Page 35 of If The Shoe Fits

“Of course we can. We just need a little help,” she says, whipping out a card I recognize as belonging to the town’s Witch Trifecta.

Calling the mayor and her besties is more than a little nerve-wracking, but if it will pay for the supplies for the school dance, I am down to try.

Besides, I have a feeling it might solve one or two little mysteries I’ve been working on.

chapter fourteen

The night of the Harvest Moon Ball is finally here, and the energy in the air is downright electric.

Students are bustling around in their formal wear, laughter and chatter echoing down the halls as they make their way to the ballroom.

And me? I don’t know how many days it’s been since Wulfy and Idid what we didin his office. I’ve officially lost track.

There’s been no contact since. Not a one.

He’s been every bit the perfect gentleman.

Respectful. Professional. Completely distant.

And yeah, I’m feeling salty about it.

I shouldn’t be, right?

I mean, this is technically what I asked for.

But every time I catch a whiff of snickerdoodle cookies or hear that deep rumble of his voice echoing down the corridor, I feel a pang of, well,something.

Longing?

Frustration?

Pure, unadulterated horniness?

All of the above,probably.

But hey, at least I had this wholeglass slipper theory turned party gameto keep me busy.

If there’s one thing I can say for myself, it’s that I know how to throw myself into a distraction.

Speaking of distractions, I am really decked out tonight.

My gown—my absolute favorite black gown—is made of sparkling black velvet that hugs my curves like it was tailored by some kind of magical fairy godmother.

The hemline floats just above the floor, just enough to showcase my strappy heels, and the fabric is ruched in all the right places, creating a flattering silhouette that even I have to admit looks damn good.

The halter top does wonders for the girls, making them look perky AF (thank you, magical tailoring), and the side slit adds just enough smexy to keep things interesting.

The dress is sophisticated, elegant, and just a little bit daring—all the things I wish I felt tonight.

Instead, I’m a bundle of nerves, biting my lip as I take one last look in the mirror.

Which is ridiculous, really.

This sure as heck isn’t my first school dance. I’ve chaperoned more than I can count over the years.

But something about tonight feels different.

The ballroom looks incredible. The new decorations Aggie and I ordered from Congo, after getting them begrudgingly approved by the Academy’s oversight committee, are everything we hoped they’d be.

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