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talk her into letting me use a shower in one of the rooms where the guest has checked out. I shower and wash my hair with their shampoo. Ryan’s shirt hangs on me in places, and I wish I had cologne or, at least, clean underwear. Still, I look good.
    I know it’s crazy, getting all worked up about a princess. But, hey, a guy can fantasize. I mean, here I am in South Beach, fun capital of the world, and all I do is repair shoes and dream dreams I can’t afford. Why shouldn’t I at least try?

Chapter 6
    It takes nearly five minutes for the elevator to reach the penthouse floor. I knock and hang around like a stalker until another Mount Everest of a guard asks what I’m doing there.
    “I was . . . I work at the hotel. I’m bringing the princess’s shoe.” I hold it up.
    “I take zis!” The guard plucks it by the strap and starts to close the door.
    “But I . . . she . . .” I slump over. She’s probably still asleep. Can it really end here, my one big chance?
    His hand’s on the doorknob. “You have been paid?”
    I nod. “But—”
    “Zen go on your way.” And the door slams.
    That’s that. I head back for the elevator. It was stupid, me thinking I could talk to the princess about anything but her broken strap. I mean, who am I? Some poor slob who works in a hotel. I should be happy I got to meet her at all. Someday, I’ll probably tell my grandchildren about it. And they’ll assume it’s dementia setting in.
    But still, I feel like going downstairs and banging something with a hammer until it’s obliterated. Victoriana said she wanted me to deliver the shoe personally. I went to a lot of trouble. It’s not right that the guard is keeping me out. He’s not any special person. He’s only a guard, just like I’m only a shoe repair guy. He’s no better than—
    “Pardonnez-moi?” Mr. Everest is back.
    “What do you want now?”
    “It is ze princess who wants. She says I must ask you to come into her suite.”
    “So she did want me to deliver the shoes in person?”
    “Oui.”
    “So I was right? I wasn’t just lying to get to see the princess?”
    “Yes, yes. Is zat not what I just say?”
    I’m savoring this. “So I was right, and you were . . . what’s the word I’m trying to think of here . . . ?”
    The guard’s face is purplish. “Leesen, you leetle pip-squeak. If you do not wish to see ze princess, I will be happy to tell her you left ze building.”
    “Okay.” I follow him into the suite.
    I’ve never been in the Royal Suite before, but it’s bigger than our apartment. Flowers decorate every flat surface, so it looks a little like a funeral, without the body. There’s even an aquarium with a small shark swimming between the anemones. The guard leads me through one room, then another, until finally, we reach a sitting room, decorated in blue and white to blend with the cloudless sky outside its glittering French doors. The princess sits in a big wicker chair. She’s dressed all in white, golden hair flowing down her shoulders, wearing the shoes I’ve repaired. I notice, with satisfaction, that the left shoe is a bit shinier than the right.
    She doesn’t look hung over. She doesn’t look like she only got four hours sleep. She looks like a marble statue of an ocean goddess. If I ran into her at Walmart, I’d still know she was a princess. I stop, then bow low.
    “Please.” She gestures me up. “Please, zis is not needed.”
    I stand. She says something in French to the guard. He shakes his head but leaves, muttering something and glaring at me. The door closes, slightly louder than necessary.
    I am alone with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Please, God, please, don’t let me say anything stupid.
    “’Allo, Johnny.”
    I start at my name, that she remembers it.
    “Did I get it wrong? You are Johnny, non ? Ze boy who watches me?”
    “I don’t . . .”
    “It is nothing to be ashamed. Everyone watches. But I have to sneak to watch