§ § § - August 23, 2008

The little recording studio in town, located in a small, unprepossessing storefront between the theater and the jewelry shop, saw more use than Michiko had realized, as she discovered when Leslie took her over there and checked its schedule for the weekend. "Okay, you're fine till three this afternoon," she mused, scanning a page. "Then we've got a rock band coming in to record a track for their latest album. I don't think it's going to take you that long to assess these folks, though." She looked up at her friend with a grin, and Michiko chuckled.

"I doubt it," she said. "Actually, I'm surprised. I didn't know this studio got so much business."

"Yeah, it gets its share," Leslie said. "At least, it pays for itself." She shrugged and put down the book on the empty receptionist's desk. "The place'll be bustling by two though, since the staff has to come back and get things ready for that recording session. Meantime, Diana Lind should be in any minute, so just relax and take your time, and give me a call when you're ready and I'll come pick you up."

"Why, where're you going?" Michiko asked.

"I'll hang out at Christian's office," Leslie said with a wink that made her friend roll her eyes playfully. "Have fun, and see you later on."

Leaving Michiko behind, she headed for Christian's storefront; she could see him at his desk inside, peering intently into a computer tower, and grinned as she came in and settled into the chair beside the work arm of his desk. "Working hard?"

Christian looked up, grunted and shook his head. "The person who brought this thing in said there was a bug in it - a literal bug. I don't know whether to take this apart in the middle of the town square and try to let it out that way, or just remove this thing's guts and coat it with insecticide."

Leslie giggled. "Did they say what kind of bug?"

"Of course not. I suspect it's large, though, because the owner stayed barely long enough to explain the problem and then fled as though the place were on fire. Tell me, my Rose, is your father in? I need to ask him some questions about the creepier fauna on this island."

Laughing, Leslie nodded and settled back as Christian reached for the phone and dialed the main house. Julianne was out, but Jonathan was there, flinging frequent looks in the direction of Christian's desk. Catching Leslie watching him, he sat up. "Hey, Miss Leslie, I know this is kinda silly-sounding, but my sister was just in here about ten minutes ago, asking Boss Prince there how busy you were today. I thought you'd be in the middle of fantasy-granting."

"I've done all I can do for the moment," Leslie said. "It's in other hands right now. Where'd Camille go after she left?"

"Said she had some groceries to get. You'll probably catch her over there."

Leslie nodded, got Christian's attention and mimed a farewell, and waited for his nod and quick smile before striking off across the square. After checking a few aisles, she caught Camille trying to lift a twenty-pound sack of dog food off a shelf, and sprinted forward to lend some assistance. "Thanks, Leslie," Camille grunted as they let it fall into her shopping cart. "I know that's a lot for one dog, but Harriet eats like a hippo, and anyway, this size was on sale."

Leslie laughed. "Jonathan passed on the word that you were looking for me."

"Yeah, I was just wondering if you knew what's going on with Tabitha." Camille pushed her cart off toward the next aisle, and Leslie kept pace. "I found a stray kitten a couple of days ago, cowering under a bush in our front yard, and I thought I'd call Tabitha and see if she could help me figure out what to do with it so it'd be safe. But I got Fernando and he said she wasn't available. I thought that meant she was busy, so I said I'd call back, and that's when he told me she'd decided to cut herself off from all the rest of us."

Leslie stopped dead in the aisle. "What on earth...? And he approved of it?"

"No, he sounded disgusted, actually. Matter of fact, he made a point of telling me he thought it was dumb, but he didn't feel at liberty to talk about whatever her problem is, either. So I've been calling around and seeing who else is getting the same cold shoulder, and so far Myeko and Lauren said they have. Can't get hold of anybody else though."

Leslie shrugged. "I haven't heard from Tabitha since the night of that so-called party at their house, and to be honest, I hadn't thought about it that much since we don't see each other all the time anyway. It's hard to believe Tabitha's doing this. She's usually so easygoing." She thought for a moment, pacing alongside Camille. "Michiko's helping with the fantasies this weekend. When I get a chance, I'll ask her."

"Well, while you're at it, you could ask her why she didn't come to the party," said Camille. "I thought for sure she was too polite to be a no-show, especially considering all that royal protocol she must've had to absorb while she was queen of Arcolos." She paused a moment, thinking over her words. "Y'know...if it was so bad she didn't come to the party, maybe the two of them had some kind of falling-out."

"Michiko and Tabitha? They've known each other since high school," Leslie said. "That'd be hard to believe. But then again..." She shrugged. "Can't hurt to ask. I'm at loose ends for the moment. Maybe I'll take a run past Fernando and Tabitha's place and see if I can corner her on her own turf. She'd almost have to talk to me then...though of course she could always toss me out on my butt."

Camille laughed and nodded. "Yeah, there's that. Well, Captain Intrepid, go for it, and if you survive, let us know what the story is."

But before Leslie could act on her intentions, she got a call from Roarke asking her to handle a small emergency at the pool, and she ended up spending the rest of her morning there. When lunchtime rolled around, she found Michiko already there with Roarke; as soon as she sat down, Christian appeared and took his own seat, while Noelle Tokita - the children's babysitter this weekend - brought the triplets down to eat with their parents and grandfather, waving hello at the adults and heading for home to have her own lunch. By then, Leslie had forgotten all about Tabitha; Michiko's presence meant there was fantasy business to discuss, and she was eager to hear the latest.

"So what's the word?" she asked once everyone had been served and was eating.

Michiko swallowed a bite and reached for her napkin. "Well, Diana Lind is actually a pretty decent singer. She can carry a tune and she knows how to use vibrato, and once she gets started she comes across as not half bad. If she really wants to impress her classmates, though, she'll have to get past the karaoke stage. She needs the self-confidence to sing in public, and I think that's your department, Mr. Roarke."

Roarke chuckled. "What of the others?"

"Major Patterson isn't bad either, but he has to get rid of the exaggerated southern twang he sings with. I mean, he comes across as a caricature. But other than that, he could probably carry off the country-idol fantasy for a weekend." She cleared her throat and closed her eyes. "But as for Georgiana Willingham, I think it's going to take some serious work to make her fantasy come alive. When she said she'd never sung a note in her life, I realized there was a very good reason for it. She's absolutely hideous."

"Was she aware that she was hideous?" Leslie asked, grinning, catching Christian snickering silently and shaking his head to himself.

"That's the kicker - she sure was. Unfortunately, she thinks that's how she's supposed to sound in order to be a bad-ass rock chick. I suggested she listen to Pat Benatar or Joan Jett, but she said she was looking to be something more like those old 80s hair-metal bands, like Cinderella or Poison or Mötley Crüe." She eyed Leslie, who blinked in disbelief. "Remember them? You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do, but...they were all guys! And even they sang in tune...at least some of the time," Leslie said with an amused shrug, which made them all laugh.

"My nephews were into some of that music," said Christian slowly. "More so Rudolf and Roald than Gerhard, but I can recall hearing records in that genre coming from their rooms. But it occurs to me that it sounds as if your Miss Willingham is looking to push the envelope. If you think back," he said, addressing their questioning looks, "heavy metal was the provenance of males. Long hair and occasional makeup notwithstanding, you almost never saw a female heavy-metal band - and when you did, the women sang in tune. The men were allowed to literally scream the lyrics much of the time, but the women weren't." He caught Roarke's approving smile. "You see what I'm getting at, of course..."

Roarke nodded. "It's your opinion that Miss Willingham's idea of being a rock chick is to have the freedom to scream out of tune, just as the men did."

"Exactly so," Christian said, nodding and turning his attention to his wife and Michiko, who were staring at each other with discovery. "You both see it now, don't you? Perhaps that ear-exploding voice you claim Miss Willingham possesses will work to her advantage, for the purposes of her fantasy."

Michiko giggled. "It's so insane, that's the only explanation there could possibly be. Funny how you came up with it and not Leslie or even Mr. Roarke, though."

Christian shrugged and said, "Well, I suspect Mr. Roarke knew long before any of us did, and was simply waiting for us to figure it out, or something like it. In any case, it's just my opinion, but if you ask Miss Willingham I have a feeling she'll corroborate it."

Leslie eyed Roarke. "Is he right, Father?"

Roarke chuckled. "As a matter of fact, he is. However, I have a very good reason for allowing you to ruminate over this fantasy on your own, and so many others in the recent past. I have been doing a great deal of research into a..." He paused, frowning slightly to himself, before continuing, sounding as if he were choosing his words carefully. "...a personal matter. It will require me to take something of a leave of absence, which means that you, Leslie, will be granting fantasies essentially on your own for a few weeks." He caught her alarmed look. "Have no fear, child, I've already planned the schedule you will be following during the time I must be absent; and for those few fantasies that require properties you are unable to handle, I will see to it that you have the materials you need to carry them out."

"Oh my word," mumbled Leslie, blinking. "Well then, do I get an assistant?"

Roarke looked amused. "You may certainly take on an assistant if you like - as many as you wish. I have faith in you, my daughter. You've worked for me for eighteen years and have done exceedingly well in the position. And plainly, you'll have no shortage of willing volunteers for the assistant's chair." He grinned at a wide-eyed Michiko.

"We can help too, Mommy," Karina spoke up eagerly. Susanna and Tobias nodded, both looking excited.

"Yeah, it'll be fun to do some of Gran'father's stuff!" Tobias seconded.

"Can we, Mommy, please?" Susanna begged.

Michiko grinned. "Well, there're your volunteers, Leslie." Everyone laughed. "I hope it's nothing serious, Mr. Roarke, whatever you have to look into."

"I can tell you that it has something to do with amakarna," Roarke said, glancing at Christian, whom he knew to be sensitive to that particular subject. Christian focused his attention a little more sharply, his expression chilling. "But it may be good news. After my late cousin's breakthrough with a cure for the bone-eating disease, a great deal more research has been done into the spice and its properties, and some discoveries have been made. Further, there has been discussion about the trade in black lightning, and we may be able to do something about that as well, perhaps once and for all. Rogan will be coming with me, Leslie, so that he can lend his own expertise with the spice."

"Well, then, I hope it all works out," Leslie said, though there was still a fluttery feeling in her gut about the prospect of being "the boss" for a few weekends.

As if Roarke sensed a double meaning in her words, he smiled reassuringly at her. "It will, Leslie. Have no fear, I know you'll do just fine. With your children eager to run errands, and Christian to provide his own brand of insight, and whomever you choose as your temporary assistant, you should have little, if any, trouble carrying it off. I expect to be gone for perhaps a month."

"Gone where?" Leslie wanted to know. "It's been established for a long time that you can't leave the island." Too well did she remember the weekend Roarke's one-time girlfriend, renowned (and now deceased) dancer Julie Mars, had come to the island begging him not only to let her dance again, but for them to be together; the revelations she'd learned that weekend still resonated with her all these years later.

Roarke only smiled and replied with one of his maddening non-answers. "I will be meeting with others who will provide adequate accommodation," he said. "I'll let you know more as the time draws closer. Now, Michiko, back to the business at hand: what more do you know in regard to our three would-be singers?"

"Is there such a thing as a self-confidence potion?" Michiko asked. "Something tells me Diana Lind's gonna need one. As much as she wants to impress her classmates, she doesn't quite have what it takes to get up in front of them all and sing."

Roarke chuckled. "Self-confidence must be acquired in more subtle ways than simply taking a potion," he said. "I will speak with Ms. Lind myself and determine the best way to help her. It seems that Ms. Willingham is most in need of help, however. Leslie, when you finish, please go in and give the lady a call, and ask her to come here to the house at exactly one-thirty. I suspected there would be need for some extra assistance in that fantasy, so I will see to it that it's taken care of. Michiko, you might like to work with Ms. Lind and Major Patterson; I have concerts scheduled at the amusement-park stage all weekend, and Major Patterson is to fill in three such slots: this evening, tomorrow afternoon and tomorrow evening."

Michiko glanced at Leslie, cleared her throat and smiled gamely. "Well, I'll give it my best shot," she said. "I don't know how well I'll do with Major Patterson especially. Country isn't my forte."

"All you have to do is teach him to sing less like a hillbilly and more like a modern country star," Leslie said. "Julie likes country music. You could ask to borrow some CDs from her so you can demonstrate to Major Patterson what he should sound like to make his fantasy the success he wants it to be."

Michiko laughed. "And what about Diana?"

Roarke smiled. "As I said, self-confidence cannot be conveyed through artificial means. I suggest you work extensively with her and give her some pointers. The rest must come from her. If you have trouble making her understand this, simply refer her to me."

Michiko nodded. "Okay, Mr. Roarke, I'll do whatever I can."

After lunch, when Michiko had gone to Major Patterson's bungalow to work with him, Leslie put through a call to Georgiana Willingham's bungalow, made the request for her to come to the main house, and caught Christian before he could leave for his office. "I think I might ask you to sit in on the, um...auditions," she said low. "For my assistant, I mean."

Christian laughed. "You'll have a line of applicants stretching from here to the Ring Road for that job."

"I was kind of thinking maybe you could..." Leslie began, tentatively, letting the sentence die unfinished when his amusement increased.

"I'm afraid you won't see me standing in that line, my Rose. I already have a job. On the other hand, if you want me to provide that insightful analysis Mr. Roarke seems to think is so impressive, then by all means I'll be happy to do that. Something tells me, though, that all your friends will be submitting their bids for the position." He chuckled at her expression. "Stop worrying so much! You truly have a knack for overanticipating everything. If Mr. Roarke has faith in you, then what's there to worry about?"

"Maybe I'm just a perfectionist," Leslie admitted with a heavy sigh. "I take it as a personal affront if something goes wrong, even something minor. And anyway, Father pulls it off with such ease and aplomb, and he makes it look easy and effortless, and perfect every single time. Even when he gets complaints, he manages to turn them to his advantage. I've never seen a guest of his leave unhappy."

"Well, don't forget, Mr. Roarke's had this job for well over a century, so he's had quite a bit of practice at making it look smooth and easy. But your eighteen years isn't exactly beginner territory either, you know. You should consider that you're capable of more than you think you are. And it's not as if you don't have help." Christian chuckled, glancing at the triplets, who had taken up a frenzied game of tag in the side yard while they waited for Noelle to return from lunch. "You even have three little go-fers over there - the same position you filled when you first arrived here all those years back. Look at it as an adventure. Mr. Roarke did tell you that you could take on as many assistants as you like, so perhaps you can make two or even three other people extremely proud and happy to help you out." He winked and tilted her head back to kiss her. "I love you, my Leslie Rose. I really should get back to work. I have a tropical stink beetle to clear out of a tower - all I need is a special formula your father promised to provide for me."

Leslie caught her breath. "Are you serious? A tropical stink beetle? I thought those things were only island legend! Mariki told me such a horror story one year about them that I managed to win a contest at one of Myeko's famous Halloween parties back in high school - for most terrifying ghost story."

Christian grinned. "I haven't seen the thing yet, but I did have to run out for about half an hour to handle a computer glitch at the island bank, and when I got back Jonathan looked as if he'd just awakened from an especially nasty nightmare. He claimed to have seen the thing infesting that computer - that it came out, wandered around the work arm of my desk, and then crawled back in. He described it in great detail, so I was able to call Mr. Roarke back shortly before lunch and let him know exactly what I was dealing with."

"Be careful," Leslie said, staring at him. "Mariki said those things are six inches long and two inches wide, and they throw off a smell that makes a skunk come across as Chanel No. 5."

Christian's levity faded a good bit and he eyed her dubiously, just as Roarke emerged from inside, carrying a small spray bottle nearly full of a translucent brown liquid. "Here's what you need, Christian," he said, handing him the bottle. "I would suggest that before you begin, you call the local exterminator and insist that they send two employees to your office. They will know what to do with your intruder. This spray is meant only to tranquilize it so that they can capture it and properly dispose of it." He smiled, as if unaware of Christian's newly aghast expression. "Good luck, and please let us know what happens, will you? Leslie, come with me; I have a few chores for you to carry out." Without waiting for a response from either of them, he took Leslie's arm and led her back to the door, leaving Christian standing on the veranda looking distinctly spooked.