Page 69 of Hex and the Kitty

By early afternoon, rows of completed cupcakes cooled on racks. Molly piped decorative swirls of enchanted frosting onto each one, adding a final incantation with every finished cupcake. Tiny embers sparked momentarily in the frosting before subsiding to a gentle glow.

She set aside one special cupcake in a small box, infusing it with a stronger enchantment tailored specifically for Warrick. This one carried not only protection but also her emotions—gratitude for his steadfast presence, admiration for his courage, and yes, the blossoming love she now allowed herself to acknowledge.

The bakery door chimed as Molly finished boxing the last batch. She glanced up, surprised to find Celeste and Ellie entering with determined expressions and suspicious bags.

“We’ve come to help you get ready,” Celeste announced, holding up what appeared to be a cosmetics case.

“The ball doesn’t start for hours,” Molly protested.

“Exactly,” Ellie agreed. “Barely enough time.”

Before Molly could argue further, a knock sounded at the rear entrance. Celeste’s eyes widened with poorly concealed excitement. “That’ll be Luna with the special delivery.”

“What special delivery?” Molly asked, suspicion growing.

Celeste practically skipped to the back door, admitting Luna Nightshade. The elegant apothecary swept in, silver-streaked hair flowing behind her, carrying a long garment bag with reverence.

“Right on time,” Ellie approved. “Let’s head upstairs.”

“Will someone explain what’s happening?” Molly demanded, untying her apron.

Luna’s violet eyes twinkled. “A gift from your fire chief. Shall we?”

Curiosity overrode Molly’s protests as she followed the women up to her apartment. Luna carefully hung the garment bag on Molly’s bedroom door while Ellie arranged hair supplies and cosmetics on the coffee table.

“Open it,” Luna urged gently.

FIFTY-FOUR

With hesitant fingers, Molly unzipped the garment bag. Inside, hung a gown that stole her breath—midnight blue fabric that seemed to capture the night sky itself with delicate silver beadwork creating the illusion of stars across the bodice and cascading down the skirt.

“I don’t understand,” Molly whispered, touching the fabric with reverent fingertips.

“Warrick commissioned it from Avelyn Hartley’s boutique,” Luna explained. “He mentioned seeing you admire it in the window last week during your evening walk.”

The memory surfaced instantly—she and Warrick strolling after closing the bakery, her steps slowing as they passed the boutique window. The dress had captured her imagination, perfect for their starry night theme. She’d sighed, commenting how it reminded her of the night sky over her childhood home, where stars shone without city lights to dim them.

“But I didn’t—“ Molly paused, remembering how she’d talked herself out of entering the shop. With the sabotage tension and uncertainty about the ball itself, she’d convinced herself the purchase would be frivolous.

“He went in the next morning,” Celeste said softly. “Asked Avelyn to hold it for you, then worked with her on alterations.”

“How did he know my size?” Molly asked, fingers trailing over the beadwork.

Celeste grinned. “A little magical assistance from yours truly.”

Molly carefully lifted the dress from its hanger, cradling the fabric against her. Something crackled in the pocket—a small cream-colored note. She extracted it, recognizing Warrick’s strong, precise handwriting:

For the witch whose eyes mirror the stars when she speaks of magic. —Yours, B

The simple words blurred as tears welled in Molly’s eyes. In all her past relationships, no one had ever listened so attentively, remembered her passing comments, or translated them into such thoughtful action.

“He noticed,” she whispered, more to herself than the others.

Luna squeezed her shoulder gently. “Men like Warrick Shaw don’t miss details about the women they care for. Now, I’ll leave you in these capable hands. See you at the ball.”

After Luna departed, Molly sat on her bed, still holding the dress, absorbing the significance of the gesture. Beyond its beauty, the gift represented something profound—Warrick truly saw her, not just her outward appearance or magical ability, but the person beneath.

“Earth to Molly,” Ellie waved a hand before her face. “We have a schedule to keep. Shower first, then hair, then makeup.”

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