This is the first girls’ night I have had in forever, and maximum fun depends on maintaining a low profile. My bodyguard, Corinne, found a minivan in the RCMP fleet—not something Gavin and I usually get transported in, although maybe we’ll use it more as our family grows. It’s perfect for traveling incognito, and surprisingly spacious and comfortable inside.

After some negotiation—where I told Gavin I would be fine with just Corinne and one more female officer—I agreed to a discreet back-up detail parked nearby.

My husband wasn’t swayed by my suggestion that the bustling metropolis of Metcalfe might be perfectly safe for me to visit without any security at all. And then he played the “mother of my children” card and I capitulated. So when we park behind the bakery in town, Corinne tells me the other detail will be stationed on the other side of the street party, behind a bar called Duke & Main.

The back door of the bakery opens, and Corinne hustles us from the van and inside where she makes introductions.

“Ellie, this is Bas Absolom, the event organizer. Bas, Ellie Strong,”

I shake his outstretched hand. “Lovely to meet you, Bas. I appreciate the effort you’ve gone to so that my friends and I can blow off a little steam. I’d like you to meet Sasha, Beth, and Violet.”

“Nice to meet you all,” he says with a wide grin.

“There are goodies at all the stalls, so you’ll need these,” Bas says as he hands us each a small cotton bag with Duke Street Trick or Treat printed on them. “It’s been lovely meeting you. I need to get back to the party. Enjoy yourselves and if there’s anything you need, Corinne will let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” we all say in chorus, then dissolve into laughter. We all needed this, for sure.

Once we’re alone, I take a good look at how my friends have dressed up. I was the last to be picked up, and the inside of the van was too dark to see much.

My best friend and former roommate has gone with a sexy twist on history. “Sasha, that costume is positively decadent. Cleopatra?”

“In the flesh. Left the snake at home, though.”

“You really shouldn’t talk about poor Tate, like that,” Violet says with a wink. Then she shrugs out of her jacket, revealing more her costume. Not that there’s much to see.

Sasha purrs. “Does Max know you’re dressed up like a naughty little cheerleader?”

“He picked it out,” Violet says. “Speaking of which…” She leans in. “Bas did a good job of pretending he doesn’t know me, but within our cone of silence—“ She wiggles her finger at us. We all know the drill.

Max and Violet are super kinky. We all are, in different ways, but they’re the most free about it.

They get to be free about it.

“Cone of silence,” I say breathlessly. I love kinky secrets.

Violet grins. “We’ve seen him at events. Max says he’s a great Dom, really nice, excellent teacher.”

Beth makes a happy sigh, and we all turn towards her.

She shrugs. “What? He has big hands. It’s good to hear he knows how to use them. Don’t worry, I’m happily taken with my sexy men.”

Beth fell in love with two Mounties. And they both fell for her—and each other. They’re adorable together.

As if she can read my mind, her cheeks turn pink, and she tugs the face part of her costume up and over her head, hiding her sweet embarrassment. “Enough of that,” she says through the bright blue nylon.

“What exactly is your costume, anyway?” Violet asks. “I thought we were all doing the dirty thing.” She tugs at the tiny cheer skirt.

Beth wiggles in the bright blue body stocking. “I’m not wearing anything underneath it, ladies. This is practically like streaking, in public, with my boss's wife by my side. And what could be dirtier than having your men cut their way in for some playtime to finish off the evening?”

“I take it back. That’s wicked dirty. Ellie, meanwhile just looks all classy dressed up like a flapper.”

“Hey,” I protest in mock indignation. We all know I can’t be photographed in bunny ears and a furry tail, as much as I might like that. There are rules one must follow when one is married to the prime minister. “Flappers can be dirty and classy.”

Corinne is standing off to the side dressed like a sexy western sheriff—an excellent costume to include a very real weapon on her hip. She’s obviously trying to hold in her amusement. She makes it easy for me to relax and just be me, and puts real effort into blending in without injecting herself into the situation. I appreciate that more than she can possibly know.

“Come on,” Sasha says. “As much as it would be lovely to stand here and gab, there’s a whole party waiting out there.”

We make our way through the bakery, trick or treat bags firmly in hand. The other security officer is at the door waiting for us. She nods and heads out first, while Corinne brings up the rear.

The street is crowded, but it’s not a complete crush. Not yet, anyway.

“Let’s work our way up this side of the street, then come back down the other so we can stop for a drink or two before heading home,” I suggest.

Everyone voices their agreement and we start off at the baker’s stall. She’s adorable in her steampunk outfit. Violet and I buy a muffin to eat on the way home and we move on.

“I want to check out the books,” Violet says as we near the stall.

We stop to have a look, and Beth catches my eye and lifts a brow in question as we both notice there’s a whole section on kink. I shake my head at her slightly. It’s one thing to be here, but I can only imagine the fuss if it got out that the prime minister’s wife and his assistant bought kinky sex books.

She nods and we go back to perusing the tamer offerings before continuing to the next stall. Here a local musician is selling CDs, and I happily buy one for us to listen to on the drive home. He recognizes me, which I expected, and we take a quick picture together.

“Do me a favour and don’t post that to social media until I leave, okay?” I wink at him, and I think it’ll work. Everyone likes a conspiratorial whisper and being in on a secret with a VIP.

It’s still hard to think of myself as that, even after two years of being in Gavin’s life and more than a year of marriage. Most of the time, I’m still Ellie Montague, a PhD student constantly negotiating another six months for her dissertation.

But then there’s a red carpet event, or an important announcement, or—shudder—an election, like the one coming next year. And then I’m very much Mrs. Gavin Strong, a part of his public image and entirely up for critique.

We collect candy at a few more stalls. My favourite is a costume shop stall. They have the most incredible masks, and the proprietor is wearing an ornate plague mask with an elongated beak nose.

As part of his stall he has a gorgeous human-sized birdcage, at least ten feet tall, with creaky door that swings easily on its hinges when I touch it. “Would you like to try it out?” the man in the plague mask says, and oh, yes, I would.

But I can’t.

Always aware of the optics.

“Maybe Sasha?” I suggest, turning to my friends. My bestie happily complies, dancing her way into the cage. We howl as I close her in, the creak of the door adding to the whole ambience.

Beth snaps our picture with my phone, then another further away. “For your personal reference, should you want to have a cage made,” she whispers when she hands it back.

I adore my friends. I whisper my thanks back.

Then it’s on to the next stall, and the one after that. “Trick or treat!” we call out, collecting candy in our bags.

It takes more than an hour to complete the loop. When we pass the Filthy Ottawa Social Club, Beth and I leave Sasha and Violet to play on the spanking bench together, and we go on ahead to the bar.

“Did you have fun?” I ask Sasha when they finally join us. “We ordered a round of the signature cocktails, they should be here soon.”

“Oh yeah, spanking was amazing.”

Violet’s cheeks are pink. “She’s a natural. Maybe Tate’s bottom doesn’t know what’s coming?”

“Maybe,” Sasha murmurs. “Although Tate’s bottom likes most things that I do to it, so…he’ll be game.”

“You mean…” I clear my throat and look around. “Not here.”

From behind me, Corinne is laughing. I don’t blame her.

“No, not here,” Beth says smoothly. “But in the van.”

I nod. “Oh yes. In the van. One hundred percent.”

Sasha beams. Of course she wants to show off her I-know-where-my-man’s-prostate-is skills. She’s a freak.

We all are.

It’s wonderful.

“Ladies,” a booming voice says above us. “I have your drinks.”

We look up as one at Bas, who serves us four shimmering drinks, each one a slightly different opalescence. Pinks, blues, oranges, and reds all swirl together with some kind of edible sparkle dust scattered over the surface.

“To Halloween,” Sasha says, lifting her glass.

I lift mine. “And to Bas, because this has been some much needed fun.”

“To Bas!” we all cry out, our glasses tinkling.

He winks. “And with that, I’ll leave you be. I have a woman to find.”

“Ohhhh,” Beth and Sasha say.

“Awwww,” Violet and I say.

And then it’s Bas Absalom’s turn to blush.