A Princess for Hire Book

by Lindsey Leavitt

  In other news, preparations have already begun for my promotion to the Façade council. Such a delicious secret I’ve been carrying around—the news will be announced at an upcoming formal ceremony. What to wear, what to wear? While I consider that, you should get started on your next gig. Yes, I’ve included your Betterment of Elite Sub Training, better known as BEST. Although BEST is still considered part of Level Two, we’ve never had a sub rise so suddenly, and we’re still making arrangements for your promotion. Usually, a match is selected after a sub has worked for a particular client many times over many years. So we’d like you to do this job while we finalize your long-term position.

  And don’t worry. This list might seem daunting, but now that you’re so in tune with your magical emotion, we know you’ll shine in any position! Empathy can be felt for the strongest or feeblest of princesses, and once you get going, your magic will take care of the rest. Mastery of this BEST list would be impossible, so do what you are able. Further information on this particular princess will be available once we feel you’re prepared for the task. Which should be soon. You’ve had your time to play, now it’s time for work.

  Ta-ta,

  Meredith

  Betterment of Elite Sub Training

  Gymnastics

  Coding and advanced computer technology

  Lock-picking

  Fencing

  Karate

  Sculpture

  Build up a tolerance to pain

  Stealth

  I shook my manual a couple times. Somehow, I’d been sent a list for a ninja movie action hero, not a princess. But the words didn’t budge. This was legit.

  At least I knew how to use my magic when I was subbing. I literally put myself in my client’s shoes and intuitively knew what they wanted or needed. And I was going to need all the help I could get because…Building up a tolerance to pain? That has to be breaking some employment laws right there. And it’s not like they had stuntwoman training in Idaho. Not to mention gymnastics. Given my inability to do a somersault, the outlook was not good.

  As always, I had no clue when Meredith would be back. The BEST list was created to prepare me for my next job, and in the past I’d had weeks, even months, of research before beginning the gig. Quality over quantity, Meredith said. But that obviously wasn’t the case anymore. They wanted me, and they wanted me soon.

  What they wanted me to do, I still couldn’t say. But

  I had a feeling this job was not going to involve a ball gown.

  I spent the rest of my weekend preparing for my BEST by watching old ninja movies and fiddling with a homemade lock-picking kit I had read about. As far as building up a tolerance to pain, I’d once heard that my favorite actress, screen legend Audrey Hepburn, used to pluck her nose hairs when she needed to cry in a movie. And yeah, the exercise brought tears to my eyes. I just hoped my biggest casualty was losing nose hairs, not major body parts.

  I didn’t do any more research beyond that. I could have done a search on karate/fencing/gymnastic princesses in the sub chat room and figured out my client’s name. Really, how many princesses fit that BEST description? But I needed more time to talk to Reed before I went back to work. I wasn’t ready for Façade just yet.

  Then again, I wasn’t really prepared for school on Monday either.

  It started in homeroom when Celeste’s boyfriend, Hayden Garrison, leaned over and whispered, “So how long have you been going out with that guy from New Zealand?”

  Why was Hayden Garrison talking to me? He never talked to me—the kid still thought my name was Daisy. Six months ago, when I still had a stupid crush on the guy, I would have danced with glee. Now I just stared at him blankly.

  “Huh?”

  “Celeste told me you were going out with…What’s his name?”

  “You mean, Reed?”

  “Yeah. I heard he’s sixteen.”

  I jerked back. “He’s not sixteen. And no! I’m not going out with him.”

  “Oh.” Hayden shrugged. “’Kay. Just asking.”

  And for the next three periods, the popular people noticed me, asked me the same thing or even crazier versions—So, I heard you’re skipping a grade next year so you two can have all the same classes together. Which meant that Kylee had heard these same rumors. One look at her in the lunch line confirmed this.

  Even a magical love potion couldn’t help the rift in our friendship now. If she thought I was keeping things from her before, rumors of my supposed “relationship” with Reed had sent Kylee over the edge.

  She didn’t even make eye contact with me, just ran right out of the cafeteria. I followed after her, tripping on a stray backpack. She wasn’t there when I got to the main hallway. My skin tingled with empathy, and I closed my eyes hoping that some magical solution would come. How could I fix this?

  A little voice in the back of my head whispered: Go tell her about your magic.

  Oh, yeah. Truth. That would help. She’d totally believe that. I’m sure Façade would love that, too. I squeezed my eyes even tighter and asked myself, my magic, again. What do I do?

  Give her a hug.

  I kicked a nearby locker. Seriously, magic. A hug? A HUG? Unless you’re a cuddly woodland creature in a cheery musical cartoon, a hug doesn’t fix anything. Thanks for nothing.

  This double-life thing was really starting to suck.

  Kylee ran away from me when I tried to talk to her during last period, and of course she didn’t answer any of my zillion calls or texts. So after school, I ordered her a fruit basket online. I couldn’t tell her my secrets, but at least I could give the girl some pears.

  The sooner I figured out what I wanted to do with Façade, the sooner I could master my magic, which hopefully wouldn’t feed me any more “hugging” garbage. So I made another phone call, one that I was almost dreading more than convincing Kylee that all was well.

  “Hi, Reed. How are you? It’s Desi Bascomb.”

  “Hi, Desi Bascomb, also known as the only Desi I know.”

  “Just wanted to make sure.”

  “And I know your voice. And I have caller ID—”

  I rolled my eyes. He could be so aggravating sometimes. “Are you criticizing my greeting now?”

  “Sorry. Hi.”

  I took a breath. “So I’m calling to talk about—”

  “Hey, why don’t you come over?”

  “Oh, um, that’s okay.” A boy’s house? No way would my parents let that happen. Not to mention, I mean, I can’t go to his house! Way too weird. “We can just talk now. You know, about—”

  “Elephants. I know. But it’s probably better in person.”

  And then I understood. Reed didn’t think it was safe for us to talk over the phone. In person we could mute ourselves. It was the first time I had the courage to call a boy, and we couldn’t talk because our magical employer might hear us.

  “Oh. Yeah. Elephants. I have a lot of questions about those.”

  “So why don’t you come with me to work?”

  “The roller-skating rink?” I asked. “Will they let me?”

  “Sure. I’m supposed to start getting stuff together for some big event next month. You can help me. It’s your civic duty.”

  Civic duty. Civic duties were parent approved. “Great, I’ll meet you at Crystal Palace, then.”

  “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

  Fifteen minutes sounded reasonable enough, but nothing was reasonable when it came to my dad. He’d come home early to help with my little sister, Gracie, since my mom wasn’t feeling well. Again. Truthfully, I thought she was overworking herself with all her pageant consultations. Ever since Celeste had placed second runner-up, her schedule was packed and her energy level seemed way down. She probably needed to eat better—she skipped dinner a lot and ate ice cream instead. And as much as I loved my dad and as nice as it was to spend time with him, everything was a little more…labor intensive when he was around.

  It took half an hour to get over to
the skating rink, because we had to wait until Gracie woke up from her nap. Then my dad had to pack a diaper bag, even though he wasn’t getting out of the car. Then he had to load a grumpy Gracie into her car seat. Then he drove four miles an hour on a thirty-five mph road.

  “Dad, have you ever heard the expression ‘put the pedal to the metal’?” I asked.

  “All the time. It’s what people do before they get into car accidents.”

  “Arghh.”

  “Look, we’re here. And, hey, I like the shirt.”

  I smiled down at the new print on my purple thermal—ON A ROLL with a little blue roller skate. I hoped Reed appreciated it too. I was kind of second-guessing making a shirt that was just for his entertainment.

  Dad cleared his throat. “Actually, Princess, I wanted to ask you something.”

  I unclicked my seat belt. “Yeah?”

  “Is everything all right?”

  Why was everyone always asking me that? “Sure.”

  “Good. It’s just that…Mom found a lock-picking kit in your room.”

  I froze. Why hadn’t I hidden that? At least she didn’t find my manual. “That wouldn’t happen if she wasn’t so crazy about cleaning. You’d think with her being so tired, she could cut back on her vacuum rampages.”

  Dad snorted. “Mom’s not tired.”

  “She’s napping right now.”

  “Oh.” He cut me a look. “You noticed.”

  “Yeah, I’m quick like that.” Why’d he act like a nap was something scandalous? I’d be tired too if I was a mom and doing all those pageants and going Mrs. Clean on our house all day. “So I appreciate it, but maybe she could nap more and leave my stuff alone.”

  “True, but…do I need to worry about you? You aren’t”—he laughed softly. Nervously—“turning to a life of crime, are you?”

  “No, I’m just sharpening my Girl Scout skills.”

  “But you were never in Girl Scouts.”

  Life of crime. He was so far off, and yet so right. I leaned over the seat and pecked him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Dad. Whatever it is I’m doing, I’m very well paid.”

  I shut the door and ran over to the back of Crystal Palace. Reed’s tandem bike was propped up against the wall. I couldn’t believe he was biking in this cool weather. I gave his horn a little honk. He poked his head out and grinned.

  “Took you long enough. Awesome shirt, by the way.”

  I was going to wear this shirt every day for the rest of my life. And, wow. Reed had a nice smile. Was his smile always that nice? And why couldn’t I tone down my own goofy grin around him? This was highly unprofessional.

  I followed him inside. The skating rink was empty, but music was playing and the disco ball was turning. “It’s senior citizen skate day.” Reed shook his head. “I keep telling the owner, Chuck, that it’s a bad idea. No one ever shows. But it means I have some extra time to get things going for this event. Come on.”

  I expected a room filled with colorful balloons and crepe paper, but the large party room was packed with shoe boxes. I removed a lid, and another. Ice skates. “Wait,” I said, my heart sinking. “What party is this?”

  “Some festival happening next month. Chuck is one of the organizers, so we run the ice-skating rink. I’ve got to clean all the skates, check the laces, that kind of stuff. And we have to decorate the ticket booth, and Chuck’s sister is on the decorations committee so he also volunteered me for that. It’s still a month away, but with Thanksgiving next week and Christmas stuff, he wants us to get as much done as we can. It must be some party.”

  “It’s the Winter Ball,” I said.

  “Please tell me you did not just make that up. This town has a ball?”

  “You’ve lived in Sproutville for five months now, Reed. Why does this surprise you?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been to galas and balls all around the world, just never thought I’d have the opportunity to attend one in Sproutville.”

  “You were right before—it’s more like a festival with a dance attached.” I swung my leg over the side of the picnic table and started unlacing a skate. “They do snow sculptures in the park next to the community center, and the madrigal group sings with a band. There’s a forest decorated with lights, the school kids make snowflakes, and there’s punch and—”

  “Punch? Red or pink?”

  “Don’t make fun.” For all its quirks, Sproutville was my home. It was okay if I found fault with it, but Reed was still a newcomer, a very well-traveled newcomer, and I imagined he looked at this place like the Podunk capital of the world. “It’s tradition. Everyone in town dresses up, there’s glitter and snow, and it’s pretty magical.”

  “Why do they dress up?”

  “Oh, for the dance.”

  “Are you going?” he asked.

  He wasn’t asking if I was going because he wanted me to go with him. He was making small talk. Wasn’t he? “Like I said, everyone goes.”

  “Huh.”

  Want to know what I wished my special emotion was? Mind reading. Even selective, Reed-mind reading would be great.

  “It does sound cool.” He slid next to me on the bench.

  Not super close. Maybe two feet away close. Not that I was mentally measuring the distance. “But you know what I don’t get? Why does everyone think glitter equals magic? Do you know how much glitter we have at Specter? Zip. It’s the second most magical building in the world after Façade, and the only thing you’ll see twinkling there is the gold.”

  “What is Specter like?” I tucked my knees under my chin, grateful for the subject change.

  “It’s in London—a big time boys’ club. Not football games and potato chips; more like expensive gadgets and open space and power. I imagine Façade is different.”

  “You haven’t been there?” I asked. “But you’ve been working for them for so long.”

  “Specter has everything subs need to perform, so there was never a reason to go to the main office. I was actually invited to Genevieve’s costume party, but that was our play’s opening night, and it felt like too much to manage.”

  “I went. Sort of. I mean, I was at Façade that night. But for other reasons.” Other reasons being Meredith took me to the sub-sanitation room to see colorful canisters of stolen, synthesized magic. In case you didn’t hear about that. “Specter was there, actually, doing all these games.”

  “Yeah. Big rivalry. Did you know they didn’t have guy subs until the Victorian era because they were worried that men would be less noble with the power? So the women run the show. I think some of the guys look at the competitions as a chance to show their manliness.”

  “They had a pie-eating contest.”

  “I know. I trained for months for that. I even tried rhubarb.”

  I made a face. “I didn’t even know Specter existed until I figured you out.”

  “Figured me out when you snuck up on me.”

  “You were the one with your manual in plain view.”

  Reed wiggled his eyebrows. “You consider a male dressing room plain view?”

  Something crashed in the rink. We both startled. Reed recovered first and stuck his head out the door. “Hello?” When no one answered, he slipped into the darkness in pursuit of the noise.

  I hugged myself. Meredith’s little note attached to my BEST list made me nervous that Façade was watching, and I didn’t want anyone interrupting us right now. I needed to tell Reed about the sub-sanitation room, and then I needed him to help me come up with a clear plan.

  Reed shrugged when he came back. “I didn’t see anyone. Hope no one was trying to get in.”

  “Maybe a bubble crashed back there.”

  “We better stay low, then.” Reed pushed some boxes over and sat down on the table. “This is so weird that you even know about bubbles. I’ve never talked to anyone about my job before. I have my parents, but it’s been so long since they subbed.”

  “At least you have them,” I flipped open a shoe box
and started relacing another skate. “I feel like I’m living a double life. Kylee went off on me today because she thinks we have a secret, which we do, and then there were the rumors—”

  “What rumors?”

  “Oh.” Of course he wouldn’t know. Celeste had spread the gossip at my school, but Reed was in high school. “Nothing.”

  “Did it have something to do with the party?” Reed’s expression was bemused. “Did she give us three kids or four?”

  “Shut up. Bathroom bonding is big stuff in junior high.”

  “What did you say to everyone?” Reed asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.” Reed stared at me with a gaze so intense I could swear his magical talent was X-ray vision.

  “Just…the truth. At least the part of the truth I could say.” I looked down. I couldn’t handle him when he looked at me like that. “That we were just friends talking.”

  I’d missed one of the holes and had to undo the laces. I yanked at them furiously, relieved I had a task to focus on, when Reed gently bent down and whispered in my ear.

  “I think we have different definitions of the truth.”

  Did that mean we weren’t “just” talking since the conversation was about Façade, or did he mean that he thought we were more than “just” friends? And did it matter, either way? It’s not like we could ever be more, not with Kylee and Façade. I exhaled. He was so close, I could hear him breathing. I could feel him breathing. And when I was this close to him, the air became so heavy with magic that I could hardly breathe.

  There was a jolt in my side, just like the first time I ever saw Reed, just like when he pulled me out of the dunk tank, just like when we held hands couple-skating, and just like when we stage-kissed.

  “Manual,” he said in a low voice.

  “What?”

  “Your manual just went off.” He patted his pockets. “Didn’t you feel that jolt? Mine, too.”

  Oh. Okay. The manual made the jolt. Of course.

  I fumbled in my purse, which was so old lady, but I had to carry my Façade stuff in something. My manual was indeed dinging, and I almost threw it, partially to make it stop, but mostly because of the interruption.