Once Upon Stilettos
Page 85

But before either of us could make more of a move than that, Isabel came back, booming, “Now I’m ready to hit the town!” She was dressed neck-to-knee in sequins, which made her look like a walking Times Square billboard.
With a great sense of relief, I got out of my chair and moved from Rod’s office into Isabel’s outer office. “You look really, um, striking,” I said.
She did a pirouette that was surprisingly graceful for someone twice my size and nearly a foot taller. “Fun, isn’t it? I’ve been looking for an occasion to wear this.” She then saw my shoes and gasped. “Oh my! Those are amazing!”
Ari and Trix joined us, dressed in outfits so skimpy it would have taken all the material in both their dresses to make my skirt. I suddenly felt frumpy in comparison and wished I’d done more to dress up than put on a silk blouse with my black work skirt and red shoes. Their reactions, though, made me feel better. “Fab shoes, Katie,” Ari said.
Trix fluttered over to me. “Yeah, look at you! I bet you’ll find someone to replace Ethan by the end of the night.”
“You can count on that,” Ari added with a firm nod.
Isabel picked up some papers from her desk. “I’ve done a little online research, so I think I have a plan for the evening. Happy hour at one of those beautiful-people bars in SoHo—since we are definitely beautiful people tonight. Then dinner in the Village.”
“And then there’s this club I heard about,” Ari said. “Very hot, very now. I’m sure we can find a way to get in.”
Trix posed saucily. “We’ll have to cast a spell on them—whatever kind of spell it might take.”
I felt almost like a character on Sex and the City as we left the office building, going out for a glamorous night in New York with a group of girlfriends. Then I got a good look at Ari and Trix and nearly tripped over my own red shoes. They must have turned on their magical veiling spells when they left the building. I’d never seen them away from work without my magical immunity, so I’d never seen the illusions they wore to hide their status as fairies from the rest of the world. I still recognized them, but it was disconcerting to see them as wholly human. Without her slightly pointed ears and her gauzy wings, Ari’s halo of short blond curls made an even more striking contrast with her goth girl makeup and her edgy clothes. Trix, with her straight strawberry-blond pixie cut, looked like an incredibly cute, pert young woman. Isabel’s appearance hadn’t changed at all, so I presumed that meant she didn’t bother magically hiding her giant size in public.
Isabel put that size to good use and hailed a cab for us by blocking the street with her body. “We can’t be expected to deal with public transportation when we look this fabulous,” she explained.
The cab dropped us at a neon-trimmed bar in SoHo. Half the people in the place looked like models. Some of them were almost as tall as Isabel, but they nearly disappeared when they turned sideways. Isabel had no trouble shoving her way through the crowd and securing a table for us. All the other patrons were too frail to stand up to her.
We ordered drinks—tiny bottles of champagne with straws in them, like all the models were drinking—and watched the crowd. “We don’t stand a chance of getting anyone’s attention with all these models here,” I muttered dejectedly.
“You’d be surprised,” Ari said, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “We have our own ways.”
“Yeah, but where does that leave me?”
Trix patted me on the arm. “Don’t worry. Leave it to us.”
They must have worked quickly, for moments later, there was a rather attractive man at my side. “Hi there,” he said. “I haven’t seen you here before.” I glanced around me to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else. “Yes, you,” he said with a grin. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
I almost fell off my bar stool. “Me?”
“See? You’re so cute! Most of these models know they’re gorgeous and expect you to worship them. But you’re utterly irresistible.”
I looked over to Ari, sure she was putting the mojo on this poor guy, but she gave me an innocent shrug. “That’s really sweet of you to say so,” I replied, not sure he was entirely sane.
“I love your accent. Where are you from?”
“Texas.”
“Of course. That would explain why you’re so charming and genuine.” He held his hand out to me. “I’m Matt.”