A Princess for Hire Book

by Lindsey Leavitt

  “Well, Floressa Chase. Of course. She fell in love with you after the secret princess debacle, and is excited to have you at her beck and call. I know how much you love Hollywood—”

  “Old Hollywood,” I said.

  “Old, new, whatever.” Meredith smoothed out the front of her suit. “You’ll not only have a chance to live the royal life, now that Floressa’s long-lost father has welcomed her back to Tharma, but the movie premieres and social scene…twenty-four-hour glamour. She’s quite possibly the most sought-after Match, and she’s yours. Or you are hers, I suppose.”

  “That’s…great.” It was. Really. But the whole glamour aspect of Façade, of life, just wasn’t as alluring anymore. The magic, literally, was gone. And Floressa’s life might be enviable, but she was also a bit spoiled. Who knew what she would expect of me? And a princess Match could be forever, or at least until I changed departments within Façade. Did I really want to devote the rest of my teen years to Floressa Chase? “What about Elsa?”

  “Elsa hasn’t applied for a Match.” Meredith stood and offered me her hand. “I’d imagine she quite likes her life right now and isn’t too keen to escape it. Floressa, on the other hand, has explicitly requested you. A perfect fit.”

  “When does that all start? The Matching stuff?”

  “Soon. You’ll receive an entire packet of information on Floressa—far more than what you’ve previously had available through your manual.”

  “Oh, so I’ll actually know what I’m doing.”

  “One would hope. Now it’s up to you to immerse yourself in Floressa. No more other princesses, no more BEST, no more random jobs. With a position like this, it’s expected that Façade time is Floressa time.”

  I looked around the room, wondering if I would ever see this place again. “So, I probably won’t be back at Façade much anymore, huh?”

  “No need. You have your own bubble, you have one client. You do have that new substitute ambassadorship that Genevieve discussed, so when it’s your turn, you’ll come back to address the council as a representative. But you certainly don’t need to come back to this room in Façade.”

  Like I could. No way would I make it past security and Meredith a second time. One visit I could blame on curiosity. Another was impossible. “So what’s the bad news?” I asked.

  “Oh. Nothing devastating. This was bound to happen eventually.” Meredith dusted off her suit. “I didn’t mention it before your last job because I didn’t want you to get dramatic, but the council decided…my agenting duties will end. Naturally—I’ll be heading a new committee, and I can’t be jumping in and out any time one of you girls goes crazy.”

  I let out a small gasp. “You’re not my agent anymore? What am I going to do?”

  “The same thing you always do. Get into trouble and cause your higher-up headaches.” She smiled weakly. “You’ll be assigned someone new, but to be honest, once you’re Matched, your agent doesn’t have much to do with you anymore. She checks in periodically. In the meantime, Genevieve said she’ll take over as a temporary agent, sort of a mentorship until they decide whom to assign you to permanently.”

  “Wait, why is she doing that?”

  “Well, your latest PPR from Vanna was positively glowing—says your magic saved the day. Genevieve is very excited about your future. And I don’t need to tell you what an honor that is.”

  “No! Are they trying to punish me?” I stepped away from the vials of magic so I didn’t fall into them. All this news was making me feel dizzy. Not only did Genevieve take Meredith away from me, but now she would be watching me all the time. And this was all my doing, because I told Vanna to sing my praises. Stupid! Drawing attention to myself was so not stealth. “Meredith, I can’t work here without you. This is horrible.”

  “Oh, hush, I don’t much need your diddly twenty percent, thank you.”

  “But, you’re, like, my mentor.”

  “Mentor? I wouldn’t say mentor.…” Meredith looked away from me and wiped at her eye. Okay, this was intense. I didn’t know the woman even had tear ducts. “This is stupid. I must be allergic to something in this room.”

  Another wave of tears hit me, and I started to hiccup.

  Meredith yanked two tissues out of her purse and handed me one. “I’m sure Genevieve is going to be proud that you figured a way in here, but we’re going to need to fill out a report so everything looks legit. Last thing I need is Façade disposing of you because you’re too much of a risk. I won’t let that happen after all the grief you’ve put me through. Let’s go.” Meredith reached over and squeezed my hand, pushing something small, almost lipstick-shaped, into my palm in the process.

  Somehow I knew not to mention the object right now—maybe it was a gift and she didn’t want me to get sentimental in front of her. I slipped the item into my pocket and followed Meredith into the hallway. My bubble was already waiting outside to take me home.

  “So this is it?” I asked.

  “Did you want me to sing a good-bye song to make it more official?”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Could I stop you?” Meredith asked.

  “Will you let me know what happens with…Frank Sinatra?”

  Meredith’s face clouded. When I’d found Meredith at the Façade Resort, her prince wore Royal Rouge that made him look like the old heartthrob singer and actor, Frank Sinatra. “Frank Sinatra is gone. For good.”

  “Wait, you mean the real Frank Sinatra, or your—”

  “I said no,” Meredith said, so softly I hardly heard her. “To the proposal. When you get to this level with the agency, Desi, you can’t be anything else. You can’t be involved with anyone remotely connected. You know that. Royals, other employees. Off-limits.”

  “But you love Frank!”

  “Of course I love him. I’ve loved him for many years, and he’s one of the only people I’ve ever loved in my life.”

  “So you chose this job over love,” I said.

  “I chose this job over everything. He’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. It’s for the best. Forget my job—he’s a royal and I’m…I’m just an orphan from Cleveland, Ohio, who happened to have a little magic.”

  “Meredith, that doesn’t matter—”

  “Frank and I have no chance of making it with those kinds of odds. We’re too different. Even if this wasn’t my job, I’m still not in his social class. I’m not from his country. Think of what an awful princess I would make!”

  “Technically, marrying a prince doesn’t make you a princess, so—”

  She held up a hand. “Choosing him would be a massive risk, and if I stay with Façade, I know what to expect, what I can do. I know who I am here.” She blew out a breath. “Now, would you please stop making my mascara run, and get in your bubble?”

  “Okay—but, Meredith, risks aren’t bad things. Life is full of risks—”

  “And look at what good that idea has done for you. Go. Start preparing for your Match and stay away from this room, got it?”

  I wondered when I’d see her again, if we’d ever get another chance to talk. I wanted to do something special, to grasp this moment and make it sharp. Movie lines and favorite quotes scrolled through my mind until I came up with one. “You know what Frank Sinatra said once?” I asked softly. “‘I’m gonna live until I die.’ You should try it, Meredith.”

  Maybe what I said was harsh, but no one else was going to tell Meredith that she was making the wrong choice. She looked like she was just about to yell at me again when I slipped into my bubble, the decor of which somehow looked less peppy now. home was already inputted as my destination. Daisy said to have a safe journey. Whatever. I wanted to go home and stay home. Had anyone ever quit Façade? I mean, voluntarily, without being sanitized? Doubt it. Meredith said it herself—I had the ideal job that most girls would dream of. An uncertain forever of Floressa Chase’s shallow life. Glamorous.

  I was almost home when I finally remembered the little tube Meredith had
stuck in my hand. Maybe it was some makeup that was custom-designed for Floressa so I didn’t have to Rouge up all the time.

  Not makeup. A small glass tube filled with a blue pulsating liquid labeled caprice.

  I let out a squeal. I wanted to rush back to Façade and give Meredith a hug. She might have given up on love, but she hadn’t given up on me.

  Because Meredith had slipped me her lost sub’s magic.

  My bubble bounced into the skating rink party room, and I burst through the entryway. Meredith’s faith in me meant I would be able to help a former sub. And if I could help one person, well…who knew what could happen after that?

  Just a few seconds later, a red and nearly oval-shaped bubble appeared. Reed stepped out, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. And it very well could have been weeks, the way Façade was able to manipulate time. In Sproutville, it was just seconds later from when we both left, and just a few days since we’d first talked at the cast party.

  I opened my mouth before shutting it fast. Reed. What was I supposed to say to Reed? When we’d said good-bye at Façade, it had been pretty clear he hadn’t believed a word I’d said. And yet, now I had proof. Sort of proof.

  “How was your job?” I asked.

  Reed gave me a weak smile. “Fenmar was brutal. Lots of issues with the government, not to mention family drama. And it’s too cold there this time of year.”

  Fenmar? Wait, FENMAR? Karl was the prince of Fenmar. Reed just legitimately confirmed that he was Karl’s sub. I mean, I suspected as much, but now I knew that my crush on Karl was really a crush on Reed. I liked Reed. Really liked him. My heart did a quick jump, but I pushed back the rising emotions and grabbed the vial. Come on, Desi. Crushes didn’t matter when I had the key to magical freedom in my pocket.

  “Your ankle is better,” he said.

  “Yeah, Façade makes a healing powder. Worked like a charm.”

  “Seriously? Why haven’t I heard about that stuff?”

  “For the same reason you didn’t hear about a lot of things at Façade.”

  Reed rubbed his eyes. He looked so adorably sleepy, so princely. Agh! My heart kept on hammering.

  “I need a nap, but first I have to spray the roller skates.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke. “Don’t feel like you need to stick around for this. Kind of gross.”

  “It’s fine.” Yeah, right. He wasn’t getting rid of me. I followed him into the skate rental room, which smelled like old socks and lemons. Reed got to work spraying the skates with an antifungal solution, his nose scrunched up with disgust.

  I sat down on the bench and watched. Meredith just proved to me that she wanted me to do what she couldn’t—to return the magic to Caprice. In Hollywood. I had my own bubble; now I just needed a sidekick. Hey—cool. Sidekick. I could make Reed a spandex superhero suit, and we could call ourselves the Magical Marvels and wear masks so no one at Façade would know who was behind the courageous acts of defiance—

  “You okay?” Reed’s gentle voice pulled me from my plotting. His ears were red, his attention still focused on the skates. “You seem, uh, intense.”

  “Huh?” I pictured Reed in his costume for a second and felt myself blush. “Oh. Hey. Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “If I tell you, you can’t get mad.”

  Reed rolled a skate along the counter. “I’m never mad at you.”

  “I just learned more stuff about that story I told you before.”

  “That was pretty sensational.”

  “You work for Façade.” I shrugged. “You should be used to sensational.”

  Reed stuck the last skate in a cubby and squirted sanitizer on his palms. He walked around the edge of the counter and held his hand out to me. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

  The skating rink was still empty as Reed led me to the middle, right under the disco ball. The lights went dark and the ball lit up, the colors dancing to the music that suddenly started. I hoped this wasn’t a distraction so he could avoid the topic.

  “What’s with the special effects?” I asked.

  “A distraction.”

  I knew it. “No, I want to talk about this. Don’t think fancy lights—”

  “A distraction so any Façade radars think we’re being stupid kids and not Enemies of the State.”

  “Oh. But we’re still going to talk.”

  “Here, dance with me.”

  He took my hand and touched my waist. Continents could fit between us, but my heart was still doing that million-beats-a-minute thing. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to be close. Pretend like we’re doing something, though.”

  Oh, I was doing something—something like focusing on the Very Important Mission and not Reed’s closeness or his wonderful smell or the whole sidekick-in-spandex idea.

  His voice was low when he said, “I thought about what you said the whole time I was on this last job. Every day. Every night.”

  “And what did you figure out?” I asked.

  “Do you know what my talent is, Desi? How I tune into magic?” He stared at me with his trademark I-can-see-into-your-soul stare.

  I wiped my hand on my jeans. “Uncomfortableness?”

  He pulled me closer. Yes, uncomfortably close. I could feel his breath on my ear when he whispered, “Truth. I can decipher truth. So I know if someone is making stuff up, or lying, or being evasive, or being honest. It’s what makes me such a good actor. And, sometimes, the hardest person to be honest with is yourself. Even for me.” He sighed. “If you were telling the truth, then other…things were a lie. A big lie.”

  “Other things” meaning that organic magic—the field his parents had devoted their whole life to—was not the primary fuel of Façade. Or that magic really could be used on non-royals. Or that the makeup and potions could do more than change appearances, like heal a sprained ankle. Or…or I didn’t even know what else was real or false with our employer.

  Reed had that look on his face, like he’d been punched in the gut. I imagined that I looked the same way for a good week after I’d first learned about the sub-sanitation room. Finding out that something you love isn’t as pure as you’d thought is like waking up to a magenta sky one day when every other morning it had always been blue.

  “Truth. That is a useful talent,” I said.

  “It’s hard, too. I could tell something was off with Façade for a while, but just because I knew there was lie, I didn’t know what the lie was. I was hoping it was something like, I don’t know, the makeup had less glitter than they claimed.”

  “Ambassador Gregory the makeup pioneer would be so upset.”

  “Yeah, that would be a small crisis for him.”

  I pinched my eyebrows together. “But I still don’t get why you didn’t believe me.”

  “Because I didn’t want to. So many people lie, even without meaning to. That’s why you always really stuck out to me, even before I found out about Façade. You’re an awful liar—you’re too good at being good. So, if you tell me that something is wrong, I believe it. I believe you. But I wish you were lying.”

  “So do I.”

  The song hit the chorus, and we shuffled in the middle of that floor, the disco ball twirling. Anyone watching would think we were immersed in a romantic moment. Nothing suspicious, except it was sort of dorky that we were here alone. Reed’s jaw kept clenching, and he swallowed a couple times, and I couldn’t tell if he was holding back anger or tears. Or both.

  “So now what do we do?” he asked.

  “First, we’re going to have to figure out a way to be together more.” My ears grew hot. “I mean, so we can talk about stuff without people being suspicious.”

  “Of course. But that’s not what I mean.” His voice cracked. “It’s just…how do we go to work and play the game when we know what we know?”

  This time, I was the one who moved closer. I slipped the vial of Caprice’s magic into Reed’s hand. “Easy. We change the rules of the game.”
>
  Reed and I sent each other fifteen brainstorm texts that night, trying to figure out a place we could hang out without my parents/Façade/Kylee/Celeste and her big mouth getting suspicious. I even considered getting a job at Crystal Palace, a noble sacrifice, considering I couldn’t get the foot smell off after two long showers. Reed finally thought of a plan—I could volunteer for the Winter Ball. There was a committee meeting the following week, and Reed already had to work there as part of his job at Crystal Palace. We would have lots of chances to talk, and my parents wouldn’t get weird about me hanging out with a boy. Celeste couldn’t spread rumors that Reed and I were together, and Kylee—well, Kylee I was still working on.

  She didn’t talk to me Tuesday at school, despite my attempts to use my magic. I was beyond empathetic, yet I was unable to turn invisible, read her mind, or any other magical miracle I tried to create to force a conversation. When I got Reed alone again, I would have to ask him how he was able to control his magic.

  So, that afternoon, I was both nervous and relieved when my phone rang and Kylee’s name showed up on the caller ID. As hard as the double-life thing was, having her in my regular life was part of what made my regular life so great.

  “You got me pears?” she asked when I picked up the phone.

  “I wanted to get a pineapple because they’re spiky on the outside but sweet on the inside—kind of like me sometimes. But they were out of season.”

  “Then what are the pears supposed to say?”

  “‘Eat me.’ The card says everything else.” I spent an hour on that card. It’s hard to apologize when I couldn’t really explain what I was apologizing for. So I’d told her that “Life is black/Life is blue/When it’s not colored/With me and you.” Okay, so Hallmark said that junk. I just said that she was my best friend, I loved her, and I would never let anything get between us. And I meant it. I didn’t know if I could live up to those words, but I meant them. “So do you forgive me?”

  “Do you even know what I would be forgiving you for?” she asked.