“Do I get to wear a cute dress?”

“You can wear whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“Your mom,” Ruth said, “is going to be so disappointed in this whole affair, I can just tell. But I’m really happy for you.”

“Yeah,” I said sarcastically. “Because now you get to share your room with Mike and not me.”

“Shut up,” Ruth said, laughing. “You were an awesome roommate. Well, except for the night terrors. Speaking of terror, how’s your mom coping with it, anyway?”

“She’ll be all right,” I said. Because I knew she would be. Eventually.

“Does Douglas know?”

“Not yet. Rob and I are meeting him and Tasha for lunch in—” I looked at the time. “Right now, actually. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. And, Ruth?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I beyour bridesmaid? When you marry Mike?”

Ruth, as I’d known she would, screamed happily again and hung up. Smiling, I went to the garage and pulled out my bike, then cruised on over to Wilkins Auto and Motorcycle Repair. I can’t say that, when I pulled up to the light on First and Main, and noticed Karen Sue Hankey in the white convertible in the lane next to me, I was particularly surprised. I raised the face shield of my helmet and yelled, “Karen Sue!”

She looked over at me, startled. “Jess?”

“Hey,” I said. “Sorry about blowing you off yesterday. I had a lot on my mind.”

“I know,” Karen Sue said unsmilingly. “I read the paper this morning.”

“So,” I said. “Want to reschedule?”

“Sure,” Karen Sue said. “When are you leaving to go back to New York?”

“Oh,” I said. “Never.”

Karen Sue’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“I’m staying here,” I said with a shrug.

“Here?”Karen Sue looked shocked.“Why?”

“Because,” I said. The light turned green. “I’m engaged to a local business owner. Call me!”

I left Karen Sue sitting at the light in shock. When I glanced in my rearview mirror before making the turn into the parking lot of Rob’s garage, I saw that she was still sitting there, openmouthed, a line of cars behind her, honking.

Rob had done a lot, I saw at a glance, to his uncle’s garage. For one thing, the place was a lot cleaner. And for another, they were servicing European cars as well as American and Japanese models. In fact, as I walked up, I saw Rob in gray coveralls, bent over the engine of a butter-colored Mercedes coupe, behind the wheel of which sat a woman with a lot of blond hair who looked a little familiar, though I couldn’t place her face. At first.

“Try it again,” Rob said to the blonde, who obediently switched on her ignition.

The motor purred to life. Rob, looking satisfied, put the hood down.

“It was just your starter again,” he said, reaching for a rag to wipe the grease from his hands. “It shouldn’t give you any more trouble. Just—”

But he didn’t get to finish, because the blonde had leaped out of the car and hurled herself against him, throwing both arms around his neck.

“Oh, Rob! You are such a miracle worker!” she cried. “I can’t thank you enough!”

And then she laid a great, big kiss on his mouth.

Which is the exact moment when his startled gaze met mine.

And I instantly knew where I’d seen her before.

It was Miss Boobs-As-Big-As-My-Head. Her most memorable attributes, I saw when she finally released Rob and turned around, were clothed in the skimpiest halter top imaginable.

But this time, I didn’t run. This time I crossed the garage until I was standing right in front of her. Then, tilting my head so I could see into her heavily mascaraed eyes, I said, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jess, Rob’s fiancée.”

Boobs-As-Big-As-My-Head smiled at me in a befuddled way and said, without introducing herself, “Rob’s engaged?”

“Yeah,” I said. “He is. And if you ever try to kiss him like that again, I’ll crack your head open with a socket wrench. Got it?”

The blonde stopped smiling.

“Oh,” she said, her eyes going very wide. “Um. Yeah. I got it. I’m. Uh. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I’m just a very affectionate person, and I tend to—”

“Well,” I said with a friendly wink. “Now you do know. So knock it off.”

The blonde looked questioningly at Rob, who was looking amused. And a little bit relieved.

I guess I couldn’t blame him for either.

“You can pay at the counter over there, Nancy,” he said. “Jake has your bill.”

“Okay,” Boobs-As-Big-As-My-Head said, blinking rapidly. “Thanks again, Rob. Nice to meet you, um, Jess. And, um. I’m really sorry. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Nice meeting you,” I said. “Come back soon.”

On her way to the counter, Nancy nearly tripped over her own platform heels, she was in such a hurry to get away from me. I looked up at Rob, and said, “Guess what?”

“What?” he asked, still grinning.

“I’m not broken anymore,” I said.

“I noticed,” he said, grinning more broadly. “What happened to the whole nonviolence thing?”

“I didn’t hit her,” I said. “Did you see me hit her? I just threatened, is all.”

“You sure did. That was some real self-restraint you exercised, as a matter of fact. So. Is it time for lunch?”

“Time for lunch.”

“Just let me wash up. Hey, so the guys and I were wondering. Now that you have your powers back, does this mean if we have kids, you’re always going to know where to find them?”

I thought about it. “Yes,” I said.

“What about me?” He put his arms around my waist. “Are you always going to know where to find me?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, grinning back at him. “Now that I’ve found the person who’s been missing the longest of all, anyway.”

“Who’s that?” Rob asked, curious.

“Myself,” I said. And hugged him.

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to Jennifer Brown, John Henry Dreyfuss, Laura Langlie, Amanda Maciel, Abby McAden, and Ingrid van der Leeden.

About the Author

MEG CABOTis the author of the bestselling, critically acclaimed Princess Diaries books, which were made into the wildly popular Disney movies of the same name. Her other books for teens include the Mediator series, the 1-800-Where-R-You books,ALL-AMERICAN GIRL, READY OR NOT, TEEN IDOL, AVALON HIGH, andHOW TO BE POPULAR , as well asNICOLA AND THE VISCOUNT andVICTORIA AND THE ROGUE . She also writes books for adults, includingTHE BOY NEXT DOOR, BOY MEETS GIRL, EVERY BOY’S GOT ONE, SIZE 12 IS NOT FAT , andQUEEN OF BABBLE . She currently lives in Key West and New York City with her husband and a primary one-eyed cat named Henrietta, as well as assorted backup cats.

Visit Meg’s website at: www.megcabot.com

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

Books by

MEG CABOT

THE 1-800-WHERE-R-YOU BOOKS:

1: WHEN LIGHTNING STRIKES

2: CODE NAME CASSANDRA

3: SAFE HOUSE

4: SANCTUARY

5: MISSING YOU

THE MEDIATOR BOOKS:

THE MEDIATOR1: SHADOWLAND

THE MEDIATOR2: NINTH KEY

THE MEDIATOR3: REUNION

THE MEDIATOR4: DARKEST HOUR

THE MEDIATOR5: HAUNTED

THE MEDIATOR6: TWILIGHT

ALL-AMERICAN GIRL

READY OR NOT: AN ALL-AMERICAN GIRL NOVEL

TEEN IDOL

HOW TO BE POPULAR

AVALON HIGH

NICOLA AND THE VISCOUNT

VICTORIA AND THE ROGUE

THE PRINCESS DIARIES

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME II:

PRINCESS IN THE SPOTLIGHT

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME III:

PRINCESS IN LOVE

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME IV:

PRINCESS IN WAITING

VALENTINE PRINCESS:

A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK (VOLUME IV AND A QUARTER)

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME IV AND A HALF:

PROJECT PRINCESS

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME V:

PRINCESS IN PINK

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME VI:

PRINCESS IN TRAINING

THE PRINCESS PRESENT:

A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK (VOLUME VI AND A HALF)

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME VII:

PARTY PRINCESS

SWEET SIXTEEN PRINCESS:

A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK (VOLUME VII AND A HALF)

THE PRINCESS DIARIES, VOLUME VIII:

PRINCESS ON THE BRINK

ILLUSTRATED BY CHESLEY MCLAREN:

PRINCESS LESSONS:

A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK

PERFECT PRINCESS:

A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK

HOLIDAY PRINCESS:

A PRINCESS DIARIES BOOK

THE BOY NEXT DOOR

BOY MEETS GIRL

EVERY BOY’S GOT ONE

QUEEN OF BABBLE

SIZE 12 IS NOT FAT

Credits

Cover art © 2007 by Jacquie O’Neill

Cover design by Christopher Stengel

Copyright

MISSING YOU. Copyright © 2006 by Meg Cabot, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Microsoft Reader December 2006 ISBN 978-0-06-125439-0

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2006928091

ISBN-10: 0-06-087430-9—ISBN-13: 978-0-06-087430-8

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