Page 42 of The Princess and the Pizza Man

Winter bit her lip, mulling that one over. She didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t give away her matchmaking persona or the partnership she’d developed with Will. She certainly didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

“I hate seeing happy people sad,” she said. Bells smiled again and tilted her head before grabbing the curling iron.

“You are good people, Princess.” She curled a chunk of hairand then took a step back. “And you’re done.”

Bells carefully pulled the dress from the mirror, and Winter’s jaw dropped.

“Maybelle,” she said in a hushed whisper, “look how gorgeous I look.”

Bells covered a laugh as Winter rose from her seat to get a closer look. She’d woven her hair into a rope-like braid that started just over her left ear and twisted into an elegant waterfall of curls down her back. The hair framing her face was in twisted tendrils, loosely hanging by her cheeks but not falling into her eyes. All the pins were expertly hidden, and Winter knew there had to be hundreds in there, but she couldn’t see a single one.

She saw the speckles of ice blue and pastel pink between the twists of the braid, the specially colored sapphires sparkling in the lights surrounding the mirror. She felt like she’d actually become the princess she’d been pretending to be all week.

She jumped up and down, testing the strength of the up-do, and it held up nicely.

“I can’t believe you aren’t doing this for a living already,” she said, letting her shoulders relax as she leaned back into her seat. “I don’t want to ever take this out.”

“Well, it won’t be that comfortable to sleep on.”

“Then I’ll stay awake forever.”

Bells grinned, but it was one of those lackluster ones, her eyes crestfallen and full of longing. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

Winter whipped around. “You’re not going?” When Bells shook her head, she grabbed her hand. “No you have to.” She dropped her character, knowing that she hadn’t really been the princess anyway. “The murderer will be revealed tonight. There will be food, dancing, fun.” A playful grin teased her lips. “I’lldance with you.”

A small laugh dropped from Bells’ mouth. “I’m pretty sure your dance card is full.”

“Please?” An idea popped into her head. “Who am I going to point to when everyone inevitably asks me who did my hair?”

Bells rolled her eyes, but there was a sparkle back in them. Just a tiny one. Winter just needed one more thing to convince her.

“You can go through my closet.”

She snorted. “I couldn’t possibly fit in anything you own.”

“You could fit in my mother’s dresses.” She nudged Bells’ arm and sang, “She has some red carpet ones in there.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

There was a half a second pause before Winter heard a small squeal that she could’ve sworn was a ready teapot until she saw Bells’ mouth pop open. Before she could change her mind, Winter grabbed her by the hand and led her straight to the elevator. Maybe she couldn’t match her this week, but she’d be darned if she couldn’t get her to have an epic last evening at Frostville Mansion.

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