Page 36 of The Wicked

“Ohmigosh!” The cry came from behind me, and I spun to find a small, very colourful guy who appeared to be wearing most of the store’s products. “Is that Sara’s missing shoe? Where did you find it?”

Sara.I had a name.

“You know the woman who owns this?”

“Well, of course I do. I made it for her. Well, not the actual shoe, that came from Romi, but I added the crystals. Isn’t it spectacular?”

“Indeed it is. Where can I find Sara?”

“Paulo…” Darla warned. “Don’t go giving out people’s personal details.”

“But this is so romantic.” Paulo clutched his hands to his chest. “Don’t you think? She dressed up as Cinderella to go to the ball, and now Prince Charming is bringing her shoe back.”

“That’s a fairy tale. For all you know, this gentleman could be the villain in the story.” Darla looked me up and down. “No offence.”

“None taken, but I assure you my intentions are noble.” I offered a business card. “Garrett Dorsey. I run an investment company over in Roseburg. All I want to do is return Sara’s shoe and ask her to have dinner with me.”

Paulo gasped. “See? Totes adorbs, just like you and your hot builder.”

“Alex isn’t a builder. He only came to help out with some furniture.” Darla returned to studying me. “You run a company?”

What could I say? Nepotism had worked out well for me, although I’d still have preferred to keep my old job.

“For my sins.”

“Darla, don’t be such a party pooper,” Paulo chided, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come back in two hours. Sara’s joining us for the drawing class this afternoon. Hey, we could draw the shoe! The heel’s a little mangled, but I’m sure I can patch it up. Yes, that’s an excellent idea, and maybe you could pop over to the Coffee House and grab some cookies? Sara likes the double chocolate chip ones.”

Darla was right; Paulo shouldn’t be giving out Sara’s information like that, but I wasn’t going to complain when I could turn it to my advantage. Today’s trip had been worth the trouble, even if my PA hated me and my freshly shuffled schedule meant I had back-to-back meetings for the whole of Thursday. Two hours, and I’d finally see my runaway princess without the mask.

Two hours.

“I’ll get the cookies.”

12

SARA

The first thing I saw when I walked into the Craft Cabin with my portfolio case was a plateful of double chocolate chip cookies with a side of cake pops, but my spark of happiness was quickly extinguished because the second thing I saw was my shoe. My left shoe. The one I’d lost. The one I’d abandoned in the shadow of the monster. Good thing I hadn’t eaten any of those cookies because they’d have come right up again. I backed away, panic gripping my throat, then let out a little shriek as I stepped on somebody’s foot. Arms wrapped around my waist, and I began to struggle as they tightened, my breath coming in fast pants.

Get away, get away, get away.

Blue said the monster would shy away from the light, but she’d been wrong, hadn’t she? Because here he—

“Easy, Cinderella. Don’t break my nose.”

Now I stiffened, but this time not from fear. I recognised that voice. I’d replayed it in my head more times than was healthy over the past week, sometimes in frustration and sometimes with regret.

“Charming? What are you doing here?”

“Returning your shoe. Isn’t that how the story goes?”

“That’s fiction. If you do it in real life, it counts as stalking.”

“Even if I come bearing cake pops? Chocolate, not strawberry?”

“That’s playing dirty.”

A hand came up to my throat, and his breath tickled my ear. “What if I like playing dirty?”

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