Page 70 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

It was the day of the Vampire Ball, and I knew excitement would be rippling throughout the town. The only thing keeping me from registering a ten on the excitement meter was my waning energy and the fact that I was having to use cosmetics to disguise the telltale signs of a middle-aged woman not getting enough sleep. The best overnight cream in the universe couldn’t make up for a lack of rest.

Olivia wouldn’t be coming because she was committed to the Weir Manor kitchen for the day. I hoped she was charging John David a truckload of money.

I kept myself on a non-alcohol liquid diet for breakfast and lunch, partly because my stomach no longer stayed flat without effort and partly because I wanted a hollow torso. All the better to enjoy too many courses of too-rich food.

After my morning constitutional with Lochlan and the dogs, I’d taken a stab at looking over case files, but focus was elusive. Lochlan had mentioned that I was keeping a slower pace than usual. His innately keen observation had two sides. I needed him to catch every detail when he was functioning as court clerk, but would just as soon he not notice my waning energy.

I made a mental note to ask Esme about magical community medicine for slightly enhanced humans. Maybe I needed a checkup.

Keir hadn’t called in over twenty-four hours. I was a tiny bit miffed but knew he had a compelling reason. He was, after all, the world’s most considerate husband as far as I knew.

So, I spent the rest of the day puttering about. That included a cautiously long hot soak with special salts for glowing skin and lavender for calm. The second I felt drowsy I got out. As I dried off I found myself wishing, for the tenth time that day, that I could have just one cigarette without becoming the world’s most committed addict all over again.

The time passed faster than I would’ve expected. Glancing at the clock, I saw that I had just ten minutes. Makeup done. Hair done. Dress zipped – quite a feat without a significant other onsite. The fabulous faux jacket was hanging on the free-standing rack ready to warm and dazzle.

Time for the piece de resistance. I pulled the brooch out of the box and positioned it so that the top just brushed my lower clavicle if I struck a certain pose.

In short. The outfit was stunning. Esme had a magical gift of remaking an ordinary girl like me into a bombshell like the one standing in front of me at mirror. I could almost kid myself into believing I deserved to be Rita Hayworth’s namesake. One more twirl I told myself just as I started into the second twirl.

The dress was worthy of an editorial shoot. In any other case, I would vote to leave all jewelry behind because it was that spectacular and didn’t need any help. But since I had one of the two biggest, most beautiful diamonds in the world, why not flaunt it? It wasn’t like I was being asked to that sort of occasion every night.

Nope. The fact was that I was a homebody who loved dogs, fireplaces, Americanos, and a too-sexy-for-everything Sephalion. Watching TV with Keir while wearing fleece jammies was the image that showed up when somebody said, “Go to your happy place.”

Maybe that makes me shallow.

“Okay. So, it does make me shallow, but four times a year I work really hard to head the magic kind judicial system and factor a little sanity and civilization into their perspective.”

I looked down to see both dogs staring at me and realized I’d been talking out loud. My first reaction was to assess which dreaded old person’s mental disease was in the onset stage. My second reaction was to make myself believe the dogs were there and that I’d been entertaining them with a little pre-red-carpet chatter.

“Yeah. I know,” I said, dropping all pretense that I wasn’t talking to my dogs. Just to be sure that everyone present was on the same page, I wagged a finger at the dogs and said, “Lots of great people have talked to their dogs. Like Patton. And Elizabeth II. It’s nothing to be worried about.”

Fenn whimpered once and flopped down thinking it was going to be a long lecture. But as soon as I said, “Going now. Be good puppies,” he withdrew himself from Rita Watch and turned his attention to more important things, like looking for dust bunnies under the closet cabinetry.

I lifted the faux sable jacket that Esme had made the winter before from the standing rack and swirled it into place. The drape was heavenly, swing style that moved around my thighs when I walked and made me feel pretty. It was a little disappointing that Keir wasn’t there to tell me how great I looked. I hadn’t heard from him all day and was hoping that meant there was progress and he’d be home soon.

Sigh.

It occurred to me then, I’d always loved playing dress-up. That thought was immediately followed by a secret wish that Rhiannon would like it, too.

As I approached Romeo’s den, adjacent to the kitchen, I said, “Romeo. We’re going out.”

By the time I reached my beautiful auto, he had opened the driver-side door and was in the process of raising the overhead. I couldn’t help a grin. I made a mental note to write about Romeo in my gratitude journal.

“Calling for Esmerelda,” I told him.

“Yes, madam.”

Esme seemed to know when we arrived because her door opened promptly when we came to a stop.

As she got in on the passenger side, I said, “Happy Vampire Ball!”

She tried to keep her signature blank expression but failed and gave me a small smile instead.

“Before I agree,” she countered, “tell me who’s driving. You? Or Romeo?”

“Would it make you feel more comfortable to know Romeo is in charge?” I asked.

“Don’t be offended, but… yes.”

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