Page 84 of Enchanted to Meet You

“Nothing’s wrong with it. But the Bringer of Light’s girlfriend might be getting crowned Harvest Princess tonight. I’d have thought you’d get dressed up a little.”

“I did dress up a little.” He plucked at his black long-sleeved henley. “I changed my shirt.” Then his gaze fell on me. “Oh.I see.”

He came the rest of the way down the stairs, took one of my hands into his, then spun me around, causing my full skirt to twirl around me. “You look beautiful. Now I feel stupid.”

“No, you’re fine. You look great.”Iwas the one who felt stupid. He was just being nice, whereas I had snarked at him. One of the unfortunate things about my gift was that it didn’t work on myself. Prosperity spells? Yes. My bank account was full, and Enchantments, even without being able to take credit cards, wasdoing record business, thanks to the crowds coming in for the Tricentennial Festival.

But the ability to design a gown that looked great on myself? Not a skill that I possessed. Everything I owned came off the rack from the discount outlets—including what I was wearing, a midnight blue velvet minidress with a corset-inspired waistline, long, drapey sleeves, and a full skirt.

I was great at making money by telling other people what to wear. What I wasn’t great at was much of anything else.

“We’d better hurry if we want to get there on time,” I said, dropping his hand and the subject, and reaching for my handbag and coat.

“How come you can’t take a compliment?” He reached for me again, his fingers skimming the many buttons along the dress’s waistline.

“Oh, I can,” I assured him. Lie. “I’m just worried about the dress code.”

“There’s a dress code?”

“Yes, of course. It’s the Yacht Club.”

“How am I supposed to know what people wear to a yacht club?”

“I should have told you. It’s fancy. It’s for members only.”

“Are you a member?”

“No. What would I be doing, joining a yacht club? Do I look like someone who owns a yacht?”

His gaze flicked over my black lace patterned hose and platform boots. I won’t lie: there was some heat there. That was more flattering than any verbal compliment he could have given me. “Maybe.”

“The answer is no. No, I do not. And neither do you. But it’s too late to change now.” And the truth was, I didn’t really want him to. I couldn’t wait to see what all the West Harbor yachtiesmade of Derrick, with his long hair and black leather motorcycle jacket and boots. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Pye’s cries at the unfairness of being locked inside the house for yet another night followed us to my car, but there was no way I was letting him roam freely. Not when the moon was nearly full, another king tide was predicted, and there were rumors of more wolf sightings. Someone claimed to have seen one in the Dairy Queen parking lot after midnight—a strange place for a wolf to hang out—while someone else insisted they’d seen several over by the high school.

Good thing Sal had given up and canceled school for the rest of the week after learning the newly resodded football field had been flooded. Nobody had been that enthusiastic about attending class during Tricentennial Week in the first place. Who was going to want to show up with a bunch of apex predators on the loose?

“So we’re only going to this to support Esther,” I said to Derrick as I steered Bluebell 2 into the Yacht Club parking lot. “And she’s only going to support Gabby. As soon as the two of them are out of there, we’re out, too. Right?”

“Of course.” Derrick was frowning. “Why would we stay?”

“Because people will try to make us.”

“What?” He looked as alarmed as if instead ofpeople,I’d saiddemons. “Why?”

“They want me to join.” I pulled into a parking space marked Visitor and switched off the engine. “They used to not allow memberships to Jews and obviously not witches, but I guess they can’t afford to be choosy anymore. Memberships have gone way down, probably because they’re asking for twenty grand a year to join.”

Derrick’s silver eyes widened. “What kind of placeisthis?”

“The one place on earth even worse than the World Council of Witches.”

The Yacht Club was located right on the Sound—obviously, since people docked their yachts in the adjoining marina—and the scent of sea was strong enough to permeate even the new car smell inside Bluebell 2. I could hear waves sloshing against the nearby pier, as well as the more distant tinkle of the live jazz trio inside the single-story, mostly glass structure that housed the club. The original building had been destroyed by a nor’easter back in the 1950s, and the members had rebuilt in the style that was popular back then.

“So a hellscape,” Derrick said. “We’re about to enter a hellscape.”

I smiled and winked at him. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Obviously I’ve been to the Yacht Club before. Mark’s parents joined for a red-hot second back when their restaurant first took off. Mr. Giovanni thought that giving his wife an evening out every now and then, with some dinner and dancing, would be nice, and Mark’s sisters were delighted by the private outdoor pool.