A Princess for Hire Book

by Lindsey Leavitt

  “It’s a good schedule,” Reed said. “If you break it down over two years, that’s really only one job every week or two.”

  “Still,” I said. “You must be really good if they’re sending you out that much.”

  “I do what I do.” He smiled ruefully. “It doesn’t hurt that my parents were both subs. I’m a legacy.”

  Façade had legacies? That sounded like a big deal. And if Reed was a big deal, then maybe he knew more cool tricks beyond manipulating manuals. Then again, maybe he already knew everything there was to know about Façade and still thought things were fabulous. “But I thought magic wasn’t hereditary.”

  “It isn’t always. But it can be. And in my case, it was.” Reed glanced around the bathroom before lowering his voice.

  Even in this space, even when our words were supposedly muted, I could tell it was hard for him to talk about Façade too. “Part of the reason my parents work in agriculture and move around so much is because they’re doing research for the agency. They work for the Organic Magic department, figuring out which organic things house magic. So I actually already knew about your pet-store fish—we’ve been tracking them since we moved to Sproutville. Along with dozens of other organisms—it’s a hot pocket of activity. Who’d have thought Idaho would be so magical?”

  Not me. I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. “So did you always have magic, or did you have to have it…ignited?”

  “Same rules. My ignition happened with a seal at the zoo. It was pretty staged—my parents paid the seal trainer fifty bucks to pick me during the animal show. But I was still nervous that nothing would happen, that I didn’t have MP. And everyone’s ignition is different—some people don’t even know anything happened, and others have a big magical explosion. Kind of depends on how your magic shows itself and what your talents are.”

  “So? What happened to you?”

  “My mom says the water literally glowed when I touched the seal.”

  “Wow. I had a stupid fish blow bubbles.”

  “It’s all relative,” Reed said. “I went into the family business right away. The second we got home, I was out the door and off to work.”

  “And do you like working at Façade?” I searched his face as I spoke, hoping for a little hesitation.

  “Don’t you?” Reed asked. “I bet you love wearing all those tiaras.”

  I snorted. “I still haven’t worn a tiara! That’s something I would change—every sub should get her own tiara.”

  “Very important,” Reed agreed.

  “What about you?” I nudged his knee, hoping we could go deeper. “Would you change anything?”

  Reed looked up at the ceiling. “Um, no? It’s the most fantastic job known to man. Or woman. Don’t you think?”

  I shrugged. If Reed thought everything was peachy, he obviously didn’t know about the poor subs who had their memory washed and magic stolen. If he did, would he still think it’s the best job ever? Or would he team up with me so together we could…what? Take over the magical world? “Reed. I have something I should tell you—”

  There was a knock on the door. I guess door-knocking at a high school party is approved for bathrooms, just not front doors. Noted. “Hey, whoever is in there, you need to hurry. There’s a line.”

  I cringed. Reed could block Façade, but not the one other eighth grader in the cast. Celeste Juniper, my ex-best friend. Former enemy. And now, since I’d helped her win second runner-up at Miss Teen Dream Idaho she was…a frenemy? Still, I did not need her walking in while Reed and I were talking in the bathroom. Who knew what rumor she would start.

  Reed jerked his head toward the tub and whispered,

  “Get in.”

  I did, soundlessly. He closed the shower curtain behind me. I crouched down and watched through the little slit between the curtain and tile.

  Reed cracked the door open. “Hi, Celeste. Where’s the fire?”

  Celeste’s voice turned to syrup. “Reed! I didn’t know you were in there.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t see this line you were worried about.”

  Celeste giggled. “If you don’t make things urgent, people don’t listen.”

  “Well, I was just making an urgent phone call.” Reed held up his cell phone for added effect. “And I need privacy. So would you mind finding another loo? Please?”

  “Loo! I love your Englandy words.”

  “I’m from New Zealand.”

  “Same thing.” She pouted her lips. “I just need to check my makeup. What do you think? Do I look all right?”

  I swallowed a laugh. Watching Celeste flirt without any reciprocation was awesome.

  A ringing interrupted my thoughts. Oh. My phone was ringing. Wait, let me rephrase that. MY PHONE WAS RINGING. I ripped it out of my pocket and tried to turn off my cell, but you can’t unring a ring.

  Celeste peeked behind Reed. “Is someone else in there?”

  “Nope. Just me.”

  “But that was a phone. In the shower. And you’re already holding your phone.”

  Either the girl had superhuman strength or she caught Reed by surprise, because she pushed past him and opened the shower curtain. I waved feebly.

  “Desi? What are you…Oh, my gosh…Were you two—”

  “No!” Reed and I shouted in unison.

  “We were just talking,” I said.

  “About…about the play. And, er…” Reed shot me a lost look.

  “Shakespeare’s comedies!” I added. “He was great at writing misunderstood situations. Just like this.”

  Celeste wrinkled her nose. “You were talking about Shakespeare. In the bathroom.”

  We nodded.

  “What you two want to do together is your business.” Celeste placed her hand over her heart. “You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell a soul that you were in here. I’m just going to find another bathroom now so you two can…be alone.”

  She skipped away. Not good. I laid my head down on the side of the tub.

  “What do you think she’s going to tell everyone?” Reed asked.

  I raised my head. “Probably that we got married and have three kids.”

  Reed’s expression turned thoughtful. “I always wanted four children, if that’s all right. Perhaps twins, if you can arrange it.”

  He was joking, of course, but…I still had a little happy jolt. Twins! I would dress them in matching overalls whenever we helped Reed’s parents on the farm. I wondered if our kids would be magical, too, what kind of zany adventures the old Pearson family would have—

  “So, what should we do?” Reed asked.

  “What? Oh.” I scrambled out of the tub. “I better call Kylee before Celeste finds her. Hold on a second.”

  Kylee answered on the third ring. “There you are. I just tried calling you.”

  “Yeah, sorry.” And thanks for calling at exactly that moment. Spot-on timing, my friend. “Did you finish your private lesson with Oberon?”

  “Gah!” Kylee exclaimed. “That guy is such a flirt.”

  “He’s never flirted with me, and we’re married.”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  Oh. I should have come up with a battle plan before calling. All that talk of twins muddled my head. (Would they have Reed’s skin color? I hope so. I burn easily, and I wouldn’t want to have to worry about sunscreen every time we went to the beach in New Zealand.)

  How long had Reed and I been in there talking? Half an hour? Even if it was five minutes, Kylee was going to grill me on our conversation. I didn’t think she would buy the Shakespeare comedies line, either. “Oh, I ran into Reed.”

  “Really? Seriously, where are you? I’ve been all over the house.”

  I stood. “Um, in the bathroom.”

  “You ran into Reed in the bathroom?” Kylee asked.

  “No. Well, sort of. Nothing embarrassing. He was, er, washing his hands. So we talked for a second.” I slapped my forehead. I was awful at this. “Just
go to the kitchen. I’ll meet you there.”

  I hung up the phone. “Reed. I know this is kind of a weird request, but can you, um, stay away from me? For the rest of the party? It’s just, I have to go talk to Kylee, and I don’t know how to act around you when she’s there. It’s been hard enough covering up my own magic from her, but she’s going to figure out that there’s more between us now.”

  Reed raised his eyebrows. “More between us?”

  “I mean, MAGIC. We both have it. And Façade. So, you know, it’s a connection. A work connection. We’re colleagues.”

  “Colleagues.” Reed moved his jaw, like he was chewing on the word. “Okay. But don’t worry about magic. I’ve covered it up my whole life. I’m a master of mystery.”

  “Well, keep up that disguise anytime the three of us are together. Things should be just how they were before.”

  “Right. How they were before.” Reed leaned over the sink and washed his hands. “But can we meet up again? Later? There are other things we need to talk about.”

  “Sure.” I was halfway down the hallway when something occurred to me. Did he mean other things about Façade? Or other things about…about us?

  For the first time in my life, I was glad to have a ten o’clock weekend curfew. Well, not a curfew, exactly. My dad still used the word bedtime.

  Dad picked up Kylee and me around the corner from the house. She didn’t bring up Reed. I think she was waiting for me to, and there was no way I was going to talk about that elephant. So we talked about the party food the whole way to Kylee’s house. When we pulled into her driveway, my dad looked at us in his rearview mirror.

  “I’m glad you girls had fun at the party and didn’t, I don’t know, swing from chandeliers. But next time you might want to branch away from the chips and dip.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Bascomb.” Kylee unclicked her seat belt and turned to me. “Hey, Des? Can we talk for a second? Outside?”

  My dad fiddled with the radio dial. “Go ahead. I’ll just listen to my music while you discuss the different pizza toppings.”

  Kylee and I slid out of the car and sat down on the curb. My dad was playing this old band called Bon Jovi and air-guitaring. “Do you think he was born a dork, or is that something you develop?” I asked Kylee.

  “It’s genetic. Look at you.”

  “Funny.”

  She twirled the tip of her braid. “So, you’re killing me. Tell me what happened. You ran into Reed in the bathroom, and then what?”

  “I told you. We talked for a bit.”

  “What about?”

  I yanked a weed from a crack in the sidewalk. Our magical employer. Same old. “Play stuff.”

  “Did you talk about Reed losing his donkey head?”

  You mean did we talk about kissing? “Kylee, why do you have to grill me every time I talk to Reed? It was a regular old conversation, just like any other conversation I’ve had with him.”

  She dropped her braid. “I don’t get the same chances to talk to him.”

  “That’s because you never create opportunities.”

  “So, did I come up?”

  “No.” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice, but I swear we’d had this talk a million times. It was mildly annoying before, but now this just plain sucked. What was I supposed to say to her? Yes, we liked the same boy, but I didn’t know he was the same boy when I started to like him, because he wasn’t the same boy at the time—he was a prince. I’d spent months thinking I liked Prince Karl, when all the wonderful things about him were really Reed pretending to be Karl. And I would tell her this, but if I did, I’d get fired. And maybe lose my magic.

  Oh, yeah. P.S., I have magic.

  “Okay,” she said. “Jeez. Sorry.”

  Here’s the thing about having magic: everyone has an emotion or trait that allows him or her to tune into his or her power. Mine’s empathy, so when I emotionally relate and connect to my clients, I’m able to channel my magic to help them. And that ability to magically serve isn’t exclusive to royals, despite what Façade would have its employees believe. Anyone could benefit from my magic, if I could just figure out what, exactly, I was capable of doing. So far, I’d managed to conjure up an agency bubble, talk to Celeste with my mind, and figure out what a lot of princesses wanted. But I had yet to come up with a concrete way to use my powers in real life.

  Right now would be a really good time for some magic. But it’s not like I could shoot a love potion out of my finger so that Kylee liked some other boy and our problem disappeared. It didn’t work like that.

  Wait. Unless it did! I had no idea what I was able to do using my magical emotion. Maybe I could clear this all up with a little cupid action.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on my supportive, sweet best friend and her crush on Reed and all her needs and feelings and problems and hopes. I pictured the perfect boy for her—someone funny and smart and talented and cute and NOT REED. I knew Kylee so well; it wasn’t hard to get my empathy pumping. Then I pointed, willing all my power to pool into my fingertip. Crush be gone. Alacazam!

  “Des? Why are you pointing at me?”

  I opened one eye. “Do you feel…anything special when I do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Point?”

  “Besides weirded out? No.”

  I dropped my hand. Stupid Cupid.

  “What, are you trying to put a hex on me so I’ll stop asking about Reed?” Kylee’s eyes lit up. “I saw that in this teen horror movie, Planet Hex, where this girl had a wand inserted into her fingernail, but it was controlled by an alien from this alternate galaxy—”

  I sighed while Kylee rambled on about the flick. My magic powers were a bust, but at least I deflected her questioning by reminding her of another scary movie.

  “—but then she ended up liking the alien, so it all worked out.”

  “Mmm hmm,” I said.

  “So, anyway.” Kylee flicked a rock in the gutter. “Did Reed ask you to the Winter Ball when you were in the bathroom?”

  “What are you talking about?” Sproutville’s Winter Ball was a huge festival with ice skating, hot chocolate, snowy sleigh rides, games, and yes…a “ball,” which was really just the community center jazzed up with decorations and a cheesy DJ. There weren’t many chances for girls my age to dance with boys, so they got all dressed up and pretended the “ball” was something fancier than it was. “Reed and I aren’t going together,” I said. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Kylee didn’t look at me when she spoke. “The only thing ridiculous is that you’re keeping something from your best friend.”

  “I’m not.” I rubbed my forehead. “Seriously, I told you that Reed and I—”

  “I know you, Des. I know when you’re nervous. I know when you’re lying. And things have been different ever since the play started. It’s like sometimes…you’re someone else, thinking about some other world. And you don’t tell me anything anymore.”

  I started to interrupt, but Kylee held up a hand. “Don’t deny it. And it’s like, it’s like Reed knows you better than me, even though you only saw each other at rehearsal. You’re different around him.”

  “Kylee! Listen, you are my very best friend and I tell you absolutely everything I can.”

  “Everything you can. But not everything.” She shook her head. “And that’s what hurts the most. More than the fact that we like the same boy and I think he likes you. I can get over that eventually. It’s a crush, not undying vampire love. I was already getting used to the fact that I would never be able to talk to him. But I think he knows what’s up with you. You’ve told him, but you won’t tell me.”

  I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. She was right. About all of it. And it blew my mind that Kylee knew me so well, that she was perceptive enough to know that I had a huge secret. It was just a much different secret than she thought.

  Kylee stood up and brushed off her jeans. “Sorry, that’s been on my mind for a whi
le. I guess the party just brought it out. I’m going inside.”

  “Yeah, I better go before someone from the party walks by and sees my dad head-banging in his car,” I said. “Can we talk more? Tomorrow?”

  “Maybe next week. I need some time to, um, think.” Kylee gave me a weak smile before running up her driveway and disappearing into her house.

  Whew. I didn’t have many solutions here. I had to either tell her the truth about Reed and Façade, or get my magic to fix everything. Otherwise, our friendship was going to take a serious hit. And it’s not like there are a million Kylees running around Idaho, or even the world. Or even this galaxy.

  While Kylee was probably home watching something dumb like My Best Friend Was Abducted by an Alien, I put on

  Casablanca, a movie I had always adored but now watched with special attention. Right before our play had started, Reed quoted a line from this movie. And my princely crush, Karl, said the same lines the first time I met him. Karl later claimed he hadn’t even heard of Casablanca. So how many freshman boys know lines from a seventy-year-old movie and use them in conversation? Reed had to be Karl’s sub. He had to.

  The movie ended, and the music from the credits was interrupted by a familiar vibrating sound from inside my purse. My manual. Wait, my manual? Now?

  So much for a quiet night at home.

  Darling,

  I hope this finds you well. I snuck into your final performance and saw you kiss that poor boy’s costume head. I hope it was dry-cleaned regularly. But, brava! So much spirit and talent. So strange that you would be cast alongside another employee of Façade, and a rather valuable one at that.

  Yes, we know about Reed Pearson. Of course we know. Although a relationship between subs is permissible, it’s not promoted. We don’t want you comparing circumstances—it’s important to remember every sub has a different experience. You are all special to the agency. So although we certainly won’t forbid you from remaining friends with Mr. Pearson now that you’re aware of your commonalities, we do hope you keep your interactions light. Focus on adolescent concerns, whatever those may be. No plotting to take over the greatest magical organization in the world. Ha!