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Authors: Lindsey Leavitt

Tags: #Fiction - Middle Grade

The Royal Treatment (17 page)

BOOK: The Royal Treatment
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Boom
.

I understood where the buzzing came from.

Boom
.

My magic tuned in when I truly put myself in someone else’s shoes, to the point that I could almost read their mind—no, read their
heart.
When I did that I became aware of exactly what they needed. My empathy served as an emotional, magical compass. And I clearly knew—KNEW—that Floressa wanted to move forward with her mom and build a relationship with her father
away
from the spotlight.

This interview could not go on.

Once again, I faced a decision that could very well cost me my job. I could see Meredith’s finger wagging at me already, but the consequences didn’t matter as much as this feeling. I had to do what was best for Floressa.

If Floressa ever wanted to get past her pain, she had to experience this drama for herself. And I had to go to the resort and bring her back so she could do that.

I stood up. “I can’t do this right now.”

Brenda, Gina, and the whole TV crew watched me in shock. I used their delayed reaction to my advantage and skated out of the living room, out the front door, and down the big winding driveway to the dense woods behind the house.

Once I hit dirt, I chucked off my skates and ran until I was far enough into the jungle that I wouldn’t be instantly spotted. I crouched down next to a gnarly tree and yanked out my manual, stopping for a second when I thought of Meredith. She wasn’t going to be happy when she found out I’d contacted Genevieve. I’d have to figure out a cover story for her later. Right now, I was dizzy with the need to help Floressa.

“Genevieve! Genevieve! I would like to summon Genevieve!”

Her assistant, Dominick, appeared on my screen. “Dominick, I need help.”

Dominick spoke. “Genevieve is unavailable at the moment. She is preparing for her birthday celebration. If you would like to leave a message—”

“No message! I’ve got a major royal scandal going on, I can’t get ahold of my agent, there is a TV crew looking for me, and…magic! I know all about my magic!”

“—then please do so at the beep.” Dominick smiled and I realized it was a recorded message, that he hadn’t heard a word I said. “Beep,” he added.

I hung up. There had to be some application on this manual that could help me. I scrolled through until I found a picture of a bubble. Emergency bubble.

EMERGENCY BUBBLE APPLICATION

Agents typically send emergency bubbles when subs must retreat quickly. There are rare occasions, however, when a sub must remove herself from a situation. At such times, the sub can summon an emergency bubble to take her to the agency or next destination for help. This is not a feature to be used lightly, as emergency bubbles are difficult to navigate, and although the Law of Duplicity can be employed, some timing issues involving the princess’s absence may arise. If the sub still finds her circumstance to be dire, an emergency bubble can be summoned by clicking HERE.

I clicked on the here and a form came up, asking me why I needed the bubble, how long I would need it, what my insurance information was, what bubble navigational system I preferred—

Someone, someone close, called Floressa’s name. I rushed through the information, and within seconds of hitting submit, I heard a sputtering in the tree bark. It oozed sap, and from that sap, a bubble gargled out, which grew into a clunky orb.

There wasn’t a permeable wall like in Meredith’s bubble. I had to twist open the creaky hatch and let myself in. And just in time. The voices were near when I shut the door, safe with the invisibility provided by MP.

The bubble was all knobs and dials, like a single-engine plane. Well, maybe it was like a single-engine plane—not that I’d ever been in one. What I did know was that I had no clue how to steer the thing. I jiggled a few of the knobs, but nothing happened.

I opened drawers, looking for some manual. Manual. Duh. I clicked around FAQ until I found the H
OW TO
F
LY
an E
MERGENCY
B
UBBLE
section.

Which was about a hundred pages long. The thing was a
textbook
that would require weeks to get through. I had, like, minutes.

I hit my head on the dash. I was stuck. Stuck living someone else’s life for them. I would NEVER get to be in that play now. I’d never even turn fourteen. Or see my family or friends or sit around in pajamas without worrying about my picture being taken.

I forced away my own problems and focused on the mess Floressa was in. I brushed angrily at my tears. Becoming a princess always
solved
the problems in fairy tales, it didn’t create them! What was going to happen to Floressa now?

“This isn’t fair to Floressa!” Through my tears, I hit the dash and started to scream, “Fly, you stupid thing! WHY DON’T YOU FLY?”

The bubble rose in the air, dipping up and down. “It’s flying,” I whispered to myself. “IT’S FLYING!” I jumped up and did a happy dance dorky enough that I prayed there wasn’t some sort of surveillance video watching me. I completed my gleeful shuffling and positioned myself in the pilot seat. The bubble’s steering wheel looked like one from an airplane, and I tipped it down. The bubble rose. Flight! I had made this happen.

Now I just needed to…go. “Uh, Bermuda Triangle? Façade Resort.”

The bubble shook, as if nodding in agreement, and flew up and forward. My sadness seeped away, though I was still jittery from my crying episode. Once the bubble steadied, I skimmed to the end of the instructions, checking that my transportation wasn’t actually possessed and steering me to the bowels of the earth. I read the very last line.

Of course, for experienced subs, there is always that Magical Option. Channel your MP and autopilot will take over, steering you where you want to go. Few have the skills to employ this, but if you do, sit back and enjoy the ride.

That Magical Option. I’d used it—used magic to do something besides look like a royal. The bubble worked as soon as I turned my thoughts to Floressa, felt empathy for her. My magic worked if I was using it on someone’s behalf.

I leaned back in my chair. This was the first manual mention, albeit vague, of a sub’s ability to employ magic beyond Royal Rouge. Did I need Rouge
and
my magical emotions to employ the magic? Or was the Rouge not necessary? I’d experienced the same feeling when I’d helped Celeste, after all. If this was the case, Genevieve really had lied. Good thing she didn’t answer my call.

I still didn’t understand
why
Façade kept magical information from subs, why they were hiding the magic under their top hat. I mulled this over for most of the long bubble ride—no warp speed with this clunker. The bubble hit turbulence thirty minutes or so in, the radar indicating entrance into the Bermuda Triangle. I held on to the bottom of my seat when the bubble began its descent. My ride may have been on autopilot, but did it have auto-land?

It did. Really junky auto-land. The bubble bumped and skidded a few times, nearly crashing before it stopped. I cracked my licorice-twisted neck. Another thing to check in the manual—disability insurance. The hatch resisted my first few pushes, but finally groaned open.

We’d landed, all right. Right on the most beautiful beach I had ever seen in my life. And I had seen it before—as a much more scaled-down version. Scaled down, like, to model size.

Chapter
21

S
ometime during the landing, the Rouge wore off, switching me back to my Titania costume. Part of me wanted to lie down and enjoy the tropical setting, especially after my panic attack, but I knew being around my client
while
I was subbing for her had to be messing up some sort of time rules. I picked my way up a dirt path that twisted into dense palm trees. Hidden behind those was the resort.

The model didn’t do it justice. It’s not like it was a monstrous resort—the size was much closer to the Holiday Inn Express we had in Sproutville. But this was a royal hideaway, and so the luxury meter was at full throttle.

Elegant and comfortable, the island-themed lobby incorporated all the natural beauty of the outside landscaping into the sleek design. It looked like the hotel could serve hundreds, but no one was there. Even the front desk was empty. I rang the crystal-encrusted bell, and a man poked his head out. He smiled, and wow—he looked like a young Will Smith.

“Can I help you?” He emerged from the back room and stood behind the desk. I couldn’t answer at first because his resemblance was more than a similarity. He
was
Will Smith, Will Smith early in his career. Maybe…maybe it was his son? But why would his son work at Façade Resort? The guy probably heard about the uncanny resemblance all the time and got sick of it. I decided to play it cool and not bring it up.

“Um, yeah. I’m looking for a guest.”

“We don’t release the whereabouts of our guests. Company privacy policy.”

I rested on the counter and lowered my voice. “Look…what’s your name?”

“Will.”

“Of course it is. Will, I’m on a top secret Level Two mission. I would tell you more, but you don’t have clearance to hear it. I flew in via emergency bubble and I’m in a time crunch. Can you please tell me where Floressa Chase is so I can finish saving her life?”

Will glanced around the empty lobby. “Are you her sub?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to have to check that out. Let me pull up the file and I’ll ask you some questions.”

Will tapped for a minute on his keyboard and glanced up at me. “Name?”

“Desi Bascomb.”

“Age? Birth date?”

“Thirteen. Well, fourteen on December tenth.”

“What is your greatest fear, Desi?”

I blinked. “They don’t have that in the computer.”

“I would think any employee, especially a Level Two, would realize that Façade knows
everything.”

“Fine. Um…being invisible. And big dogs.”

Will asked me a few more personal questions, and I tried not to squirm. Floressa owed me huge for my efforts. Like throw-in-your-yacht
huge
.

Finally, Will punched one more key and offered the charming smile that had made him famous. I mean, the
celebrity
famous.

“I can’t tell you the room, but I can tell you she’s by the pool bar.”

“Great.” I grabbed a mint from the bowl on the counter. “I’ll go find her.”

“Desi?”

I turned back around. “Huh?”

He pointed at a door to the left of the front desk. “Don’t forget your makeup before you go out there. You shouldn’t even be walking around without it.”

I looked down at my fairy costume. New clothes I could use, but makeup? I already had on the thick stage stuff, and besides, who cared about
makeup
when both Floressa Chases were here, meaning NO ONE was next to that old tree on the island.

I pushed open the door and nearly choked on my mint. The room was a mini-version of the Glamourification Studio’s makeup display, divided into two sections: the regular makeup, and a much larger selection of the Old Hollywood line. I saw newer names—like Meryl Streep Base Powder and Sandra Bullock Blush, but also a whole area filled with old starlets. Some of the slots were empty, like Marilyn Monroe, Doris Day, Grace Kelly…Maybe those were popular. I uncorked a Julie Andrews Poppy Red and rubbed it on my lips. The lipstick tingled like this expensive collagen plumping stuff my mom uses. There were no mirrors anywhere on display. Weird, but really, what
wasn’t
weird here?

I fumbled through my purse for my Rouge compact. The mirror inside was dirty, so I wiped it on my costume. I held it up to see my lips and almost screamed.

Looking back at me was not Desi Bascomb, or even Floressa Chase. I had transformed into Julie Andrews. Julie Andrews as she looked in the movie
Mary Poppins
, complete with bun, hat, and gray suit.

Will poked his head in. “Oh, good. You’ve transformed. Nice umbrella, by the way.”

By my side, sure enough, was my umbrella. Maybe if I opened it up, I could fly away to Normalville. I looked up at Will, and that’s when things clicked. “This makeup makes everyone…” I paused. I was now speaking in an eloquent British accent. “Makes everyone at the resort look and
sound
like the name on the bottle.”

“Well, usually. One time there was a mix-up when I put on some Lon Chaney for Halloween—you know, he was the original Phantom of the Opera in a silent movie—and I ended up looking like Jim Carrey from
The Mask
. But still. Cool costume.”

For an agency that prided itself on privacy, it made perfect sense. Multiple royals would be here at the same time. To avoid revealing which royals had subs, the agency made all the royals look like someone else. The fact that they looked like celebrities was probably loads of fun for them—escaping and playing pretend. Don’t a lot of celebrities use fake names when they check into hotels anyway? Façade took it further. Much, much further.

Of all the ways to use magic, this was where Façade focused its energy. Some poor girls got their magic ripped away if they didn’t “measure up,” while royals got to play dress-up. It wasn’t right. As soon as I cleaned up Floressa’s mess, Meredith and I were going to have a serious talk.

I spread my hand along the rows of empty slots. “So all the empty ones are being used.”

“We restock them once the guest checks out. The ladies get catty if someone steals their look.”

My eyes were drawn to the Marilyn Monroe slot. So Floressa. “Thanks. I think I know who I’m looking for now.”

Will stepped out of the doorway so I could pass. “Hey, Mary?”

I kept walking.

“Mary Poppins…er, Julie Andrews.”

“What?”

“You forgot your umbrella.” He held it out for me, a goofy smile on his face. I grabbed it and beelined to the pool, the wool suit already making me sweat. Dang, why hadn’t I picked someone else? Annette Funicello, star of sixties beach movies, would at least have a bathing suit on.

Floressa, a.k.a. Marilyn, was sunning by the pool in her signature fifties-style white bathing suit. I dragged a chair over and plopped down next to her. She lowered her sunglasses and smiled.

“Have I been a bad girl?” she asked in Marilyn’s sweet, high voice. “Do I need a nanny?”

I shoved the umbrella onto the seat next to me and leaned forward on my knees. “I feel like I
am
your nanny, actually, Floressa.”

“Hey, I’m in disguise. You’re not supposed to know that.”

“I’m your sub. And I’m here to take you home.”

Floressa sat up on her elbows. “If you’re my sub, then who is being me?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job.”

“I didn’t sign up to do it for
life
.”

“You shouldn’t be complaining.” Floressa stretched. “Most girls would love to be me.”

The sun was beating down hard. I took off my coat and loosened my bun. “That’s true. Because you have a great life, Floressa. One you should go back to and live for yourself.”

Floressa tore off her sunglasses and stared me down. “Just what do I have to get back to, exactly? The humiliation of knowing there’s a father who doesn’t want me?”

“I know it’s tough. But what about the mother who loves you?”

She shrugged. “If she loved me, she would have told me about my dad.”

“She did. She just did it late. Look, she planned this whole trip for you. And she is going to get all sorts of bad publicity for letting this info leak. She risked a lot for you. You’re not the only one hurting, here. Besides, your dad has only had one day to digest this information. Maybe he’ll come around.”

“So…” Floressa tapped her finger to her plump lips. “You’re saying if I go back, I’ll still have a chance to be his daughter. To be royal?”

“You
are
royal. It’s in your blood. That’s why you were able to use this agency.”

“Hmmmm…I always wanted to be a princess. I thought I would have to marry Barrett to get that.”

“And there’s Barrett! He’s waiting for you with his brother, Karl.”

“Who cares about Karl? That boy is such a bore.”

“Is not!”

“Oh, so you like him?” Floressa readjusted her shades. “I know he was having issues with Olivia. I can set you two up. Um…are you pretty underneath that disguise?”

Set me up.
This girl was classic. “I’m good, thanks.”

“I’m still not convinced. They have yummy cheesecake here, you know.”

“Fine. Stay, then,” I said. “Eat your cheesecake and I’ll go back to Barrett.”

“What?”

“Well, if you never go back, I’m not going to be able to hold him off forever. He’ll think you don’t like him anymore. So I guess I’m going to have to kiss him. To maintain appearances, of course.”

Floressa gave me an appraising look. “You’re good.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll go back. Let me go find the lady who signed in with me. Miranda.”

“Meredith?” I asked, searching the pool deck. Meredith had been
here
all along? Was that why she wasn’t answering my pleas for help? Someone needed a scolding from Miss Poppins, that’s for sure.

“Yeah, although she’s someone else now. There’s not too many people checked in. You could try the spa…Maybe the pool bar.”

The bar was far enough away that I couldn’t make out the two people sitting there. I stood. “Why don’t you relax while I arrange your ride home?”

“Uh-huh. Hey, you’re blocking my sun.”

I opened up my umbrella for shade. Too bad I couldn’t make it fly. That would be some entrance.

When I was close enough to see who it was, I smiled.

Grace Kelly was laughing loudly at something Frank Sinatra, her costar in Meredith’s favorite old movie,
High Society,
was whispering in her ear.

Frank Sinatra was a dreamboat, huh? Oh, she was so easy to figure out. I closed my umbrella and took a seat next to them.

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade, please,” I said to the bartender. “And can you add a spoonful of sugar?”

Grace and Frank ignored me, absorbed in their own intimate world. I leaned over and said, “Top of the morning to you, Meredith.”

Meredith swiveled in her chair, Grace Kelly’s ice blue eyes wide. “Who are you?”

“Mary Poppins. Lovely to meet you.” Ha! Disguises were fun.

Meredith pursed her lips. “Lilith?”

“Do you really think Lilith would go for Mary Poppins?”

“Desi.” Meredith exhaled. “What are you doing here?”

The bartender brought me my drink and I took a sip. “That’s a great question. Why don’t you answer it?”

“I told you I had things to do.”

“Right. And to only contact you in case of emergency. Which I did three times.”

“What emergency?”

“Oh, just your classic case of Royal Deciding She’s Never Coming Back. Ever.”

“And you’re here…”

“Via emergency bubble. To bring her back.”

“What? DESI.” Meredith glanced anxiously around the pool deck. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

“And you’re not supposed to leave your subs stranded. I’m guessing the agency looks down on that too.”

Meredith flopped her head down on the bar. “I forgot the charger for my manual.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And the reception is awful.”

“Sure.”

“This is why I never take vacations.”

Frank rubbed Meredith’s back. “Is everything going to be all right, darling?”

So, I knew Meredith had been talking to her prince, but I had no idea they were having secret vacations. It explained her recent behavior. It also made her incredibly human at this moment, even if she wasn’t in her own human image. I would never reveal her secret—Meredith was a friend, in a tells-me-what-to-do-and-can-be-rude-and-sometimes-I-think-she-might-hate-me kind of way. But this was a situation I could fully use to my advantage, and I was not about to miss the opportunity.

I stretched my hand across the bar and offered it to Frank. “Hi! You must be Meredith’s prince. I’m Desi, her favorite substitute.”

Meredith shot up. “How do you know who he is?”

“You just told me.”

Meredith grabbed my ruffled blouse. “If you ever tell ANYONE this, your career at Façade is over.
My
career at Façade would be over. Please, Desi. This is the only way we can meet.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

She loosened her grip.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, but you
are
going to tell me everything you know about magic.”

Meredith fumed. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Oh, I think you can. And you will, in exchange for my silence.”

“There’s a reason you don’t know things yet, Desi. You’re safer that way.”

“Safe from what? Doing some good? Just like what Façade should be doing instead of wasting it on Marilyn Monroe costumes.”

“That’s a big issue you’re poking at,” Meredith said.

“Well, I already poked enough to figure out my own magic.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.” Meredith rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Stop. We’re not going to argue about that now. This is what we’re going to do. We’ll take Floressa back. Genevieve’s party is tonight, so everyone will be busy and I’ll have an opportunity to show you some things. That’s the best I can do.”

“I’ll take it.” I hopped up from my seat. “Come find us when…when you’re ready to go.”

Meredith nodded miserably. I waved to Frank Sinatra, who gave me a quick bow. I’d covered half the pool deck when I turned back around. They were in the middle of a sweet farewell kiss, one that was movie worthy. I felt a pang of sympathy for Meredith, loving someone she couldn’t be with. I would say it was the same with Karl, but it wasn’t. My stint as Floressa showed me how little I really knew him. Karl was a great guy, sure, but he was Elsa’s. I was okay with that. The next boy I liked would live in my country and actually know I
existed.

BOOK: The Royal Treatment
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