Once Upon Stilettos

Gemma gave me an assessing nod. “Yeah, I think with a little black dress, or maybe a black skirt and white blouse. It depends on where he’s taking you.”



“Like he’d tell her where he’s taking her,” Marcia said with a snort.



“He does seem to like the top-secret dates,” I admitted. “I think he enjoys surprising me.”



“Well, he can surprise you with someplace very, very nice,” Gemma said.



Jeff, staring at me like he used to when he was under the enchantment that made him obsessed with me, said, “Even if he isn’t planning that, he’ll change his plans once he sees her. A girl looks like that, she’s going to be taken someplace special.”



“I would have to agree,” Philip said softly. “When a lady has made that obvious an effort with her appearance, she deserves a certain level of treatment.”



I shot my mom a triumphant look. It was nice to have validation from actual men. Maybe that’s what I’d been doing wrong all along. I’d been so worried about being practical that I’d forgotten about making myself special. If I didn’t think I was special, why should anyone else?



And I was special, I reminded myself. I was immune to magic, a trait that was extremely rare. I had an important job because of that. I might as well dress like it.



Mom sighed and shook her head. “A lady should be a lady no matter how fancy she’s dressed,” she said. She went to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out a can of soda.



“I think that a lady who attires herself well is complimenting the gentleman she’s with, showing him that she values his company,” Philip argued. That totally stunned me. He seldom said much of anything. I halfway suspected he’d spent too much time as a frog and had forgotten how to communicate as a human. Gemma never seemed to notice or mind.



“He’s right,” Dad said. “You hush, Lois. Don’t bring the girl down. She looks nice. She is all grown-up, you know, and if you ever want to throw that wedding you’ve been daydreaming about, she’s going to have to dress herself up to land a man.”



I was glad he was on my side, but I wasn’t sure I liked the implication that I had to dress up to get a man. Then again, I hadn’t had dramatic success up to that point, other than with Ethan.



“Well, fashion show’s over. Time for me to turn back into Cinderella,” I said, then went into the bedroom and shut the door. I admired myself in the mirror one last time. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the hottest of them all?” I said softly. Then I took the dress off and hung it up. I put my sweater back on before I finally forced myself to take off the red shoes and put on my jeans. I carefully wrapped the shoes in tissue and replaced them in their box, then stashed the box on a shelf in the closet. Fortunately, neither Gemma nor Marcia wore the same size shoes as I did. We could share tops and sometimes even skirts, but they were taller than I was and wore bigger shoes. Before, I’d always regretted that because Gemma had a fantastic shoe wardrobe. Now, though, I was glad because it meant those shoes were all mine.



I went back out into the living room and asked, “Is there any pumpkin pie left?”



“I made an extra just for leftovers,” Mom said.



“Anyone else want some?” I offered. They all nodded or raised their hands. I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water before I got out the pie and cut slices for everyone, then topped them with whipped cream and passed them out.



I stood at the kitchen counter, eating pie and sipping water, while I listened to the hum of conversation. I’d dreaded my parents coming to visit, but I was glad they had. It was good having them around again.



“So, Katie, what are you going to show us tomorrow?” Mom asked, startling me out of my thoughts when she brought her plate to the kitchen.



“Is there anything you’d like to see?”



“We were hoping we could see where you work.” She held up her hand to quiet my protest before I could get a word out. “I know we won’t be able to go inside, especially not on a Saturday, but I want to see the building. That way, when you talk about going to work, I’ll be able to picture it.”



“That’s a great idea,” Marcia said. “You work near City Hall, don’t you, Katie?”



“Yeah, and near the Woolworth Building.”



“Okay, then,” Gemma said, “tomorrow it’s downtown. We’ll come along, too. Katie hasn’t shown us her office, either.”



“It should be relatively quiet down there on a Saturday,” Marcia added. “We can show you Wall Street, the Stock Exchange, and Battery Park, too.”