Reed leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “I’m in.”
“Don’t you want to hear what the job is?”
“Another part of having truth as my emotion? Sometimes you don’t have to hear the truth—you can feel it. And I trust you so much, Desi, that I am behind you one hundred percent on any new adventure. Plus, we’ll still get to see each other, once I move.”
I grinned. “Yeah, we will, huh?”
“So I want to hear all about the firing and rehiring, but first I think this is the perfect time to give you your birthday present.” Reed reached behind the seat and produced a small box wrapped in gold paper. “I remember you told my parents that it’s your birthday tomorrow, and with all the other things going on in your life, you probably haven’t thought about it much. And fourteen is a big age.”
I peeled back the paper and opened the box. When I saw what was inside, I threw my head back and laughed. A tiara. A real, honest-to-goodness, Celeste-might-wear-this-at-herpageant TIARA. I pushed back the pink tissue paper and held up my gift in the moonlight. “It’s the best present ever.”
“I know you were joking when you said the reason you worked at Façade was so you could wear tiaras, but I thought you should still have one of your very own. Besides, you’re, uh, more awesome than any princess I’ve ever met.”
I elbowed his side. “Even Floressa Chase?”
“Especially Floressa Chase.”
“Oh, come on. I bet you were excited that you got to kiss her.”
“No way. I’ve had to kiss a lot of princesses.” Reed reached over and stuck my tiara on my head. “I’ve kissed Elsa before, too, but you’re not acting weird about that.”
“What?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Barrett kissed ELSA?”
“No, Karl did.”
“But you’re Barrett.”
Reed knocked on my head. “And you’re dense. I’ve subbed for Karl, too. He had me come to Metzahg when he first reunited with Elsa, because he couldn’t break up with her on his own. But when I got there, I decided Elsa was just too cool to pass up and told him he should come back and face her. So he did, they kissed, and now they’re doing the whole happily-ever-after thing.”
“So, you were there?” I asked, misty-eyed. “In the garden?”
“Yeah, I walked around a garden. How’d you know that?”
“I was subbing for Elsa.” I was right. Reed was the prince I’d first fallen for. And he was the boy who saved me from the dunk tank. And the sub who’d helped me stand up to Façade. He was everyone. He was everything. “So what does this mean?”
“Desi, I liked you the first time I met you. Yeah, Elsa was really cool that day, so it makes sense if you were her. But honestly? I like you just as you. Not as a princess. Not as a sub.” He reached over and took my hand under the blanket. “Just Desi.”
And I realized that it didn’t matter if part of the time he was Karl—if I kind of had liked Karl—because right now, it was just Reed. Just Reed and me.
“Do you like old movies?” I asked.
“Some of them. I watch them to study acting.”
“But you know Casablanca.”
His face filled with understanding. “Yeah. That was you quoting lines, wasn’t it?”
I nodded.
He leaned in and smiled at me, our faces inches apart. “You know what other line I like?”
I shook my head.
“I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
And then Just Reed leaned over and gave Just Desi a soft, quick kiss. We weren’t royals, we weren’t actors, and he wasn’t saving me from a dunk tank.
And that five-second kiss was my most magical moment yet.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the following people for being a part of the creation of this book, and part of this whole wacky series. On paper, they’re just names, but in life, they are essential to this process and to keeping my brain working.
My agent: Sarah Davies, who is a mentor and a friend. Wow, my little unfinished WIP is now a series. How did that happen? Oh, that’s right. I met you.
My editor: Catherine Onder, who is professional and warm, smart and savvy. Your suggestions on this book took things in the directions they were always supposed to go. Thanks for being my guide through Desi’s world.
My publisher: Hayley Wagreich, Stephanie Lurie, Hallie Patterson, Dina Sherman, Sara Ortiz, Nellie Kurtzman, Andrew Sansone, Ann Dye, Whitney Manger, Marci Senders, Joann Hill, Marybeth Tregarthen, David Jaffe, Sharon Krinsky, and Emily Schultz. I’ve harbored a lifelong love of all things Disney, and y’all have turned that love to near obsession. Thanks for adding so much sparkle to this series.
My daughters: Rylee, Talin, and Logan. Do you know why I wanted to become a writer? Because when Rylee was a baby, I held her in my arms and thought, I want to teach my daughters to go after their dreams. And so, to show you that, I finally went after my writing dream, and it actually came true. But really? My biggest dream fullfilled is each of you. I’m so lucky to be your mom.
My husband: Curry. I love that even though we have such different interests and occupations, we still have a shared love of life. I love when you get defensive about reviews, even though they’re totally right, that character was two-dimensional. I love when you give me the standard speech: “Yes, you’re going to finish this book. No, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Of course you know what you’re doing. Fine, I’ll get you a Slurpee.”
Mostly, I love you.
My parents: Carol and Eric Taylor. Mom, you’re crazy, but I love your crazy. And Dad, next book, we’re going epic. Like, Middle Earth EPIC. Start inventing a new Elvish language—I’ll definitely have some questions. Thank you both for always having the answers.
My child care: Sinclair Johnson. Thanks for the babysitting, wherein no babies were actually sat upon. At least not by you.
Morgan and Kaylee Taylor, Rachel and Spencer Orr, Jan and Berne Leavitt. Since cloning authors is not yet legal, you are the next best thing. You love my kids, and I love you for all of your help. And you love me and they love you and…Okay, this is starting to sound like a Barney song.
My writing friends: Holly Westland. Girl, you’re good. Thanks for reminding me who Desi is and what she needed to do.
Lisa Schroeder, Rachel Hawkins, Becca Fitzpatrick, and Emily Wing Smith. Sweet snow bunnies, you showed me the light through the darkest plotting moments. Shelli Johannes-Wells, thanks for the bed(s) and the laughs. Irene Latham, your Southern hospitality is unparalleled. And L. K. Madigan, who is no longer with us in body, but always is in spirit, always through her words. I miss you, Lees. Triple L’s forever and ever.
My book peeps: thank you especially to Crystal Perkins, a tireless book advocate and dear friend. The staff at The King’s English, my local independent bookstore that just happens to be six hours away. Uncle Kyle, for being TKE’s very best customer; Uncle Ed, for the Houston support; and my brother Brett, for making that whole standing-in-front-of-an-entire-junior-high nightmare come true, but in a good way. And thank you to the many schools, book clubs, bloggers, and libraries who have championed Desi’s story. One of the best things about writing these books is that it gave me the chance to meet you.
My beverage of choice: Diet Pepsi; you’re a sweet seductress. Someday I’ll quit you. But not until I turn in that next book.…
My readers: the fact that you even exist is still a marvel to me. Thank you for your time and support, but most of all, for opening your imagination to this world. These books are done, but the story never ends.
Cue music to The Never Ending Story.
Cue readers to watch the 1984 classic The NeverEnding Story so you’ll have an idea what I’m talking about. I think it’s on sale at Target right now.
on Archive.
A Princess for Hire Book Page 21
