Princess for Hire (18 page)

Karl was kind of growing on me.

“So,” I said.

“So,” Karl sighed and plopped down on the grass next to the swing.

“So we might as well talk about Olivia,” I said.

“Yeah? What about her?”

“You tell me. I’m not the one who’s dating her.”

An uncomfortable silence followed.

“Look, Elsa, there’s really something you should know about that—” Karl’s phone rang. Olivia’s name flashed on the screen. “She’ll just keep calling if I don’t answer. Can you wait just a minute? I’ll be right back.”

He walked down the hill, back to the gardens, leaving footprints in the overgrown clover. I watched him and felt a pang of guilt.

This wasn’t some Hollywood movie where things ended up happily ever after and the credits rolled. I was making choices—big choices—that would impact Elsa, Karl, Olivia, and who knew how many others. This was their reality. What if I was messing this all up?

Suddenly I wondered what Meredith would say. Already I could imagine our reunion. Not quite baskets of sunshine after all this. Unless…Really, I just needed time to think.

I stole one last look at Karl, then did the only thing I could. A little maneuver I like to call the Amazon Dash: I took off running into the house. The driver didn’t say a thing when he saw me, just walked out and started the limo.

I wasn’t even tempted to turn on the flat screen when I got inside the car. The movie of my life was providing enough drama to make an epic.

Chapter
20

N
ana Helga was outside pulling weeds when we drove up to the house. The driver, Dieter, I’d learned, started to open his door to let me out, but I cleared my throat. “Hey, Dieter? I got it. Thanks.”

Nana Helga eyed me stoically from underneath an orange sun hat.

Okay, so maybe Dieter should’ve dropped me off down the hill.

“You have a good time at brunch?” she asked, bending her head back down. Her lips puckered as she worked, perspiration creating a makeup line on her forehead. The humidity and distant gray clouds promised rain soon.

I kneeled down beside her. “It was okay. We just walked around the gardens and caught up.”

Nana Helga wiped her hands on her pants. “Come inside. There’s something I want you to see.”

She marched right in, not even bothering to stomp the dirt off her work shoes. Groceries poured off the counter. She rifled through a bag and slapped a magazine down in front of me. Duchess Olivia was on the cover.

“Thought you’d find this interesting.”

I didn’t pick it up. “I already know about that.”

She tore through the pages until she found a picture of Karl and Olivia stepping out of a limo. She jabbed her finger at it. “Then why are you still chasing after him? His type thinks they’re better than us. He’ll just break your heart.”

I pushed the magazine aside. “Have you ever thought I might break
his
heart? You can deny it all you want, but I
am
his type, Nana. I mean, I’m royal too, and we grew up together. Karl doesn’t sell me short, so why do you?”

“You will not talk to me like that.”

“Why not? I’m not asking for the world. Seriously, you won’t even let me go to that polo match! Or hang out with the guy I’ve liked forever? Why?”

“You are just like your mother—”

“Well, good! Better that than pretending I’m penniless and angry all the time and scared to accept who I am—”

Nana Helga grabbed the magazine and shoved it into my chest. She walked outside, kicked a shovel, and cursed. I followed her, but she held up her hand.

“You’ve said plenty,
schatz
. I’m going on a mad walk now. Nothing like the smell of forget-me-nots to clear my head. You should do some cooling too.”

I watched her walk away. Well, that was just fantastic. Not only had I failed at convincing Karl that Elsa was the girl for him, I also hadn’t made any progress with Nana Helga. This dual campaign was blowing up in my face.

I sat down and thumbed through the magazine, stopping on Olivia’s interview.

DUCHES OLIVIA LETS GO by Brett Morgan

When Duchess Olivia walks into a room, everyone notices. And it’s not the royal title that’s getting the attention. Her long black hair bounces with each step. She’s dressed for success in a brown herringbone pencil skirt and sheer blouse. As she sits down at our corner table at a trendy outdoor bistro and peels off her glasses, her emerald eyes look wise beyond her sixteen years. “Let’s talk about me,” she says. And so we do.

Duchess Olivia, first let me say what an honor it is that you would grant this interview. You’re a major buzz girl, and here we are.

Yes. Here we are.

You’re usually not too open with the press.

Well, can you blame me? I’ve been burned before, like that coverage when I wore fur. Horrible. It was one coat. Two, if you count that benefit in London, but it was Grammy’s coat. I wore it out of love for her.

The rumors are swirling about your supposed relationship with Prince Karl of Fenmar. Care to set things straight?

Ah, you must mean those yacht pictures. The girl in the bathing suit was Photoshopped and so not me. She was, like, over

twenty and had
cellulite
!

But as far as Karl and I being together, yes! We are dating. We’re still in that giddy new-relationship phase. He’s so shy and tongue-tied around me, it’s adorable.

His Highness works tirelessly for many nonprofit organizations. Have you joined in his efforts, or are you exploring other charities?

I haven’t found the time yet to start my own. Now that I’ve taken some time away from academy, I’m focusing on my riding, and I’m splitting my time between New York, Paris, and Dubai, and…it’s exhausting, really.

But I think Karl is precious when he goes on about
AFRICA IS HUNGRY
. My mom and I are planning an A-list gala to raise awareness for the cause. It’s going to be phenomenal.

A-list. So Elsa would not be getting an invite to that, and like it would matter since she couldn’t even go to a polo match. The interview went on, but I’d read enough. I stared at Karl in the picture. He wasn’t looking at the camera—more past it. What are you thinking, Karl? She’s more into herself than she is you.

It was tragic, really, that a nice guy like Karl would date Olivia. It was just like Hayden and Celeste. Well, maybe not
just
like. Karl was royalty, after all, and therefore naturally had better manners. And Hayden was, um,
Hayden
.

Which actually got me thinking: when I got back to Sproutville, whenever that might be, I’d still be in that dunk tank. If I stayed under the water, would Hayden do what Karl surely would—jump in and save me? I couldn’t have wasted all those years adoring someone who would try to dunk a girl and leave her to drown.

Right? Because if so, maybe I was the one selling myself short.

I snuggled into a pillow and stared up at the ceiling, brainstorming all the ways to get Karl to change his mind. I was on solution seventeen: create a new reality show—
Royalty Island
. They’d have an elimination battle, and Elsa’s mountain-girl biceps would dominate. Ooh! And Olivia without makeup probably wasn’t pretty, and I bet the wild animals would instinctively go after her first.

I fell asleep with my finger still between the magazine pages.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

A rapid, urgent knocking woke me up. Elsa’s dress rustled as I rolled off the couch and opened the front door. Karl stood shivering under the leaking front awning, his face barely visible in the dim porch light. The clouds, so distant earlier today, had roared in, assailing the house with rain.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Late.” His teeth chattered. “Can I come in?”

“Oh…sure. I’ll make a fire. Take my blanket.”

Karl waited on the welcome mat while I got the fire going. When it was good and roaring, he sat down on the red brick, his gaze fixed on the flames. “So, why did you leave this afternoon?”

“You had to call your girlfriend.” I sat down on the coffee table across from him and smoothed my hair. “I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You couldn’t do that—I wish you had let me know you were leaving. I was worried you were mad.”

“I wasn’t mad. I’m just a little confused.”

“You’re wearing your locket,” Karl said in wonder.

I straightened the chain. “I’ve had it on all day.”

“You have? Yes, yes of course you have.” He had a faraway look in his eyes. “I remember when I gave that to you. Do you recall what I said?”

“Remind me.”

“I said to keep it empty because that’s how I felt when you weren’t around. Silly sentiment, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t think so,” I said softly.

Karl reached out to touch the locket, but just as his fingers brushed the engravings, he drew back. I seriously wanted to rip it off and throw it at him for being so stupid. Elsa is right here! Don’t make this a
Roman Holiday
ending where they love each other and walk away from it.

You two can have the fairy tale. Just take it.

Rain battered the windowpane, the water cutting into the black night.

“Karl, what have you been trying to tell me? That we’re over? If that’s it, just say it.”

“Over? Elsa, I could never be
over
with you. Trust me, I’ve tried and—”

Lightning flashed in the room, immediately followed by fierce thunder that shook the floor, shook the walls. I jumped.

Karl leaned over and grabbed my hand. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Wow. This weather.” Our entwined fingers consumed my attention. “It’s crazy.”

The roof hummed with the torrent of rain. We did-n’t speak. If it thundered again, would Karl grab my other hand too?

“Anyway…look.” Karl dropped my hand and began pacing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But Olivia is—”

“Olivia is a legit royal. And I’m not, right? Oh, and she wears fur.” I picked up the magazine and waved it. “There is no way this girl is for real. Seriously, Karl?”

He buried his face in his hands. “I’ve been so mixed up since I ran into you. I forgot about how it is to be around you. I’d convinced myself we were just kids before.…You have no idea how difficult this is. Like talking to, I don’t know, your Nana. I mean, what I’m trying to—”

“Nana Helga.” I sat up. “Karl, where is she?”

He paused. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.”

“Oh no. She went on a mad walk before I fell asleep. She’s out in this rain. Her heart. What if she slipped or—”

“I’ll find her.”

I snatched a pair of boots and a rain jacket from the closet. “No. She’s my nana. We’ll find her together.”

Chapter
21

I
shielded my eyes. I had to find Nana Helga. The rain no longer fell in drops, but in a massive sheet of water, an endless, pounding wave.

Karl ran out to the backyard, calling Nana Helga’s name. I struggled to keep up in my too-large boots. The only answer we had was the howling wind.

“No!” I screamed. “Something has to be wrong. She’s been out for hours.”

“Everything will be fine.” Karl set his jaw in determination. “You stay here in case she returns. I’m going to find her.”

“No! Don’t you understand?
I
have to save her. This is my fault! She left because of me. I’m supposed to be making a difference. A good difference.”

Karl stared at me like I was crazy, then shook his head. “You aren’t very easy to say no to.”

“Then don’t try it again.”

We held each other up as we slumped through the mud, yelling her name until we both grew hoarse. Karl started to head down the hill toward the dim lights of the village when I remembered what Nana Helga had said before she left. “Forget-me-nots. Karl, Nana said they helped her calm down. There are flowers in the meadow.”

We tripped up the path until we reached the meadow. Karl stopped me at the fence. “Wait here. That way, if I’m not back in a few minutes, you can go to the village for help.”

I sank down into the mud and hugged my knees to my chest. Meredith was right. Blown-up bubbles weren’t drama. This was. Totally created by me because I’d pushed so hard. If I hadn’t yelled at Nana, if I hadn’t taken a nap, if I hadn’t gotten so wrapped up in the Karl saga, Nana Helga wouldn’t be out there, in danger.

A few torturous minutes later, Karl stumbled up to the fence, Nana Helga’s arm wrapped around his shoulder, a large gash on her forehead. She hit him relentlessly with her free arm.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I saw them. She was conscious, at least.

“I’m fine!” she said. “Seriously, I’m not some damsel in distress, here. Let me go.”

Karl took the beating. We guided her through the grass and up the porch steps.

“What happened?” I asked, once Nana was safely inside.

She wiped some blood from her brow. “I got a little lost in the rain. And then fell down and got a small scrape. No big deal. This boy of yours flew in like he was Prince Charming—”

“You were lying facedown, almost unconscious in the meadow,” he said.

“Just napping.”

“Did you take your medication, Nana?” I asked.

She averted her eyes. “You going to scold me too? For the love, two children trying to take care of me.”