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MINKA
“Hair and makeup are scheduled.” Seraphina paces my office while Aubree lounges back on the couch, with her feet on the wall and her head dangling at an angle I swear would end with me unable to stand. “There’s a place a couple of blocks from here called Lori’s that stocks gowns for this sort of event. Lori is expecting you, and at the mayor’s request, is prepared to wait around like a silly little puppy to alter the dress so it fits you properly. I can organize your shoes and accessories too if you need, but—”
“They’re shoes.” I sit back at my desk around noon and press my thumb and finger to my eyelids. “I can put shoes on.”
“Niceshoes,” Seraphina grumbles. “Heels. Make sure they don’t clash with whatever gown you select, and make sure whatever gown you select doesn’t clash with your eyes.”
“My eyes?” Opening mine, I scowl at the woman who has invited herself into my life on a level I’m not entirely okay with. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”
“Nothing. They’re brown and glittery and pretty. You have that ochre-y gold hue with silver speckles. So instead of hiding all that, or washing it out, select a gown that sets them off.”
“Purple goes nice with brown eyes.” Aubree glances across and studies me upside down. “Soft lavender works too.”
“You could also choose a royal blue,” Seraphina adds. “But only if you choose blue shades in your eyeliner.”
“So now you’re saying I have to organize eyeliner as well?”
“No.” She stops pacing and places her hands on my desk. “I already told you, makeup and hair are booked. You just have to select the damn dress, then show the artists what you chose so they can coordinate the color palette.”
“I need a color palette now too?”
Aubree’s playful snicker earns her a scalding glare from the George Stanley media relations coordinator.
Seraphina’s job is to deal with the press and shield me from their crap, but somehow, in a matter of weeks, she’s earned the title of style and fashion planner, and coordinator in charge of making sure Chief Mayet does everything the new mayor wants.
It’s a thankless job.
Literally.
“Hair,” Seraphina growls. “Makeup. The ladies work in a salon just two blocks over called Allure. Co-owners. Best friends. One does hair, the other, makeup. They’ve cleared enough time in their schedule for youboth,” she pauses and glances back to Aubree, “assuming you’re also attending.”
“Yeppers. Do I get a gown from Lori too?”
“You can get a gown from Michelle Obama for all I care. Either way, you must select it, try it on, and pay for it.” Bringing her gaze back to me, she fakes a smile that says I’m close to getting a beatdown from the woman who wears a suit like a pro, never once in all the time I’ve known her having tugged the skirt down or fixed her blouse in my presence.
She is simply… flawless.
“Are you scheduled in for makeup and stuff too?” I ask her. “You’re attending the ball, right?”
“Yes I am. But I’ll do my own makeup.”
“Of course you will.” I sit back in my chair and glance across as my email dings with a report I’ve been waiting for. “You probably spun your own gown from angel’s tears, and had the woodland creatures help you sew.”
“I don’t…” She searches my expression for sense. “I don’t understand—”
“Sarcasm. Forget it.”
Opening the email, I read the report sent up from the lab, and frown so a line etches between my brows and upsets Seraphina legions more than it upsets me.
“Aubree?”
Pushing up to sit straight, she brings a hand up in salute. “Yes, Cap’n?”
“Get up.” Shoving up from my desk and snagging my cell, I drop it into my coat pocket and circle around Seraphina. “I’ll do my best to get a dress and turn up for my appointments on time.”
“Don’t do your best.” She spins with a glower and tracks my movements across the office. “Just do it! Be there on time. Don’t turn this into a thing where I have to tie you down and force you to sit still.”
Pausing at the door, I glance back and tease. “You’ve considered it, haven’t you?”
