Once Upon Stilettos
“Mom!” I protested, but it didn’t do any good. She was on a roll.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to wear a little more makeup so you don’t look so bland. Maybe you should wear more lipstick, or a darker shade. I brought a few samples with me that might look good on you.”
By that time of day, I was lucky if I had any lipstick on at all other than on my teeth. “Mom, New York women don’t wear that much makeup,” I said.
“It’s true,” Gemma agreed. “The natural look is the goal.”
My mom, who never left the house without doing her face in the full Mary Kay lineup, looked horrified. “Really? Well, then, Katie, who knew? You’ve always been in style.”
“Of course she does. But it wouldn’t hurt her to liven up her look. We don’t want our little country mouse to fade into the background in the big city.”
“Mom, I have a boyfriend. I think I’m doing okay,” I said, trying not to cringe visibly. I felt mousy enough most of the time without any help. Then I realized how easily I’d let the word “boyfriend” roll off my tongue and hoped I wasn’t overselling the relationship.
“My boss gave me Wednesday off, so I’m all yours then,” I said. “Then Thursday and Friday are holidays, and we’ll have the weekend.” With any luck, I wouldn’t have killed anyone or died of embarrassment by Sunday night.
I held my breath and willed him not to recognize me, to keep walking right out of the restaurant, but no such luck. With a smile that could only be described as evil, he came straight to our table, put a hand on the back of my chair, and leaned over me. “Well, now, if it isn’t Katie Chandler,” he said. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your boyfriend nearby.”
I should have come up with a witty remark while I watched him approaching us, but I was drawing a complete blank. All my snappy comebacks to him involved referring to magic, which left me with nothing to say in front of my friends and family.
And he knew it, I could tell. He smirked and said, “Boy, does he know how to show a girl a good time, walking her to and from work every day. I always knew he was dull, but I had no idea it was that bad.” He patted me on top of my head. “Let me know if you ever want to try something a little more interesting. I did set you up with some friends of mine at that party on Friday.”
Every head at my table swiveled to look at me. “Sorry, they weren’t my type,” I said. “But you know what they say about birds of a feather.”
I shivered at the memory of the harpy tearing into Owen’s shoulder and at the thought of the other one that had attacked us on the street last week. I dared a glance at my family and friends and saw that they looked utterly baffled. So far, he hadn’t said anything that was outright about magic, but he’d said enough strange stuff that I was sure I was going to have to come up with an explanation.
“Well, considering the other options, I can hardly blame them,” I managed to quip. When he didn’t respond, I turned to look at him. He was staring at Gemma.
“Well, aren’t you pretty?” he said, his eyeballs practically popping out of their sockets. “Are you a model?” She got that a lot, considering she was tall, thin, elegant, and worked in fashion. Still, I wondered what it said about me that even my mortal enemy couldn’t stay focused on me for long. Maybe I did need brighter lipstick. Or a brighter personality.