Emily Wilde is graduating in two days from
UCSD with her masters in gifted education. She knows exactly who she
is, has a job lined up in Naples, FL and knows exactly what she wants
to do with her life. All of that changes when her roommate and dear
friend, Craig, finds a note on the door for Emily. That note changes
everything for Emily and we follow her on a whirlwind adventure as she
realizes, as one guy put it, "She's the best kept secret since the
Monroe incident."
Chapter 1
At
age 24, I had my whole life ahead of me. I was finishing my Master's
degree in gifted education at the University of California, San Diego
(UCSD) and then headed to Naples, Florida to be an 8th grade math
teacher in a public school. As the last week of school was wrapping up,
I was looking forward to my new adventures.
It was two days
until graduation, my last Monday in San Diego. I would miss the west
coast, but I was ready to get back east. I wanted to be closer to my
family. My parents and younger siblings lived in Columbus, GA. My older
sister, Marla, was living in New York.
In San Diego, I was
renting a room in a house where I lived with three other people. I was
in the process of packing everything that was mine and storing it all
in one corner of my room until Friday morning. The plan was to graduate
on Wednesday, spend some time with my friends on Thursday, then pick up
the U-Haul I rented on Friday morning and hit the road for the drive to
Florida. It would be a long drive and a bit lonely, but it would also
be nice to have that time to myself. I was really looking forward to it
all.
"Hey, Emily, you got some mail." Craig said as he wandered
into my room with an envelope in his hand. "Wow, you're almost done
packing." He paused, surveying my room, "You sure you'll be fine
driving to Florida alone?"
"Yeah. I'll be fine." I turned and
looked at Craig, winking at him. I took the envelope from his hand.
"And what's this we have here?" I looked at the letter funny. It was an
envelope with my name on it, Emily Wilde, but it had no address, no
postmark or anything. "Where did you find this?" I asked, confused, as
I began to open the envelope by running my index finger under the flap
very gently.
Craig crashed on my bed in his designer jeans and
t-shirt and began looking at my most recent copy of Cosmopolitan. He
looked up at me and said, "Oh, it was stuck in the door when I came
in." This was a practice that I had learned over the past few years. It
was quite normal for living in college dorms and the apartments and
houses nearby that housed college students.
When I pulled the
card out of the envelope, a business card dropped on the floor. I
picked it up and held it with the envelope in my right hand while I sat
on the edge of my bed and read the hand written card that was in my
left hand.
Emily,
I understand that you are
graduating on Wednesday and leaving the San Diego area shortly
thereafter. I would like a chance to meet with you before you leave.
Please call me at the number on the enclosed card to schedule a meeting.
Sincerely, Elizabeth Harding
"Hey, is this a joke or something, Craig?" I re-read the card.
He looked up from the magazine, confused, "What?"
"It's
a note from Elizabeth Harding. It's got to be a joke, right?" I
inspected the card, which was cream with a beautiful silver cursive "H"
on the front of it. Then I looked at the business card that had fallen
out. It wasn't a business card at all. In fact, it was a calling card.
It simply said "Elizabeth Harding" in a beautiful script that matched
the "H" on the note card with a phone number below her name. All of the
print was in silver and it looked very elegant.
Craig took the
hand written card and inspected it, then suggested, "Call and see. What
can it hurt?" He shrugged then returned to looking through the magazine.
I took the card back, picked up my cell phone and dialed the number. What the heck? Craig was right.
"Hello?" came a voice after two rings.
"Hi. This is Emily Wilde. I got this number in a card from Elizabeth Harding."
"Ms.
Wilde, thank you for calling. Would you like to come to the house
before or after your graduation?" The woman's voice was kind, but all
business.
"I'm sorry...who am I speaking to?" I asked, confused.
"Oh,
I'm sorry, this is Carole, Mrs. Harding's personal assistant." She
paused a moment. "So, would you like to come by tomorrow or Thursday? I
understand that you will be very busy on Wednesday."
"Um...is this THE Elizabeth Harding we're talking about...?" I had to ask because this was all so bizarre.
"If you mean the mother of the First Lady and the former First Lady herself, yes." Carol replied, very matter of factly.
"I'm sorry, I'm just a little surprised." I paused, trying to determine what to say next. Why did she want to meet with me?
"Ms. Wilde, are you still there?" Carole inquired.
"I'm
sorry, yes, I am." I paused to contemplate what to do. I figured I
should take the meeting. It isn't often that you get to meet a First
Lady. "Um...let's meet tomorrow." Why not, right? Then it would be over
and I wouldn't have it hanging over my head for graduation.
"Wonderful, Ms. Wilde. Would lunch work for you?" Carole inquired.
"Lunch
sounds good. Where shall we meet?" I wondered to myself - where exactly
does a former First Lady dine with someone like me?
"The house is actually in Carlsbad, on the beach. I'll send a car to pick you up. Does 11 am work for you?"
Pausing
only long enough for effect, I answered. "Sure. I'll be ready then.
Um...do you happen to know what Mrs. Harding wants to see me about?" I
was completely at a loss but trying to play it cool and confident.
"Unfortunately,
you'll have to find out for yourself. She doesn't normally let me in on
what the meetings are regarding, just who will be calling." Carole was
very matter-of-fact. There was a reason she was Mrs. Harding's
assistant - she was all business.
"Okay, thank you, Carole. I'll
see Mrs. Harding tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it." I hung up the
phone feeling as though I sounded too eager and completely confused.
What in the world would Elizabeth Harding want to meet with me about?
Though
Craig was still perusing my magazine, I knew he had been listening to
every word. As soon as I hung up the phone, he said, "So?"
He
was very curious, so I filled him in on everything. I was having lunch
tomorrow with THE Mrs. Elizabeth Harding. She's American royalty. I
mean if America had royalty...she would be the Queen. And I had
absolutely no idea what she wanted to meet with me about.