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Authors: Lindsey Leavitt

Tags: #Fiction - Middle Grade

The Royal Treatment (13 page)

BOOK: The Royal Treatment
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It was during my quiet meditation time that the initial
I am Floressa Chase
shock wore off, and I started to consider what I wanted to accomplish while on this job. I was so busy going fangirl on Gina, I hadn’t thought about MP. And except for my transformation (which was the work of the Rouge), I hadn’t felt the buzzing once. If I ever wanted to discover more about magic’s possibility, or figure out Façade secrets, I would need to stay focused, Academy Award– winning actress or not.

On the third day, I awoke to a man in blue suede pants flicking cold water on me. Gina had neglected to include aquatic attack in the schedule.

“What?” I sat up and covered my face with my arms. “What do you want?”

The man set the glass of water on my small bedside table and gestured to my hair. “Would you look at this? I have less than three hours to get you photo friendly.”

I squinted at him, finally remembering Floressa’s profile. “You’re the stylist. Ryder.”

“Honey, don’t play the ditz with me. Too much to do.”

I flipped off the covers and slid out of bed. “Hold on. Bathroom.” I paused at the door. “Nice pants.”

“My personal fashion theme this week is Elvis. Naturally, blue suede shoes are too predictable.”

I brushed my teeth and splashed water on my face. Ryder was placing a mint on my pillow when I opened the door. The rest of the room had been tidied, and smelled fresh.

Ryder started talking without looking up. “Couldn’t help myself. The aura of this place was stagnant. So.” He turned to face me. “Big news flash: As soon as we docked this morning, a call came in from the palace. The king has invited you and your mother to dinner. THE. KING. I think he’s hoping your mom is going to do another movie here.” Ryder cocked an eyebrow up at me, but I had no clue how to interpret it. “Of course, your mother is in an absolute tizzy, so as soon as I’m done with you, I’ll have to talk her down. Gina Chase does not play the tizzy role well.”

“She’s met royalty before. Barrett’s royalty.” I sat down on the bed. “Maybe she’s surprised by the invite.”

“Whatever. If her skin breaks out, I’ll have to dig in to my antistress remedies. Again. So I already drew your baths for you on the deck. First mud, then my own special blend of rose petals and mint infusion. Then there’s your mani and pedi of course—your cuticles must be weeping after a week of going unattended—and don’t hate me, but Gloria had an award show
emergency
so I had to get another aesthetician flown in stat. I have your wardrobe choices prepared in the leisure area, although now with this extra engagement, I hope fifteen outfits is enough of a choice. Oh! And I know there was much debate on this, but did you decide on curls or casual chignon? Personally, with this humidity, I think you’re safer with the curls. More carefree and innocent. Remember, your image consultant recommends you not deviate far from the girl-next-door model. I’ve also ordered you a fruit plate for breakfast. Easy on the cantaloupe.”

Ryder walked out the door, leaving me sitting on the bed, openmouthed. Was that English he was speaking? Or Hollywood?

“Let’s go!” he called. “And leave those tacky roller skates under your bed.”

I scrambled out of my cabin and into a day filled with beauty horrors too graphic to replay. By that afternoon, I’d been nipped, trimmed, tucked, coifed, and rolled into an emerald green sundress with stilettos so high they made the roller skates seem practical. I teetered on the deck, my stomach rumbling and my feet already hurting. Focusing on mind and soul was far more doable than this.

“You would swear you’ve never worn five-inch heels before. Poise! Poise!” Ryder said.

“Not on a swaying yacht,” I whined, not caring if I was in or out of character at this point.

“There’s my precious daughter.” Gina glided across the deck, not an ounce of worry or stress evident on her face. I hadn’t seen her much that day, what with our different beauty teams working their torture. “Sorry if Ryder was rough on you, but you’ll thank me when you see what your surprise is. Or, rather, who.”

“Ryder already told me about the king.”

“Not a king, but you’re not far off.”

“Floressa? Babe, get down here!” someone called from the dock. I hobbled to the edge of the yacht and looked down to see Prince Barrett beaming up at me. “Surprised?”

My mouth hung open. Surprised? Um, yeah. I’d written two texts to him during the last couple of days and thought my Barrett business was done. Now the arrogant, gorgeous prince who I wasn’t even supposed to talk to, let alone
see,
was only a few feet away. I turned to Gina. “That’s my surprise?”

She clapped her hands together. “You get so little vacation time. And you were such a sport about this trip, I thought you deserved some paparazzi-free time with your boyfriend. I love that you had no clue! Did you like his fishing trip lie? Barrett flew in with his brother—”

“His brother?” The words scratched my throat.

“Yes, well, you know how his parents are about Barrett’s need for a chaperone. Don’t worry, Prince Karl won’t be hanging around the whole time.”

“Prince Karl is
here?
On the island?
This
island?

“Yes.” Gina rolled her eyes. “And so is your boyfriend. Really, Flossie, this isn’t difficult to comprehend. Now run down there and have a moment before we leave for dinner.”

Ryder fluffed my hair. “Please promise you’ll be mindful of your lip gloss situation. I’ll be on call if there are any emergencies.”

Lip gloss emergencies? PRINCE KARL WAS ON THE ISLAND. Lip gloss was the least of my worries.

Chapter
17

I
hobbled over to the dock entrance, taking careful steps down the ramp and onto dry land. Walking is usually a skill that comes easily to me. I have been doing it since I was one. But there was the whole roller-skating/stiletto/sea-legs dilemma. Even worse, Karl picked that precise moment to step out of the limo and join his brother.

And then, I forgot everything. Walking. Legs. Those things you put your shoes on that are attached to legs. Oh, right. Feet. Who could worry about the details when the boy I’d been dreaming about for months was right there in front of me? I could just…reach out and touch him.

He smiled politely when I approached. My legs wobbled from the smile and I lurched forward. Karl caught me. “Are you all right?”

I don’t know how many times I’d fantasized about being in Karl’s arms. How we would connect, and no matter who I was in that moment, he would know I was ME and that I was the one he loved. But Karl was stiff with his embrace, making the contact far less epic than I’d hoped. The truth was, I wasn’t me. I was Floressa, Karl’s brother’s girlfriend. Floressa and Karl had probably never touched beyond a handshake. I tried to right myself again, but my legs were still two sticks of Jell-O. Barrett finally grasped my hand and wrapped me in his arms.

“Lay off my goods, brude.”

“I was helping her.” Karl’s face went red. “Please forgive the familiarity, Floressa.”

“Maybe you should learn to hold on to your own girl instead,” Barrett said.

“That wasn’t necessary.” Karl was so cute when he was uncomfortable! “I was only helping.”

“I’m kidding.” Barrett gazed down at me. “Now,
you
look delicious.”

I pinched a smile onto my face. Being flopped from one prince to another was beyond disorienting. “Thanks.”

“And you’re so adorable when you pretend to be embarrassed. As if you don’t know that you’re the most gorgeous girl on this island.” He squeezed me tighter. “I’m so glad we’re going to be together tonight.”

“Together?” I asked. “But Gina and I are meeting with the king.”

“I’m in on the invite. It’s not every day the Crown Prince of Fenmar rolls up to town. And I’m hoping your mom distracts the king so we can be alone.”

In the last five minutes I’d gone from text messaging to finding myself in Barrett’s embrace. And although he was hot (
very, very hot
), this wasn’t what I wanted or needed right now. I still had to wrap my head around the fact that Karl was here and…Floressa was going to freak. “Alone? Well, what is Karl doing?”

Barrett turned to his brother. “Karl will probably spend the night listening to Celine Dion, eating ice cream, and crying manly tears.”

“Why?”

“Ress, you should have seen it. He had a major falling-out with Olivia. And by falling-out, I mean she was throwing china at him while he sat there making his I-must-be-a-proper-prince face. Entertaining, but pathetic.”

“Hold on. It wasn’t like that.” Karl shuffled his foot on the deck. “We’re amicable. Olivia was simply heated in the moment.”

“Heated when she saw that tabloid picture. It’s so wonderfully sordid, isn’t it? Finally I’m not the prince on the cover. Finally Mum and Dad are giving lectures to Karl on proper behavior.”

“So, are you broken up?” I asked Karl, trying to keep the hope out of my voice.

“For now.” Karl ran a hand down his face. “Rather, we’re…taking a break. It’s not as dramatic as Barrett is painting it.”

“They’re done,” Barrett said. “Which is too bad because Olivia may have been crazy, but she was hot. Not as hot as you, though, babe.”

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t talk about Olivia that way.”

“Although, so is that Elsa chick. She’s got that whole farm-girl thing going for her.”

Karl cut Barrett an angry look. “Leave Elsa out of this, too. Truly, Barrett, you’re worse than the press.”

“I’m proud of you, brude. I was starting to wonder if you were human.”

Karl and Olivia broke up. If they broke up, then Karl was single. His brother mentioned the Elsa tabloid. Had he talked to Elsa? What would happen now?

Forget that. What about
right now
? Karl was standing directly in front of me. He would be alone tonight. Eating ice cream. Crying manly tears and…Oh, please, let the Celine Dion part be a joke.

“You should come with us,” I said, my words tumbling out before I could even consider them. Hey, it wasn’t entirely self-serving. Having another person around would be a great barrier between Barrett and me. “It is a royal thing and you
are
royal. Plus, no one should be alone right after a breakup.”

“Well”—Karl glanced at Barrett—“it
would
be nice to get out after being cooped up on that plane.”

Barrett squeezed my waist and lowered his voice. “But what about our alone time, babe?”

“Later! I’m still…seasick anyway.”

“You’re on land now.”

“Landsick then. Or I have sea legs.” I moved his hand off my waist. “We’ll have gallons of time together tomorrow. Gina won’t mind. Tonight, I’m lucky to have two royal escorts.”

Barrett tapped me on my nose. “You always want more, don’t you?”

I glanced back and forth between the two princes.
If by more, you mean more drama, then yes. Apparently I do.

The palace was amazing. Of course. It’s a palace. What else would it be? But I was so nervous about having Karl appear out of nowhere, not to mention eating with my famous actress mother, my hot prince boyfriend, and some random king, that I barely took in anything. Oh, fancy chandelier. Line of servants. Expensive art and lots of breakable stuff, like a life-size bronze elephant statue in the entryway.

I didn’t have to worry about deflecting Barrett too much, because Gina insisted on holding my hand. She startled at every noise and her skin was cold and clammy. I found it oddly comforting that someone as famous as Gina would be nervous.

I wondered how big this night would be for Floressa. She’d had no clue her boyfriend was going to show up. Maybe she’d rather be on the island after all. At the very least, I could tell her about the changes in the schedule.

Surely Façade would approve of contact if it was in the client’s best interest.

I could find a way to talk to her. Floressa was all over the Internet.

I asked a servant to show me the bathroom before we met with the king. The pamper room—with a sitting area and four sinks—wasn’t as private as I’d hoped, so I sat down on the toilet and wrote a text to Meredith.

Desi:
Barrett showed up as a surprise for Floressa AND we’re dining with the King of Tharma. Think Floressa might want to know. Can you make that happen?

I sat and stared at the screen for the next five minutes. Meredith had never taken this long to reply. I wrote another one:

Desi:
URGENT!!!! ASAP!!! 911!! MEREDITH?

Another five minutes of “radio silence.” I couldn’t keep everyone waiting much longer. I scrolled back to Floressa’s page. No contact and no chat room information because she was a new client. Desperate, I Googled her name and found a social-networking account. She got hundreds of messages a day, and she probably wasn’t checking, but what else could I do?

Floressa,

I’ve been “skating” around things all day, but now I’m in “royal” trouble and can use your help before the “sub” sinks. Please contact me at [email protected] for further details. Not looking for money. Just want to help.

D

Our dinner party was small, even if the dinner
table
was not. Barrett sat to my left, with Karl and Gina across from us. We all stood when a servant announced the royal family’s entry.

The doors swung open, revealing King Aung and a nine- or ten-year-old girl with wispy bangs and small features. She rushed over to the seat on my right.

“Wow. Floressa Chase! I feel like I know you already.”

“Oh. Well, thank you…Princess.”

“Princess Isla. I want to be just like you. Where did you get that dress?”

I looked down at it, kicking myself for not checking the designer. “Um, from my closet.”

“Oh my gosh! Did you hear that, father? She’s funny. Floressa Chase told me a joke.”

“You must excuse my daughter’s enthusiasm.” King Aung smiled. “It’s an exciting dinner crowd, even for us. Please have a seat.”

“I bet you designed it yourself,” Isla chattered on as we all sat. “Did you design it yourself? I have everything from your spring season. Magenta is so hot right now, isn’t it?”

“Magenta? Uh, yes. Blazing.”

King Aung chuckled. There was something startlingly familiar about him, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Well, he was a
king
, and handsome. For an old guy. I’d probably noticed his picture in the manual.

I watched each of the party guests, trying to gauge what they knew about each other based on their mannerisms and expressions. Gina seemed to agree about the handsome part—she didn’t take her eyes off the king once.

“I appreciate your accepting our invitation, Miss Chase.”

“Are you seriously going to use ‘Miss’ on me? Come on, Aung. It’s Gina.”

We all stiffened at Gina’s use of the king’s first name. He smiled graciously. “Of course, Gina. Old friends can be more…familiar, I suppose.”

Barrett cocked an eyebrow at me. Old friends?

Gina’s laugh tinkled, but there was something hysterical underneath it. “Yes, it’s been a while since I filmed
Once Upon an Island
. It’s a tragedy it’s taken me so long to return. I’d say about seventeen years.”

The king took a sip of water. “Remarkable. Time flies, does it not?”

“In some ways, yes. In others, no.”

They exchanged a meaningful glance. Barrett kicked me under the table and mouthed “What’s going on?” I shook my head. How would I know how Gina knew the king? She hadn’t mentioned any connection when we’d discussed the invite.

“Yes,
Once Upon an Island
was a joy to work on, especially since I took time off after to have Floressa.”

“This I know,” King Aung said. “And now, here she is.”

“Oh, sorry.” Gina beamed at me. “I forgot introductions.”

She introduced me, and I smiled despite the king’s somber gaze. Barrett and Karl knew the king from royal circles, and together eased into a conversation about their favorite golf heroes. The first course was brought out. Gina continued to gawk at the king, so I turned to Isla.

“I like your necklace.”

She grasped the chain. “You wore one like it to the
Rose and Water
premier. That was when you were dating Charles Voorhees, who I’m sure is nice, but he is no Prince Barrett. Don’t you agree?”

“You remember what necklace I wore?”

“I told you, I am your biggest fan. I’m actually in your fan club, but I used a false name to hide my identity. You don’t know what it’s like to meet you. You’re my idol!”

I played with my napkin. “Thanks.”

“I can’t tell you how excited I was when my dad said you were coming over. I mean, I knew he’d met your mom, because he has a picture of them together in his office—”

“He does?”

“It was taken when she did that movie. I used to play with it when I was younger, pretend like Gina was my aunt and we were cousins. I’ve been begging to meet you for months. Usually, father agrees right away—I’ve met many celebrities. But you, he always brushed away. Then when your mom’s manager called and said she was coming to visit…well, it was perfect. I asked my father to have a dinner as an early birthday present to me.”

“It’s your birthday?”

“In five months.” She grabbed my arm. “Do you want to see my closet? The palace?”

I snuck another glance at Gina, who was sneaking a glance at the king, who was sneaking a glance back at her. “Actually, why don’t you show me your dad’s office and that picture of my mom?”

BOOK: The Royal Treatment
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