Elmo: Mia doesn't bring up Michael cheating on her because they've both realized that their breakup was really the result of the fact that Michael would rather live the normal life in New York with their baby and Mia has an obligation to rule. Also, Mia's main focus isn't on hurting Michael, but getting closer to their daughter. She needs his support.

Liss: The bathroom-bedroom thing can be explained easily. Mia was checking out the house, walked through a bedroom to the bathroom and found another bedroom on the other side. She realized that it'd be much more convenient to put Michael and Olivia in these rooms because neither one of them wants much contact with her anyhow. But soon afterwards she discovers that there's no other bedroom for her to sleep in.

Ch. 10

Michael and Olivia stayed holed up in Michael's room until Sebastiano showed up. I think they were plotting to murder me or something. I wouldn't put it past them right now.

I kicked off my heels and flopped onto the couch, closing my eyes but not expecting any rest. Lars would blow a gasket if he knew I was catching a few winks with mortal enemies not fifty feet away.

You'd think I had set this all up as a nice getaway for Michael and Olivia. They can hang out all they want back in New York! I'm the one who's supposed to be getting to know her.

But when Sebastiano and Dani, his supermodel wife, finally turned up with their three kids, he decided to grace me with his presence in the kitchen.

"Sebastiano," Michael said formally, extending his hand.

"Michael...It's been a long time. This is my wife, Dani."

I feel awful admitting this, but I had been completely blown away whenever Sebastiano had announced his impending nuptials with a woman who'd had her face plastered all over the likes of Vogue and Cosmopolitan. Then again, Sebastiano was always a big fan of flawless bone structure.

Michael shook her hand too and introduced Olivia to them.

"So this is my mysterious cousin? I've been waiting a long time to meet you," Sebastiano said, kneeling down to Olivia's height. "And how are you, little lady?"

I expected her to shy away and hide behind daddy's legs, but she looked up at me before giggling and throwing her arms around Sebastiano's broad shoulders.

My God, she's doing this just to spite me. I know she is.

I frowned at the blatant show of affection and diverted my eyes, catching sight of Michael grinning down at his daughter.

They organized this together!

"Come on," I said quickly. "Let's hit the beach. Do you kids want to go swimming?"

Michael frowned at me. But I don't care. I'm going to teach Olivia how to swim, and he can't stop me! It'll be something for us to bond over.

"No, I want to build a sandcastle," Olivia said.

"Yeah!" Francis, Jake and Polly agreed.

"Fine then," I said, gritting my teeth. "We'll build castles then."

-

I gave up trying to 'bond' with Olivia when I was covered (accidentally, of course) with sand six times.

I sat up on the beach with Sebastiano and Dani while Michael stayed to oversee the building. I noticed that he hadn't been covered in sand at all yet.

"So how's things going, Mia?" Dani asked, sitting up from her sun-baking position. "Isn't motherhood great?"

Yeah, it's peachy.

"I don't think she likes me," I admitted softly, thought I hadn't been planning on saying it out loud to anyone. "She won't talk to me, and when she does it's only to say she hates me, doesn't want to be a princess, and wants to go home."

"Well she IS her mother's daughter," Sebastiano pointed out, laughing gently. His English had improved dramatically when he started working out of L.A.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that it sounds exactly like the reaction you would have if you were in her shoes."

"I WAS in her shoes, remember?"

"Yeah, but your dad wasn't just a stranger to you. You knew him; you just didn't know what he did for a living. This is totally different for her, because she doesn't feel like you are her mother, so she doesn't feel like she has to like you."

I nodded. "So what do I do?"

It's funny, because usually Sebastiano and I have giant communication barriers. I speak better English, and he speaks better French. But right now, I'm understanding everything he's saying, and it's making sense.

"You convince her to like you. You don't give her a reason to hate you and she won't be able to. Basically, you just be the best darn mother a seven year old can have."

"It's easier said than done when there's a protective father whispering horrible things about me in her ears every five seconds."

Sebastiano's eyes drifted to where Michael was sitting, now half buried in sand. The kids had abandoned the castle idea, and are now making a castle out of him.

"I don't think Michael will be a problem."

"How so? He HATES me."

"He's still hurting, Mia. He feels like you chose Genovia over him, and that's a blow to the ego. And you know, you DID kind of choose Genovia over him."

"He's right, Mia," Dani piped up. "If Sebastiano had chosen Genovia over me, especially if we'd already had a child, I wouldn't be so forgiving either."

I nodded, looking down at my sand-covered hands.

"I guess I've just got to try harder..." I said.

"And besides," Sebastiano added, dropping his voice. "Il vous aime toujours."

"What?" I asked, not having heard well enough to translate into English.

He looked knowingly at me. "I think you heard me, I just don't think you wanted to hear."

What is he talking about? If he's offering advice, I'm listening! I need all the help I can get with this problem child!

-

While everyone was still at the beach, I called the castle and asked one of the maids to go shopping for me. I needed ingredients for the best kid's dinner I can make. And given my limited skills in the kitchen, it'll have to be ready-made microwave mac and cheese.

Hey, it's better than toast, isn't it?

Michael and Olivia walked in the door just as I was setting the table.

"Mmm," Michael said, bringing a smile to my face. "What's that smell?"

"That," I said proudly. "is dinner. I made it myself."

He raised his eyebrows at me while Olivia looked anything but impressed. Obviously Michael never told her about my past cooking experiences, and how as a princess I don't have to cook for myself.

Back when we lived together, Michael and I usually went the take-out route. But on evenings where we didn't feel like going out (or weren't dressed appropriately enough to greet a delivery boy), Michael would make me dinner. God, can that man toss a salad.

"Really? What is it?"

"Do you like mac and cheese?" I asked Olivia, bending down so we were at eye level.

"I like the way daddy makes mac and cheese," she said snottily.

"Well, you'll have to try mine. It'll be yummy, I promise."

She didn't reply. She just motioned for Michael to bend down so she could whisper in his ear.

He stood back up and chuckled. "How about we just try this first, kiddo. Then we'll see about a sandwich later."

I took a deep breath. "Fine, I'll go serve it up."

I got to the microwave and opened it, letting out a huge gust of steam as I did so. The warm smell of cheesy mac now smelled over cooked. Great.

Hoping to be able to salvage it, I took the serving spoon and dug in, dishing it out into three bowls.

"It's pasty," was the first thing Olivia said after trying a spoonful. "Daddy's is never this pasty. I don't like it."

Michael smiled apologetically at me. "I'm sure it's not that bad, Olivia. I mean, it's not as if it's one of those yucky packet mixes. Mia made it from scratch, right, Mia?"

Does opening the box and mixing it up count as 'from scratch'?

"Sure," I gulped, talking a bite. She's right, it IS pasty. And dry. And...disgusting.

I watched as Michael tried some. He chewed for longer than usual, and then washed it down with his glass of water. "Mmm," he said, totally lying. "It's great, Mia. Really."

Olivia made a disgusted face. "No, it's not! It's disgusting! She can't even cook, how can she be my mommy?"

I stood up quickly, causing my chair to fall to the ground behind me. "Fine. Make yourself a sandwich then. I'm going to bed."

I turned around to see that I didn't even have a bed, just the small, uncomfortable couch sitting in the living room, just meters from the kitchen table.

Damn.

Acting as if this didn't bother me, I picked up my pajamas and headed for the bathroom to change.

Review!

I'm going on vacation tomorrow evening, but I might update before I leave if there are a great deal of reviews to appease me. I know what you're thinking, Kristin--and yes, I am a review whore.