favorite gowns, a dark sapphire-blue, very simply cut. “What do you think?”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said. “When was it worn last?”
    She grinned. Josh was pretty cute, when he wanted to be. Sometimes even when he didn’t want to be. “Well, hell, I don’t know, either,” she said, and checked the tag. “Right after Labor Day. At a thing for NASA.”
    â€œIt’s nice,” he said.
    An extreme understatement.
    He pulled out a strapless black dress. “This one’s pretty.”
    â€œNo way would she let me borrow that,” Meg said.
    â€œWhy?” He looked at it again. What there was of it. “Oh.”
    â€œYeah.” Meg put the black dress back—which had only been
worn at her mother’s birthday party up at Camp David almost a year earlier, with just a few of her parents’ very closest friends in attendance—and took down a white one, with a scoop neck and three-quarter sleeves. “This, she’d let me wear.”
    â€œKind of bridal,” he said.
    â€œYeah.” She hung it up, taking out a shimmery golden dress. “How about this?”
    He shook his head.
    â€œShe looks—monarchial—in it,” Meg said.
    â€œIs that a word?” he asked doubtfully.
    She frowned. “I think so.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” he said.
    She made a mental note to look the word up later, although she almost never remembered to do things like that. “She looks—queenly.”
    He laughed. “Got it.”
    â€œIn fact, she—” Meg stopped, suddenly hearing her parents out in the bedroom.
    â€œI thought they weren’t home,” Josh whispered.
    â€œI guess they’re back,” Meg said, and raised her voice, since she could hear her mother approaching the closet. “Hi, Mom.”
    â€œOh, hi.” Her mother paused in the act of taking her hair down when she saw Josh. “Hello, Josh.”
    â€œUm, hello, ma’am,” he said, looking embarrassed. “We were just—”
    â€œHe wanted to try on some of your clothes,” Meg said, helpfully.
    â€œOh.” Her mother smiled. “Are there any you’d like to take along with you?”
    Josh blinked a few times, now looking mortified. “Uh—they’re all very