Page 3 of Enchanted to Meet You

Because, although the mayor’s wife didn’t know it, the dresshadbeen made for her—well, tailored, anyway. Because as soon as it arrived, I’d set it aside, knowing it would be perfect for her—with a few little adjustments of my own.

“Oh.” The older woman fingered the delicate cloth longingly as she gazed at her reflection. “I have to say, I do love it. And the price is just right, as always. But Rosalie Hopkins and some of those other women from the Yacht Club—”

My voice was sharper than I intended it to be. “What about them?”

“Well, I just wouldn’t want them to think I was”—her voice dipped even lower—“putting on airs.”

“Who cares what anyone else thinks?” The mere allusion to Rosalie Hopkins—not to mention the Yacht Club—was enough to cause me to momentarily forget my fatigue, as well as Hot Doorway Guy. Margo Dunleavy was one of the sweetest women in West Harbor, but, like so many caretakers, she always put others before herself. The upcoming ball was the perfect time for her to shine, if only she’d let me do my job and make it happen. “If you feel good in it, that’s all that counts.”

“Well.” Mrs. Dunleavy chewed worriedly at her lower lip. “I suppose that’s true. Rosalie says she’s going into the city to buy her gown.” Margo’s gaze met mine in the mirror. “Which I toldher is a mistake!” she added quickly. “Support local businesses. You know that’s always been one of our campaign slogans.”

“Thank you for that. I wonder if this will help.” I draped a navy crepe de chine shawl around Mrs. Dunleavy’s bare shoulders. Dotted with crystals that shimmered when they caught the light, the shawl brought out the silver in the older woman’s hair, as well as the sparkle in her dark eyes. “Now what do you think?”

Margo Dunleavy caught her breath and, right there in the mirror, a transformation seemed to take place. Suddenly, she was standing taller, her shoulders thrown back, her cheeks aglow with a color that hadn’t been there before...

... and I knew I’d worked the magic I’d been hoping for.

“Oh, Jess!” she cried. “I love it!”

“Do you?” I beamed. This was the part I loved best about my job—what made all the late nights and hard work worth it. “I’m so glad. And again, not that it matters what anyone thinks but you, but I’m sure Mrs. Mayor will love it, too.”

“Oh, I think you’re right. I’ll take it. I’ll take them both, the dress and the... the... whatever this blue thing is.”

“Great. We’ll wrap them up for you.” I was grinning—until my gaze returned to the doorway of my shop, and I caught sight of my afternoon visitor once again. He was still looking my way—but unlike me, definitely not smiling.

And that’s when, for the first time, I noticed that Hot Doorway Guy had a bright silver amulet hanging from a black leather cord around his neck—an amulet I recognized immediately once he stepped out of the doorway and some of the bright afternoon sunlight spilled in from behind him.

No. That was my first thought. Justno.

What did the World Council of Witches want with me? Theirbylaws made it very clear that I didn’t qualify for membership—not that I cared to join their ultra-exclusionary club.

And choosing clothes for women that made them feel sexy and confident couldn’tpossiblycount as a violation of using magic without—

“Jessica Gold?” Doorway Guy said, in such a deep voice that nearly every customer in the shop spun around curiously to look at him, and then—the ones who knew me, at least—at me.

And though the expression on his face was carefully neutral, my heart started banging in my chest.

Run, I thought.Run.

But where? Earlier that morning I’d propped open the shop’s front door to welcome in not only the crisp autumn breeze, but the many out-of-towners who’d come from the city to look at the leaves, which had recently peaked in color, setting the forested hillsides around Connecticut’s Gold Coast ablaze in brilliant swathes of red, gold, and orange.

But now as tourists strolled down the Post Road past Enchantments’ open front door and peeked inside, all they could see was this guy’s broad-shouldered back as he stared at me, refusing to budge until I spoke with him—and blocking my only path of escape.

Great. So not only was I being held hostage by a member of the WCW, I was losing potential sales, as well.

It’s really no wonder witches have such a bad reputation.

Fine. I wasn’t going to run. Even if I had somewhere to go, that would be undignified.

“Uh, Becca,” I said to my trusty sales assistant. “Could you ring up Mrs. Dunleavy’s purchases after she’s changed? I have to meet with this, er, gentleman here for a few moments.”

Gentleman.Yeah, right.

“Of course.” Becca’s dark eyes were wide with curiosity andconcern as she watched the tall stranger follow me into my small, cluttered office in the back of the shop—curiosity because she’d never seen this man before, and concern because . . . well, my office was a well-known disaster area, and I’d never allowed anyone in there before—anyone except Enchantments employees and Pye, my cat and our official shop mascot.

“Sorry,” I muttered as I lifted a pile of unpriced bralettes in order to make room for him on the office’s only visitor’s chair.

Since there was no place to put the lacy bralettes, however, due to the piles of other merchandise, not to mention the bags of candy I’d bought (and already begun snacking on) to give out during the Post Road’s Halloween Trick-or-Treating, I could only set them on the desk in front of me...