Maeve on the Red Carpet by Annie Bryant Read Free Book Online Page A

limousine!
    Now the crowd was really going wild. Everyone wasshouting things like, “Who has a pen?” “I don’t know who’s in there, but I want an autograph!” I didn’t say anything myself, but thought how funny it was that people went so nuts over stars and autographs. When I became famous, I’d make sure not to forget how important it was for fans to have their picture taken with
moi
.
    The driver got out first and walked around the back of the limo. He swooped down his arm, opened the door, and out stepped Mr. Von Krupcake wearing his fedora hat. “Ahem,” announced the driver. “It’s my pleasure to introduce the one and only Walter Von Krupcake.”
    “Huh? Who’s Walter Cupcake?” asked a little boy behind me.
    “Don’t you know? He’s the Krupcake King!” answered an all-too-familiar voice. “He helped my dad redo the Movie House for camp.”
    I shook my head. Sooo typical. Sam the Know-It-All strikes again. I decided it was best to stay incognito (that means in disguise … another great word nerd word from the brilliant Charlotte Ramsey!) as long as possible. People would definitely know soon enough that Mr. Know-It-All was my little brother.
    Mr. Von Krupcake whispered something to the driver, whose face instantly turned white. “I’m sorry, sir!” he gasped and dove inside the car. When he emerged, he was carrying something shiny—something red and gold. “Ladies and Gentlemen!” shouted the driver. “Let me present … the Krupcake King!” He stood on his tiptoes and placed something on Mr. Von Krupcake’s head. It was thehuge crown from his commercials. Once the crown was secured, everyone started oohing and ahhing. Sometimes people just needed a little help remembering who was famous, I guess.
    The driver—who’d let the limo door fall shut after waiting so long—jumped at the sound of banging within. Was that knocking and clattering coming from the
limo
? The driver mumbled an apology and threw open the door. A hush fell over the crowd. Everyone’s eyes were glued upon the limo, waiting to see who would be the next star to pop out.
    Instead of a star, the only thing to pop out was a loud
cough-cough
.
    “My apologies again,” said the driver. “And last, but certainly not least. Certainly,
certainly
not least, may I present, the Princess of Pastries herself, Mademoiselle Madeline Von Krupcake.”
    A boot covered in shaggy white fur slipped out of the car, followed by a dainty little hand French manicured to perfection. A girl emerged in silky black pants and a white, puffy, fur-lined jacket, her long blond hair topped with what looked like a real diamond tiara. Even though I loved the crown Ms. Pink gave me … how I envied those twinkling jewels on Maddie’s head! She was the same angelic little girl from the Krupcake commercials, except now she was my age … and very pretty. I could never imagine her going to my school, Abigail Adams Junior High. She oozed a lifestyle of the rich and famous. To top it all off, in her arms was a tiny white dog thatlooked like a cotton ball with an itsy-bitsy head. I was glad that Marty wasn’t here to see it—because he might get jealous. This dog was adorable … really adorable.
    “Wave to our friends, Fitzy,” Madeline cooed into the little pup’s ear as she waved his paw at everyone. Fitzy didn’t seem too happy about it, but I knew Marty would have been thrilled. Marty was a little like me. We were both kind of showoffs.
    Maddie turned to the driver and hissed, “Jeffrey, the Maddiecakes. NOW!”
    “Oh yes. So sorry, Mademoiselle Madeline.”
    What in the world is going on?
I wondered. The limo driver dove again through the door behind Maddie, who tried to cover up the commotion by waving little Fitzy’s hand at the crowd again and saying, “Thank you for being here. You’re all
too
kind.”
    When the driver reemerged he had a four-foot-long sterling silver tray of individually wrapped plastic cakes. “Voilà! Maddiecakes