“Oh my gawd, do you know who you look like?” Nicholas’s hand goes rigid in my mine, but I squeeze it because…I got this. “Prince Nicholas, right?” I tell the aviator-glasses-wearing blond, letting my New York accent come through. “Totally! You know, I heard he’s in town—” she points to Nicholas “—and you could so be him!” “I know! I keep telling him we should move to Vegas—he could get work as an impersonator—but he doesn’t listen to me.” I jiggle Nicholas’s hand. “Do the accent, baby.” With a soft look in his eyes, he speaks in his normal voice. “I don’t have an accent…baby.”
