HOTEL LINDO
ROOFTOP LOUNGE

Saturday, June 13
5:02 P.M.

PERDIDO

Una cadena muy caro.

Por favor, regresar cadena a °i! ante que llame a la policÌa.

Alicia didn’t completely understand what the handwritten LOST sign in the elevator meant, but she tore it down anyway and crumple-stuffed it in her pink, shell-covered clutch. The words lost, necklace, and police were enough of a tip-off. Nina had obviously stolen ¡i!’s neck-bling when they were in his suite earlier that afternoon, and he was prepared to press charges. Turning her in was something to consider. Maybe then she’d finally stop stealing. But Alicia couldn’t stand to lose her. Not today. Nina had a plan to take the twins down, and that was a major priority.

They’d promised to meet in the rooftop lounge at 5 p.m. Because, according to Nina, everyone would be there, and she wanted the twins to be embarrassed by as many people as possible. Alicia could hardly wait.

Esmeralda had forbidden the towel girls to attend the weekly PS (post-siesta) party, but the troll had taken the fallen peacock to the vet and wasn’t expected back for at least another hour. There had been just enough time to buy a tacky vinyl bag, trendy open-toe sand-colored boots, and a royal purple shift dress from the Lindo boutique, followed by a quick drive-by of the roof. According to Nina, that was all it would take.

“I see why they call it happy hour,” Alicia said, when she met up with Nina at yet another mirrored conveyor belt. It snaked around the sunny, grass-covered rooftop, offering free tapas to the bikini-buff guests who were elbow-to-elbow, admiring the sea view while secretly admiring each other.

“Year 3000” by the Jonas Brothers had everyone dancing, spilling their drinks, and laughing about it. But no one seemed to be having more fun than the twins. They were bobbing to the beat on G and P’s shoulders while S sprayed them with Pellegrino. The other guests sneaked side-glimpses of them, partly wishing they were having as much fun, but mostly hoping they’d fall.

“Did you see this?” Alicia whispered. She opened her clutch, revealing the crumpled sign.

Nina grinned. “Isn’t it great?” Her hazel eyes widened, revealing gold flecks that matched the maid uniform she still had on. “I made them during my 3:15 bathroom break.”

You made these?” Alicia whisper-shouted.

Nina bit her bottom lip and nodded coyly.

“So you didn’t steal the necklace?” Alicia took a yellow plate of scallop ceviche off the belt in an effort to look less shocked.

“No, I did.”

“What?”

Just then a thin man wearing a green Speedo and a white linen blazer came dangerously close to dance-bashing them into the conveyor belt.

“Lo siento,” he muttered, then shimmied back to a girl in a black Versace one-piece holding an umbrella drink the size of her gold bangle–covered arm.

“Maybe we should get this over with before we break something else.” Alicia stepped aside just to be safe. “What’s your big plan? What do I have to do?”

Mire y aprende, Cousin. Watch. And. Learn.”

Nina began shoving her way through the crowd, and Alicia followed her. It was the opposite of Spalpha to go along with someone else’s revenge plot, but it was hard for her to think like a leader while she was wearing a bile-colored polyester dress with an embroidered mop above the boob. Maybe once the twins were out of the picture she’d be less distracted and would have more time to think of ways to—

“’Ello again.” Nigel appeared before Alicia and shoved a fizzing glass of limeade under her chin. “A limey from a Limey.” He chuckled. “Lovely to see you up and about and not stuck in that dreadful—” He stopped himself. “I mean, it’s good to see you.”

Nina was waiting impatiently behind him, crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out at the back of his blond head. But still, Alicia felt compelled to clear something up.

“I’m nawt poor, you know,” she told his navy blue eyes. He blinked several times, as if his lids were trying to explain the things his lips couldn’t seem to articulate.

“Never said you were.” He tittered nervously.

“I’m rich.” She took the limeade and helped herself to a long, entitled swig. “I’m only doing this towel girl thing because I half-broke the Juan Belmonte statue andsomeotherthings, and my parents are trying to teach me a lesson. Which, by the way, I refuse to learn.”

A light breeze blew Nigel’s unbuttoned denim shirt wide open like he was in some sort of boy-band video, revealing his slightly tanned chest. It was a definite improvement but still a blatant reminder that he was British. And peacock duty be damned, Alicia was determined to find a way to audition tomorrow. And when she did, the last thing she needed was a melatonin-deprived bloke cheering her on from the sidelines, reminding everyone that English was not her second language.

“¡Vamos!” Nina clapped twice like a saucy flamenco dancer.

“I better go.” Alicia tried to squeeze past him.

“Why are you always running away from me?” he shouted just as the song was changing. Everyone turned to see who the desperate guy with the accent was pleading with.

Thankfully, “Low” by Flo Rida began blaring, and everyone turned away, hoping to get an upgrade on their dance partners.

“Gawd, will you puh-lease stop talking English!” she whisper-hissed. “I don’t need everyone knowing I’m Fannish. What if ¡i! can hear you? Then I won’t qualify for the video and—”

“Fannish?” He crinkled his light eyebrows and half-smiled in anticipation.

“Fake Spanish.”

“So that’s what this is all about? A stupid video shoot?”

“¡Va-MOS!” Nina pointed to an invisible watch on her wrist.

“It’s not stupid,” Alicia pouted, suddenly feeling very . . . stupid. “In Westchester everyone’s all American-ish, and here everyone’s all Spain-ish, and I’m not all anything. I’m a mutt.”

“What’s wrong with being both?” Nigel lowered his eyes, like he was asking himself just as much as he was asking her.

Both means I don’t know what box to check when I’m filling out a skin survey at the makeup counter. It means I don’t belong anywhere.”

“Maybe it means you’re lucky enough to belong in two places.”

“Whatevs.” Alicia rolled her moist eyes. This was starting to feel a little too Dr. Phil for a summer afternoon in Spain. “Grassy for the drink, but I have to go.” Even though the Fannish part of her wanted to stay, Nigel couldn’t do anything to further her Spalpha status. And, like a beautiful pair of Jimmy Choo heels that were too high to walk in, she would simply have to settle for something more useful.

Por fah-vor, let’s go!”

Suddenly, Alicia was being wrist-pulled through the crowd and away from Nigel’s sad blue eyes.

The twins were still bobbing when Nina stopped behind them. “Follow my lead.” She brushed by Celia, who had a red Fendi feather clutch swaying from the crook of her elbow.

In one fluid motion, Nina opened her palm and dropped ¡i!’s glittering necklace inside.

“ADM!” Alicia mouthed once they passed.

“Framing is an art intended for more than just pictures, Cousin.”

“Point!” Alicia lifted her finger and smiled.

“Now watch this.” Nina opened Alicia’s shell-covered purse and pulled out the crumpled sign. She made her rounds, showing the photo of the necklace to as many guests as possible. And then she picked her mark.

“Him.” She pointed at a pregnant-looking man with a glass of sangria in each hand and the kind of wobble reserved for those walking on an airplane during turbulence.

“Uno . . . dos . . .” On tres, Nina shoved him straight into Celia and G—or was it P?

“ADM!” Celia called, as she swayed left, then right. She managed to steady herself on Isobel’s narrow shoulders, but her bag crashed to the ground and spilled open.

“Perfecto!” Nina clapped as she and Alicia quickly backed away from the scene of the crime.

Perfecto times ten!” Alicia high-fived her cousin. Delete the whole thieving thing and the blond Dora bob, and her cousin would have definite Spalpha potential.

“Is that ¡i!’s missing necklace?” Nina began whispering in various people’s ears. Finally, a long-haired sleepy-eyed blonde in a black knit cap and a blue and orange tie-dyed bikini pointed at the shimmering clump. She began shouting something in Spanish. Whatever she said was enough to make the music stop. A crowd gathered around the twins.

Alicia and Nina stood on the edge of the commotion and watched with nail-biting enthusiasm.

S bent to receive the necklace before lifting the precious pendant to his full lips and kissing it. Hard. “¡Celia, ya lo he encontrado! ¡Ya lo he encontrado!”

“Yes!” Alicia turned to Nina, ready to rejoice. But her cousin’s bug eyes and slack jaw told her to hold off on celebrating just yet.

“Ya lo ha encontrado,” Nina sighed. “They think she found it!”

The entourage surrounded Celia and enveloped her in a massive relief-hug, like she was a child who’d gone missing at Disney World.

It was difficult to understand what Celia was saying amid the celebratory double-cheek kisses, but it was clear from her proud smile that she was taking full credit for the bling retrieval.

“Looks like someone just scored a spot in the video,” a bitter redhead in a white string bikini and mirrored Diors told her sunburned BFF.

“You’re right about that.” Sunburn squinted at ¡i!’s balcony. His hand was still hanging over the railing, but this time he was making a thumbs-up sign. He must have seen the whole thing.

Alicia sighed. “How did Celia pull that off?”

“I’ve been asking myself that same question for the last thirteen years.” Nina crumpled up her sign and threw it on the ground.

The familiar thunderclap that kicked off ¡i!’s “Rain in Spain” remix distracted everyone from the mini jewelry drama and revved up the party once more. But for Alicia, it was a bitter reminder that the audition was only one day away and she was doomed to watch from the peacock pen.

And then the song’s rain sounds came. Plinkkkk. Pluunck.

The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain!

Plinkkkk. Plinkkkk. Pluunck. Plinkkkk. Pluunck.

At first they song’s chorus reminded her of the terrible night she’d spent hand-fanning the sopping deck. Then came the image of everyone scream-shouting their way to the lobby. And that image sparked an idea, which, if executed properly, could keep the twins from the audition. And earn her a spot in the Spalpha hall of fame.