The Royal Treatment (19 page)

Genevieve’s phone rang, and she reached across her desk to pick it up. “Yes? Really? Those brutes.” She placed her hand over the receiver. “Specter.”

Meredith rolled her eyes.

“No, I’m almost done,” Genevieve said into the phone. “Do not start the pie-eating contest without me.”

She hung up. “I’m a slave to healthy competition. I must return to the festivities. Both of you consider the offer, and let me know as soon as possible. We
are
restructuring, although the rumor isn’t true. I’m
not
retiring. This girl still has some tricks left.” She hurried us out the office door.

Back in the sanitation room, Meredith’s bubble was already waiting. Genevieve said, “I summoned it for you. So nice to chat, Desi. I know it’s a lot to digest, but we are a respected, venerable, worldwide institution. There is much good you can accomplish with us. I trust you’ll make the right choice.”

I wasn’t sure how much of a choice I had, but I waved good-bye to her and slipped into the bubble.

Meredith jumped onto her couch. “Council!
Council
!”

“That’s great, Mer.”

“I’m not even going to scold you for the
Mer
.” She bounced around the pillows. “Mer. Mer. I don’t care! Lilith is going to scream. After all these years, and COUNCIL!!”

“I’m, uh…going to leave you alone to celebrate.”

I shut the door of Meredith’s office. Not only did I have a lot of soul-searching to do, but there was a play starting as soon as I got home. If I thought about this too much right now—about the room and a promotion and empathy—I wouldn’t have any space in my brain for my lines. I sat crossed-legged on the floor and worked on some of Gina’s character-meditation exercises. If Mrs. Olman only knew.

Ten minutes later, Meredith floated into her office and rummaged through her desk. “Wait until he hears about this. I never dreamed I could make council. I could amend
laws
there.”

I opened one eye. “Do you mean your prince?”

She stood behind her desk, manual in hand, her eyebrows knit together as she read something on her screen. Within seconds, Meredith fell to the floor. My all-business, hard-nosed agent had fainted.

I picked up her manual. The message on the screen had two simple words. Probably the only words that could be bigger than the council promotion.

MARRY ME.

I had to decide if I would stay with an agency I didn’t fully trust. But Meredith’s choice, it seemed, was a lot more epic than mine.

O
nce I got her conscious, Meredith flew me home in record time. We didn’t talk—didn’t discuss the promotion or the text. She was visibly shaken, so I eased her onto the couch and had her sip water. When we landed, Meredith simply said, “We’ll talk about what this means. Soon. Ta-ta, and break a leg.”

I made sure no legs were broken as I slipped backstage. I was getting a headache. You’d think with all the products they manufactured, Façade could venture into magical sub medicine.

I elbowed my way into the busy dressing room to check that my face didn’t look as shocked as I felt.

“Des! There you are.” Kylee grabbed my arm. “I snuck back to see you before the play starts. You look so beautiful.”

I ran my fingers across the beads of my dress. I much preferred it to the Mary Poppins look. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. Although, wait…” Kylee rummaged through her purse until she found a purple plastic compact. Ah, how simple my life was when makeup was only makeup. “This will cover up the shine. And you might want to find some blush. You’re looking pale.”

Mrs. Olman yelled backstage. “Actors! Fifteen minutes!”

“You’re mom is saving me a seat. Did you make her the shirt she’s wearing?”

“No, is it mine?” I asked

“It says
Team Desi
. Your dad and Gracie have them too.”

The news poured over me like warm maple syrup. My family was solid. Real. Here, in Idaho. Never before had I been so happy for the
normalcy
of my life.

“And, hey,” Kylee said, “I wanted to give you a good-luck hug.”

A true friend gives you exactly what you need, even if she has no idea why you need it. I hugged Kylee back, squeezing my eyes shut while tears slipped onto her shoulder. Kylee finally drew back and gave me a puzzled look.

“You okay?”

I brushed away a tear. “Yeah. Just…it’s been a long day. It’s a big day.”

“Here. You have a little mascara—” Kylee wiped my cheeks. “I know this is tough, but this is your moment. Drink it up, ’kay?”

I nodded. “Too bad I don’t have Reed’s donkey head. Then I could cry all I wanted.”

“Speaking of, I saw him a second ago.”

“Yeah? Did you talk?”

“No. You know what?” Kylee blew at a bang. “I don’t know if it’s worth feeling like this. I get so nauseous every time he’s around. I’d have to buy stock in Pepto-Bismol if we ever went out.”

“But you two would be so cute together.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” The houselights flickered. “Why are we even talking about this? Go do jumping jacks, or whatever you theater geeks do to get ready.”

“Kylee…thanks.”

She gave me one more quick hug. “Go Team Desi.”

Titania wasn’t in the first act, so I found a spot in the wings to watch. The craziness of the plot drew me in, pulling me away from my real-life worries. The great thing about a play like
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
is that it has such a dreamlike quality. Even the words sound foreign, like a song to which you don’t know the lyrics but you understand the meaning.

The audience applauded when my first scene with Oberon ended. I raced backstage and used the minutes until my next scene to rehearse. When Act III started, I slipped onto the darkened stage and pretended to sleep through the love spell, sleep until donkey Reed showed up to awaken me. I kept my eyes shut—not too tight—and tried my best not to move.

Reed’s deep voice sang a silly song.…

“The ousel-cock, so black of hue,

With orange-tawny bill…
”

The stage vibrated with each oafish stomp. The audience was already laughing, hungry for comedic relief.

“The throstle with his note so true,

The wren with little quill…”

The sound of Bottom’s voice ignited the love spell. My eyes fluttered open.
“What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?”

Reed kept on singing. I squinted at him and my stomach dropped. Reed wasn’t wearing his donkey head. Instead, he had on some makeshift ears and brown face paint. He smirked at me when he finished his song.

That’s right. I’d been so focused on Façade business that I’d forgotten about Reed’s lost donkey head. And now I was going to have to
kiss
him. That’s how the scene ended. And no donkey head would be between us. We hadn’t even rehearsed this! I’d never stage kissed! The last time I’d even made lip contact had been at the dunk tank. When Reed saved me. And I wasn’t even conscious.

I made it through my lines. Celeste and the other fairies floated onto the stage, fawning over Bottom. The audience loved it—Reed could really ham it up. But then he said his last line, and it was my turn.

I stumbled over the first few words. Reed grabbed my hands and gave me a squeeze of encouragement, all the while looking at me with donkey love.

I ran my hand along the side of his face. With the donkey head on, it was much funnier. Now it was almost…tender. He tipped his head to the side, like we’d practiced in rehearsals. So far, it was all like we’d practiced. Reed sings, I’m in love, the audience laughs, fairies dance, and…kiss.

We’d gone over it so many times, but this moment was different. Everyone was watching us, and Reed was watching me with his probing stare. His dark eyes. His waiting lips.

I stroked his cheek again and leaned in.

We kissed.

And the ground
shook.

Or I did. Or he did. We did? I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. The kiss was only a couple of seconds, but I felt like I’d been flipped over and smacked in the face with a rainbow. Or something. All I know is, my emotions, my magic, went beyond buzzing. The energy shot out of my toes, my fingers…my lips. It was every magic moment I’d ever had, and then some.

It was…it was…

Just like kissing Karl. But
better.

The stage went dark. We hurried off, and Reed grabbed my hand.

“Wow. Remind me to have a wardrobe malfunction more often.”

I turned away. “I better go check my makeup.”

“Wait.” Reed rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to say this, but…but did you feel something? Something, like…” His voice trailed off.

Magic,
I wanted to say. But of course I didn’t. I couldn’t!

Not only was Reed my best friend’s sort-of crush, I could never explain the feelings, the sensation pulsing through me right now. Unless, maybe, I was super tapped into Titania and my empathy was making
her
feel the love spell?

No. It was almost as if the strength or power of my magic had been multiplied. Doubled. Ugh, but that made no sense. This wasn’t a magical marvel, this was a stage kiss in a high school play. It was nothing.

It had to be nothing.

“You’re a terrific actor, Reed. I have to go.”

I turned away and raced into the dressing room. Girls chattered and fiddled with each other’s hair. Someone had written
All the world’s a stage!
in lipstick across a vanity mirror. I wiped at it until I could see my face. Everything was going to be fine. Just a shock to the system. That’s what happens when you don’t practice without the donkey head.

I sat for a few minutes, listening to my cast mates, comforted by the rise and fall of meaningless conversation. My next part with Reed was only a scene away. It was hard enough talking to him after he’d saved my life; I didn’t know how to face him now. Probably best to go talk first. Break the tension. Act like we hadn’t kissed the world’s greatest kiss.

I crept backstage, avoiding the groupings of techies and actors. Reed wasn’t there, so I picked my way to the boys’ dressing room. A sign on the door read no pranks. stay out.

I knocked, and when no one answered, pushed my way in.

“Hello?”

Reed sat in a folding chair in the corner. He was bent over, typing on something, and didn’t look up when I came in. I took a step closer. The device in his hands looked like a cell phone. Kind of. There was a screen, some keys. Very high-tech. I would have thought it was some expensive electronic toy if I hadn’t seen it before.

Except I knew it wasn’t technological, but techno-
magical.

Reed looked up and shoved his manual behind his back. “What? What is it?”

I took a step away. Reed had a manual. Which meant Reed was a sub. Wait, a SUB? It seemed totally impossible, but he had to be. Why else would he have a manual?

Specter. The secret agency branch. IT WAS BOYS. Princes, kings, maybe some dukes…male royalty subs. And the girls of Façade—Glimmer, that’s what Meredith called our branch—had a natural rivalry with Specter boys.

Reed had left some unintentional clues. He traveled the world. And had lots of “acting” experience. And was always trying to size people up—the same as I would on a job. I bet he bolted at the skating rink when Kylee fell because his manual went off.

Holy Specter. HE HAD A MANUAL.

My head spun. That must have been why our contact felt so magical. It
was
magical. Double the magic. I slammed the door shut and leaned against it with my hands on my knees, so I wouldn’t throw up. Reed opened the door slowly. I almost ran away, but stopped when he said my name.

“Desi. Sorry, I was just sending a text to my mom.”

He thought it was a smooth lie, and it would have been in a different circumstance, with a non-magical person. He didn’t know I had anything to do with Façade. Why would he? If I hadn’t seen him using his manual myself, I would never have believed it.

“I’m glad you found me.” He lowered his voice. “We need to talk about…Look, Desi, that kiss—”

“Can I see your phone?” Façade had a rule—you can’t talk about Façade. But what if I didn’t
say
anything? What if Reed found out by, uh, accident?

“No. It’s my dad’s and it’s expensive. Sorry, he doesn’t like anyone else using it.”

“Yeah, I know. I have the same one.”

Reed chuckled. “I doubt it.”

“See?” I pulled out mine. “It gets great reception, huh?”

Of all the things I’d witnessed in the last few hours, the expression on Reed’s face was the best. Poor guy looked like he’d swallowed his donkey head. My shock dissolved into giddiness. He stammered, “But, where did you…How did you…Are you a…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Reed, Desi!” The stage manager hissed at us from the hallway. “Get out here. You two are on in a minute!”

We stood in the wings together, side by side. Reed’s mouth was still agape.

“It makes sense if you think about it,” I mused. “You get two people together who have you-know-what, and sparks are going to fly.”

Reed’s cue was about to start. He pointed at me and said, “Tonight. There’s a party. And we’re going to talk.”

“Yes.”

“Because this is crazy.”

“Totally.”

“Okay. Well.” He tugged at a strand of my hair. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re not supposed to say that.”

“Fine. How about…” He squinted at me.
“Here’s looking at you, kid.”

The smile melted off my face. “What did you say?”

“It’s a line. From a movie.” He shrugged and burst onto the stage with a hee-haw.

It was a line. From
Casablanca
. The same line KARL had said to me when I was Elsa. The same line Karl didn’t recognize when I said it to him as Floressa.

Which meant…nothing. Right? Lots of people know that line. Just because Reed said it, and Reed was a sub, it didn’t mean he was…he was…

“You’re on,” the stage manager whispered.

I stumbled onto the stage. The lights were so bright. The theater packed. Reed gave me a quick, crooked smile, and I knew.

My crush on Karl was less complicated than I thought, because it wasn’t
Karl
I’d been with that day in the garden.

Now, my crush on Reed…?

That
was scandal all its own.