Page 73 of Hallow Hill at Halloween: Part One

“I just get to wear it,” I said with a little false modesty. “Braden is the genius who creates works of art like this one. But once again, everybody, thank you for the best birthday present ever.” To John David, I said, “And thank you for an occasion to wear it.”

I knew I’d monopolized the scene for more than three minutes.

“Ching. Ching. Ching. Everybody,” I said. “I’d like to introduce the winner of the costume contest. ESMERELDA!”

I swooped my hand toward the entrance in a gesture stolen directly from Vanna White. I know you’re wondering how I know about Vanna White. Well, my grandad used to watch her every evening and there was only one TV in their house. I guess you could say she was an influence of mine.

When Esme came to the door, she was greeted by oohs, aahs, and ohs. As I enjoyed watching her eat up the attention, John David leaned over to me and quietly said, “What costume contest?”

“It was a last-minute thought, and I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

“How did you know I wouldn’t mind?”

“Because you’re so affable and easy-going.” I smiled coquettishly.

He laughed softly while looking down at the amber liquid in his highball glass, and took a sip. After he swallowed, he said, “Alright then. Who is she supposed to be?”

“Are you blind? She’s a vampire!”

His head jerked toward Esme. After a two-second stare, he reacted with a full-throated laugh I’d never heard come from him before.

“Rita. Are you mad? There’snothingabout Esme that says vampire.”

It was my turn for a head jerk toward the lady in question. “Why do I think that? Wait. It can’t be only me or else there wouldn’t be so much agreement in the room that she looks…”

“Like a dark goddess?”

“Well, yeah.” I glanced back at John David. “But not vampire?”

He shrugged. “Where did you get that idea? Movies? Maybe?”

“I guess. I’m not sure I want you to tell me how to recognize real vampires, but on the other hand, I do want to know.”

“Good. An excuse for tea.”

I nodded. “After Samhain Court.”

“I will not forget,” he said. “Champagne or would you like something else to drink?”

“The champagne is such a nice touch, but it gives me a headache.”

“Can’t have that.”

“Ummm? Manhattan? With one of those rock things?”

I half expected him to say his bar wasn’t equipped with square ice blocks, but I should never underestimate John David.

With two fingers, he motioned a waiter over and repeated my order just as Esme made her way over to us.

“Before dinner drink?” I asked.

“I will,” Esme said. “Wine. Black blend.”

The waiter bent at the waist while continuing to hold his tray of champagne flutes perfectly level.

Braden came up just as he left. “Thanks for the good word about my craft.”

I laughed. “You know your work needs no accolades in this circle. Everybody here knows you’re the best. Maybe even better than…”

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