A Princess for Hire Book

by Lindsey Leavitt

  I couldn’t believe this girl. How could I in good conscience take this job? She wanted me to impact her life at the risk of destroying others. I couldn’t do that. I knew her mom, Gina. I liked Gina. When I’d last subbed for Floressa, I’d seen how upset Gina was when she got into a fight with King Aung, and now they were happy. Floressa’s half sister was happy. Why couldn’t Floressa just go with it? Not to mention, if anything went wrong, Elsa would be Floressa’s scapegoat. Real Elsa, not me. This went against everything I stood for as a sub. I pushed the plate of beets away and stood.

  “Sorry, Floressa, but I’m not your girl. I’m not going to help you ruin your mom’s wedding.”

  Floressa’s fork froze midway to her mouth. “But you have to. I’m paying you.”

  “Keep your money.”

  “But you are the only one who understands what I’m going through.”

  I patted my pocket for my manual. I would summon my bubble and go tell Meredith, or I guess Genevieve, why I couldn’t do this job. I didn’t know what happened when you refused to do a gig, but everyone had limits, and Floressa had crossed mine. “You couldn’t pay me enough to ruin someone’s life.”

  “I’ll pay you double.” She set her fork down and kneeled down on the carpet in front of me. “And you’re not ruining their life. Just their wedding.”

  “No.” I had no idea what Floressa paid, but I could only guess that I made a lot of dough at Level Three, probably more than my dad made. Still not enough to sell my integrity.

  “Triple?”

  “Floressa? Where are you?” A voice, a very familiar voice, called from the front entryway.

  “It’s Bear-Bear.” Floressa jumped up and glanced wildly around the room. “Don’t tell him about my plan. He’ll say it’s a bad idea.”

  “That’s because it is a bad idea.”

  Floressa crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, are you going to do this or not? Because if you don’t, I’ll give you a really bad PPT.”

  Princess Progress Report. “It’s PPR.” And what did I care about that? Floressa could say I did the best job ever and it wouldn’t erase the trouble I’d get into if I got caught searching for Caprice.

  “Whatever. I’ll make it so you can’t sub anymore.”

  “Flossie?” Barrett was getting closer.

  I let out a frustrated grunt. I didn’t care so much about my future with Façade, but I did need to stay on this job. Reed and I were never going to get another opportunity like this. So I looked Floressa straight in the eye and…bluffed. “Destroying the wedding would go against, er, royal confidentiality agreements to harm another royal. And there’s another rule that says I can’t defile Elsa’s reputation. The agency won’t allow it. If they found out what you’re doing, they wouldn’t send you another sub. Not ever. You’d lose me as a Match, too.”

  Floressa’s face fell. “Really?”

  “Really.” I tried to keep the relief out of my voice. “Sorry. But I can totally help you with your dress and getting all your guests into the wedding. And that’ll give you time to reconsider doing anything drastic.”

  “Oh.” Floressa blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. Stay. Stupid agency rules.”

  “Right.” And I never break agency rules.

  “Guess I’ll just have to ruin the wedding myself,” she said thoughtfully. “And find a way for you to accidentally help, so I can blame you later. Yeah, that’ll work.”

  “What? No, I won’t—”

  Barrett came barreling into the room. “There you are!” He rushed over to Floressa and swept her into his arms.

  She squealed. “Don’t kiss me. I have beet breath.”

  “I love beets.” Barrett leaned in to give Floressa a passionate and uncomfortably long kiss. When they came up for air, he grinned at me and said, “Hey there, Elsa. I could give you a kiss, too. You know, from my brother.”

  Floressa pinched his arm. “Don’t even joke. Besides, if she likes Karl, she obviously wouldn’t like you. You’re too handsome.”

  “Smart girl.” Barrett kissed her forehead. “Man, it’s the perfect day for biking. You want to go for a ride?”

  “I already did my hair.” Floressa nestled into Barrett.

  “What about you, Elsa? I bet you don’t ride many motorcycles in Metzahg.”

  I looked away and blushed, just like Elsa would. “I’m fine.”

  “She can’t go on a motorcycle with you!” Floressa’s voice rose. “She’d have to hug you and get close. No girl gets near my man.”

  “Get your claws back.” Barrett’s eyes crinkled. “Besides,

  Elsa’s been in love with Karl since they were two. She’s practically my sister. One quick spin? The hills here are awesome.”

  “No, seriously, I’m good.”

  Barrett finally made eye contact with me. “Really fast. I’ll show you some evergreen trees in the area.”

  EVERGREEN. Gah, I was an idiot. This wasn’t Barrett, this was Reed, and he’d found a perfect excuse for us to be alone to talk. He’d been so in character, so Barrett, I hadn’t realized that this was a Sproutville boy in front of me. The boy I kind of had a crush on, who had his arm around one of the most gorgeous model/actress/heiress/princesses in the world. He’d kissed her, too, and not a dunk tank or stage kiss. That was major beet action. “Oh. Wow. I really love evergreen trees. I guess I could, even if you aren’t Karl.”

  Floressa made a pouty face. “Okay, take her. We just had a big-girl talk anyway, and she probably needs some time to think about why she’s here. Right, Elsa?”

  “No I don’t.”

  “Yes you do!” Floressa tapped me on the head. “Don’t you get it? I get what I want, one way or the other. So you might as well make it easy for us both.”

  “Floressa—”

  “Now, go look at those stupid trees with my boyfriend so he’ll be happy. And don’t go thinking you can switch princes. That Fenmar boy is mine.”

  Barrett was already walking to the front door. We followed him outside, and there on the circular driveway was a black motorcycle. I didn’t know a thing about motorcycles, but it looked expensive. Barrett/Reed handed me a pink helmet and threw his leg over the side of the bike. I hesitated. I knew this was a great opportunity for us, but my safety-scared father would die if he knew I was getting on one of these things. I shot Floressa a look. She was giggling.

  “Never mind. She’s scared. I totally want to see this.”

  Barrett revved up the engine. “See you in fifteen minutes, babe. And have the chef take those nasty beet salads away and make us some real food. Something with meat. You’re too skinny.”

  Floressa stuck her tongue out at Barrett. I squeezed in behind him and wrapped my arms loosely around him “You’re going to need to hold on tighter than that,” he said. I could barely hear him over the roar of the motorcycle. “Just pretend we’re on my tandem bike touring Sproutville.”

  It was the perfect thing to say. This was exactly what I needed to do and where I needed to be. I squeezed Reed harder, and we were off.

  Floressa blew a kiss from the driveway. Reed waved, then turned the corner. “There’s a park a few blocks away,” he said. “Let’s go there and it’ll give us some time to talk.”

  “Yeah, I have news,” I said.

  “So do I.” Reed leaned into the right turn as we drove uphill. “I might have found our lost sub.”

  A few well-dressed kids toddled through the sandbox while their nannies fed them organic snacks. Reed and I sat on the swing set, a seat apart from each other, in case a roving paparazzo spotted two royals together who were actually together with other people.

  Reed managed to keep Barrett’s usual bored expression on his face as he shared the details. “So I looked online and hired a detective to find all the women named Caprice in Hollywood who are also actresses.”

  “Seriously? We’ve only been here for an hour or so.”

  “I’m not the one babysitting Floressa. It was easy. I als
o figured Caprice needed to be between twenty-five and forty-five if she subbed when Meredith was a Watcher. And Meredith said the sub was Italian, right?”

  “Yeah, Caprice left Italy after Façade kicked her out. Not that she remembers that.”

  “Well, we found four girls named Caprice who fit that description.”

  “That’s awesome!” I jumped off the swing. “Let’s go visit them now.”

  Reed shook his head. “They live all over the valley—we wouldn’t have time to see one. Besides, Façade’s going to get suspicious if we’re running around meeting a bunch of girls with the same name. We have to get them together somehow.”

  A kid kicked a ball by us, and his nanny came over to retrieve it. She had a magazine in her hand. I’d bought the same copy. Barrett was on the cover with Floressa. She bent over, picked up the ball, and when she looked up at Barrett, froze. “You’re a prince,” she squeaked.

  Reed grinned. “Guilty.”

  “Did you buy a home here? Oh my gosh, my employer loves you.”

  “Just visiting.”

  “Can you sign my magazine?”

  Reed patted his leather jacket for a pen. “Sure.” He scribbled his name across the top. I had no idea what Barrett’s signature really looked like. That was a good thing for a Match to practice.

  He handed the magazine back to her and she clutched it to her chest. “This so beats meeting that soap opera star last week. Everyone will die of jealousy when they hear I met a prince!” She ran over to the other nannies, who looked up sharply at Barrett and me.

  “Guess we should go,” he grumbled.

  “Hey, wait. Think about what she just said.”

  “That I’m a prince. Yeah.”

  “No, bringing the Caprices together.” I smacked my leg. “I’m supposed to add people to the wedding guest list for Floressa. So I’ll add all these Caprices too. It’s a party hosted by an Academy Award winner. A struggling actress would kill for that invite.”

  “Brilliant.”

  I gave a mock curtsy. “I try.”

  “I can’t believe Floressa put you in charge of something like guest-list additions.”

  “It gets worse,” I lowered my voice. “She wants me to ruin the wedding.”

  Reed’s eyes bugged. “You’re kidding. Why would she want you to do that?”

  “Because she doesn’t want to go live in Tharma, among other reasons.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Talk her out of it, I guess. It wasn’t the kind of plotting I had in mind.”

  Reed grabbed my wrist, excited. My skin tingled with energy. “Not what you had in mind, but it’s perfect!”

  “No way. Too many people would be hurt.”

  “Don’t really ruin the wedding. Just let Floressa think you are.”

  “What? Why?”

  Reed dropped my wrist and strode over to his motorcycle. I hurried after him.

  “This will be the perfect way to distract Floressa. Look, I’ll take care of contacting the Caprices and getting them into the wedding along with Floressa’s extra invite list.”

  “But Floressa told me I had to.”

  “That’s because she thinks I’m Barrett and doesn’t want to involve him.” Reed waved at the nannies standing at the edge of the grass staring at us. “You keep Floressa happy and brainstorm questions to ask the Caprices.”

  “Hey, remember how you said there is an application on the manual that can tell if someone is a sub?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t used it yet. But this girl isn’t a sub anymore.”

  “But maybe there’s a little trace of magic left and it’ll show up on the radar. It’s worth trying, right?”

  Reed glanced back at the nannies. “It wouldn’t hurt. Might help narrow down somehow.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Final question. What do we do when we know we have the right girl?”

  “I don’t know. Find a way to make her remember?”

  “But she had her memory washed.”

  “Hey, I found the girls. You work out that part.” He handed me my helmet. “We have to get back. That nanny just pulled out her camera phone.”

  He shoved his helmet over his head before the nannies had a chance to get a decent shot. We zipped down the hills and back into Floressa’s driveway. He parked the bike and jumped off. “Hurry. Floressa’s going to give me grief if we’re gone too long.”

  My stomach flipped. He was certainly in a rush to get back to her. I wondered how many times Reed had subbed for Barrett, how many times he’d seen Floressa. How many times he’d kissed her. No, I didn’t want to know the answer to that.

  Floressa ran out to meet us. “Des—Elsa. Ryder’s here. Emergency. He wants to do a color analysis on you, stat. I think you’re a summer, but he swears you’re a winter. Come on!”

  I turned to Reed, but he was already getting back on the motorcycle. He revved his engine. “Have fun, girls. Big day coming up.”

  Now that Floressa thought I was on board with her plan to ruin the wedding, we got along much better. And I would never publicly admit this, but the next two days of whirlwind planning and scheming with Floressa was, well…It was fun. Floressa had this way of sucking you into her world, until you got to this point where it almost felt normal to design four dresses for one party. I let myself get into the glitter and glam because if I sat down for one second, my stomach pitted up with the epic task ahead of me, both with Floressa and with Caprice.

  The night before the wedding, Floressa and I shoe shopped in her bedroom. A salesman from an elite boutique had set up hundreds of shoes in our sizes. I was trying on a pair of green sandals that cost more than my dad’s car when Gina came into the room, glowing and grinning. “Flossie! There you girls are. Are you prepared for the party tomorrow?”

  Floressa rolled her eyes. “I already told her about the wedding, Mom.”

  “Honey, stop blabbing!” Gina offered me an encouraging smile. “Not that I think you’ll tell anyone, dear, but I’ve gone to such great lengths to keep this secret. My publicist doesn’t even know.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m royal—I understand the importance of secrecy.”

  She squeezed my shoulder. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how giddy I am about tomorrow.”

  “It’s your fourth wedding.” Floressa yawned.

  “Well, my first marriage was to the king, and since we’re getting married again, I’ll count it as three.”

  “That’s like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton,” I said.

  “Who?” Floressa asked.

  “They were, like, the biggest Hollywood couple of the sixties,” I said. “She was married eight times, twice to Richard Burton.”

  “Do you watch a lot of old movies on your farm?” Floressa asked, confused.

  Nope. Elsa probably does not. I examined my new manicure. “I, er, read about it in some Elizabeth Taylor tribute piece.”

  “Well, third time’s the charm for me,” Gina said. “Aung is it. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

  Floressa didn’t say anything.

  “He’s a lucky man,” I said.

  Gina brushed her hand along Floressa’s hair. “And Floressa will have a father, and a sister, and a title. It’s a wonderful package deal. We’re all lucky.”

  “Oooh, look at these ones!” Floressa dove for a pair of gold pumps. “Perfect!”

  Gina laughed. “Well, I’ll let you girls get back to your shopping. Floressa, I e-mailed you some ideas for your toast.”

  “I’m not doing a toast,” Floressa said.

  “Well, in case you change your mind,” Gina said, the pain clear in her voice.

  I waited until Gina was gone to hit Floressa with my sandal. “Why are you so mean to her?”

  “Oh, please. She’s ruining my life. Let’s not get into it.”

  “But did you see how excited she was about your dad? She’s totally in love.”

  “She was in love with her last two husbands, too.
Trust me, it’s not going to last.” She checked her watch. “So, what have you figured out for the wedding-ruining stuff?”

  Under any other circumstance, I would run out and tell Gina what Floressa was planning. It physically hurt, knowing I might be a part of causing someone grief. And worse, I couldn’t feel one molecule of magic when subbing for Floressa, because I couldn’t relate to her in this situation. I didn’t feel bad for her, or want to understand her better. Zippo empathy.

  What I wanted to do was slap her. But only after she gave me the new shoes.

  “You really want to go through with this?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Floressa said firmly. “That’s why you’re here. So. Ideas?”

  “I had one.”

  Floressa dragged me over to her bed and propped herself on her elbows. “Spill.”

  “I wrote up a press release about the wedding,” I said slowly. “If we send it out, every major news source will be all over the story. The privacy will be blown, and your mom will call it off.”

  “For now. She’ll just do another ceremony later.”

  “What, do you want me to make your parents break up forever and hate each other?”

  “Not hate each other.” Floressa chewed on her lip and looked away. “Just never want to get married. Seriously, my life will be a nightmare. Living with a new family I don’t know in a new country I don’t like. That can’t happen.”

  “I can’t make them fall out of love. Even magic can’t override that.”

  “Fine. Magic, shmagic. But we’ll wait to send out the press release until right before the ceremony. I still want the party. And one more important question.”

  “What?” I asked wearily.

  She pointed to the shoes. “Gold or silver?”

  The next morning, I found Floressa surrounded by a flurry of makeup artists and hairdressers. The ceremony was at a private ranch in the mountains outside of Malibu. Gina and the king had already gone up for final preparations, and Floressa, Barrett, and I were supposed to meet them in three hours. Which meant crunch time for the Floressa team. Ryder, her main stylist, was trying to sew Floressa into her purple minidress, but she wasn’t cooperating. Surprise.