“It would be very cool,” I say, perching on the edge of my bed. My room is like something out of a stately home. The furniture is all made from gleaming mahogany, the chairs and the desk and the bed all with ornately carved legs. The color scheme is burgundy and gold, which isn’t something I would ever choose for my bedroom at home, but here it’s perfect. I look over to the window. The velvet curtains go all the way from the ceiling to the floor and are tied back with wide sashes. “Oh my God, is that . . . ?” I jump off the bed and race over to the window.
Elliot follows me. “The Empire State Building,” he gasps as we gaze out at the New York skyline.
We turn and look at each other for a second, then we both start jumping about like kids on Christmas morning.
For the rest of the afternoon, Mum and Dad are busy in meetings with Cindy, Jim, and the catering manager. Elliot and I are supposed to be napping off our jet lag before we go out for the evening but we’re far too excited to sleep. Instead, we’ve built a nest of cushions and pillows on my bed and we’re channel surfing our way through American TV.
Elliot is also looking up interesting facts about the Waldorf Astoria on his laptop. My laptop is still tucked away inside my suitcase. I’ve decided to leave it there for the rest of the trip. I’ve also turned off the Internet on my phone. I want it to truly feel as if there’s an ocean between me and everyone from school and my Unicorn Knickers Shame.
“Oh my God, Pen, listen to this!” Elliot starts reading from his screen. “The Waldorf Astoria was created by two feuding cousins called Waldorf and Astor who each built rival hotels next to each other.” He turns to me, laughing. “Then, when they made up, they built a corridor between them.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Elliot continues reading. “Oh, but it’s not this building. This one was built in 1931. The original hotel was knocked down to make space for the Empire State Building.”
We both glance to the window and once again I get that pinch-me-I’m-dreaming feeling.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Elliot exclaims with a gasp. “This was the hotel where room service was first invented!”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. And—and”—Elliot can barely contain his excitement—“there was a secret underground train platform.”
“What?”
“It was for VIPs who wanted to arrive here in secret, like the president.” Elliot looks at me, his eyes wide as saucers. “Oh, Pen, I love this place.”
In the end we order some room service because, as Elliot said, “It would be rude not to, given that they invented it.” We order a Waldorf salad because it was also invented here and a huge margherita pizza. I’m just starting to feel really sleepy when Mum and Dad get back. Dad is looking his usual laid-back self but Mum is looking super-stressy.
“There’s so much to do!” she wails, plonking herself down on my bed. “I knew we should have come sooner.”
“It’ll be fine,” Dad says, giving her a reassuring smile. “We’ve got all day tomorrow to sort everything out. And Sadie Lee is a star.”
Mum nods. “Yes, she’s amazing. Her bread pudding tastes divine.” Mum turns to me. “Cindy and Jim were wondering if you could take some behind-the-scenes photos for them. They’ve got a professional photographer booked for the wedding day, but they were saying how nice it would be if they could have some pictures of us setting things up and putting the Downton Abbey touches to everything. And they’ve asked if you’d take some fun shots on the day too—the little things the professional photographer won’t see.”
“Seriously?” I feel an excited fluttering in my stomach. “But why me?”
“I showed them some of the pictures you’ve taken at other weddings and they were very impressed.”
Dad starts nodding and grinning proudly. “They really were.”
“So they should be,” Elliot says. “Penny’s an awesome photographer.”
I feel all smiley inside. “Wow. When do I start?”
“Tomorrow, while I’m setting everything up,” Mum says.
“Don’t worry, Elliot,” Dad says. “While the girls are busy we can do a bit of sightseeing. How do you fancy a tour of the museums?”
Elliot looks up at Dad and to my surprise I see that his eyes are gleaming with tears. “That would be epic,” he says quietly. “Seriously, you guys are the best. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
“Oh, honey,” Mum says, laughing. “You’re very welcome.”
And we all smother Elliot in a hug.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, I’m woken by a knocking sound.
“Pen, are you awake?”
My first thought is, how am I able to hear Elliot’s voice so clearly through my bedroom wall? Then I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of crisp white bed linen and plush burgundy carpet and it all comes flooding back. I’m in the Waldorf Astoria. I’m in New York. I survived the flight!
“Yes,” I say, shuffling up to a seated position.
Elliot comes bounding through our adjoining door. “I’ve been awake for ages,” he says. “I’m too excited to sleep.”
I look at the clock and see that I’ve slept for ten whole hours. This is an incredible achievement after the nights of fitful sleep back home.
Elliot plonks himself down on the end of my bed and opens his laptop. “OK, I know you didn’t want to go online while we’re over here but there’s something you need to see.”
I instantly feel sick. “No, please, Elliot, I don’t want to see anything to do with the stupid video. I just want to forget about it.”
Elliot shakes his head and smiles. “It’s not the video; it’s your blog.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you, my dear, have gone viral again—but this time in a very good way.”
“What?” I crawl up the bed toward him and turn the laptop around so that it’s facing me. I see my post about facing my fears.
“Scroll down,” Elliot says.
I scroll down. There are 327 comments.
“What the . . . ?” I stare at the screen blankly. I’ve never had this many comments. Ever.
“They’ve all been posting about their fears,” Elliot says, “and how they’re going to face them. They’ve been sharing it too. Look how many followers you’ve got.”
I look at the followers bar on the right-hand side of the screen. “Ten thousand?”
Elliot nods. “Ten thousand, seven hundred, and fifteen, to be precise.”