“Everyone? Can I get your attention for a second, please?” Kim asked from atop a chair in the middle of one of the back rooms of the community center. The gala was a black-tie event, so it was a small miracle that Kim had been able to even get onto said chair, while wearing a skintight baby pink dress that hit her calves. Her strappy heels were discarded for now, so she stood on the chair in her stockinged feet.
The room was filled with the Here and Meow Committee members and their plus-ones—Amber had successfully guilted Edgar into attending, and he was currently both in a suit and sulking in a corner—dozens of volunteers, the Best of Edgehill competitors, and a few staff members who worked events at the community center. Mayor Deidrick and Chloe were here, too. The volunteers wore black slacks and crisp white shirts, while everyone else was in their best suits and gowns.
Amber had been trying very hard for the last hour to not gawk at Jack Terrence in his perfectly tailored black suit and red tie. She tried even harder not to notice how often his gaze raked over her in her pale blue gown. Kim had done Amber’s hair, piling it on top of her head in an elegant bun that was dotted with little white flowers, much like her own hair.
“I speak on behalf of the Here and Meow Committee when I say we’re so honored to have you all here,” Kim said. “You’ve worked so hard, and I’m thrilled we get to help celebrate Edgehill’s finest together. I know a lot of you are anxious about who is going to win tonight, and I know it’s cheesy, but the fact that you’re all here tonight says so much about what you’ve accomplished. Be proud, no matter what happens.”
Amber caught Betty Harris’s eye from across the room in her sequin-covered navy blue dress and gave her an enthusiastic double thumbs-up. Betty laughed and held up two sets of crossed fingers.
“Now, are you all ready to get this thing started?” Kim called out.
Everyone cheered in response.
“Volunteers, with me!” one of the community center staff members called out, then ushered the black-and-white clad group out of the room.
“Everyone but the ‘Best of’ contestants, follow us so you can find your seat. We’ll be letting in the masses soon,” Kim said. “Good luck out there!”
Amber helped Kim down from the chair while Ann Marie found Kim’s shoes. The Here and Meow Committee, their guests, and the guests of the “Best of” contestants trickled out of the meeting room and down the deserted hallway that Amber and Jack had walked down weeks ago on their way to set up the pastry spread for Olaf Betzen.
She could only hope the Hair Ball went more smoothly than the junior fashion show had.
The back door to the main part of the community center was closed, and Kim stood before it, one hand on the handle. She peered around at the group huddled behind her. Amber knew she wanted to see what the group’s reaction would be—no one outside of the committee, staff, and volunteers had seen the final transformation of the community center into a springtime wonderland.
“Welcome to the Hair Ball,” Kim said, and pushed the doors open.
There was a collective intake of breath; Amber, Kim, Ann Marie, and Nathan all grinned at each other.
Twenty round tables draped with eggshell white tablecloths were positioned around the room—ten on one side of the four-foot-wide, light-colored parquet wood pathway that led from the front doors to the stage, and ten on the other. Six chairs made of light-colored wood ringed each table. Each place setting had a gray linen napkin, a set of silverware, and a water glass. Circular wood slices a foot in diameter marked the center of each table, and were topped with small glass vases of blue, purple, and green, each one filled with an array of white tulips, cherry blossoms, and baby’s breath. Inch-tall candles, their small flames dancing, were dotted amongst the vases along with Amber’s plastic cats. Tented white name cards marked each place setting, the attendee’s name written in looping cursive and accompanied by a hand-drawn black silhouette of a cat—each one different from the next. Ben Lydon had drawn them all.
Above their heads, strings of lit bulbs hung from the ceiling.
Though Amber and the rest of the committee had helped decorate every inch of this place, the rustic springtime theme had been all Kim.
As people found their seats, Amber and Kim walked down the parquet floor to the still-closed front door. They had less than a minute before the gala was officially due to start. The pair stopped by the door and smiled at each other.
“Mel would have loved all this,” Amber said.
Kim beamed. “I think so too.”
Though Amber spent most of the evening helping make sure everything ran smoothly behind the scenes and hardly had a chance to sit down, let alone eat anything, she could tell how well the gala was going. The volunteer waiters and waitresses were polite and helpful. Those bussing the tables were efficient. All the electronic equipment ran as it should; Stan Tackles a Unicorn had, mercifully, been swapped out for a hilarious one-woman play; and the models didn’t suffer from a single wardrobe malfunction.
Votes were collected for each category once all competitors had offered or shown their contributions, and were then counted immediately in the back by Nathan and Ann Marie. Amber could only imagine how nervous Betty and Jack were.
At the end of the twelfth category—leisure—Henry and Danielle of 98.9 K-Mew were on the stage, microphones to their mouths.
“How’s everyone doing tonight? You having a good time?” Henry asked.
The crowd cheered.
“We just got word that the final tallies have been counted for the Best Of Edgehill,” said Danielle. “You all ready to hear the results?”
Another cheer rose up from the crowd.
Now that their work was temporarily done, the Here and Meow Committee all hurried to their tables so they could experience the end of the gala along with everyone else. Amber slid into a chair in between Edgar and Kim.
“First, we’d like to announce the winner of our artist competition,” Danielle said. “The winner will be the designer of this year’s logo for the Here and Meow, the designer of the ‘Best of’ stickers that will go on the winner’s websites and will be displayed in their shop windows, as well as designing this year’s commemorative pin.” She paused for dramatic effect, then glanced down at the clipboard she held in her hands. “Ben Lydon!”
The redheaded boy shot to his feet near the front of the room, his hands pressed to either side of his head. A very loud cheer erupted from the same general area; Mama Lydon was quite excited for her talented son.
“Now, we’ll be working in reverse just to further torment the folks who shared their delicious treats with us first,” Henry said.
A collective, good-natured grumble went through the room.
“The winner for leisure is … Feline Fine Day Spa!” Danielle called out, reading from the clipboard in her hand, which she then handed to Henry.
The owners of Feline Fine—a young married couple—stood and waved, while the attendees cheered them on. Since Ben had just been chosen as the festival’s head designer, the winners of “Best of” wouldn’t receive their promotional materials for another three to four weeks. Tonight was just an acknowledgment and celebration of the winners.
“The winner for the hotel category is … Tropical Purradise!” Henry announced.
Just Kitten Comedy Club, Purrfect Pitch, Hiss and Hers, the Milk Bowl, Shabby Tabby, Mews and Brews, and Patch’s Pizza were the winners from the next seven categories.
Which left the treats and coffee categories. Amber had been trying to catch Betty’s eye for the past twenty minutes, but she was on the other side of the parquet pathway and had her attention focused solely on the emcees. Jack was seated even farther away.
“For the treats category—and this one was very close, folks—the winner is …” Henry read. “Purrfectly Scrumptious!”
Amber wasn’t sure if she or Bobby yelped loudest. Bobby helped a sobbing Betty to her feet, her hands pressed to her face and her shoulders heaving. Purrcolate was a well-loved establishment in Edgehill, but Purrfectly Scrumptious was an institution. The crowd was on its feet, cheering for Betty, who seemed to cry harder the more people cheered for her.
“You did it, baby!” Bobby kept shouting. “You did it!”
On the count of three, Amber and Kim yelled at the top of their lungs, “We love you, Betty!”
Betty turned then and waved both hands in the air once she spotted Amber and Kim bouncing around like goons on the other side of the room.
“While it was close for the treats category, the coffee category was even closer. So close in fact that it was a tie between two of the shops, and the third won by one vote,” Danielle said. “You all ready?”
Amber bit her lip.
“Coffee Cat!” Danielle called out.
Given Amber’s own reaction to the gingerbread latte she’d had recently, she couldn’t say she disagreed with the choice, but she did feel bad that Jack had lost both categories.
Once the excitement of the announcement had faded, the attendees were served a full meal. After that, the party started. A bartender’s cart was rolled out, the dance floor opened, and Henry and Danielle took full control of the music. It was a celebration for the winners, it was a celebration for a successful gala run with a limited staff, and it was a celebration of Chloe Deidrick being back home with her family: her father and all of Edgehill.
The only thing that would have made the evening more perfect for Amber would have been if Melanie could have been dancing and laughing with her, Kim, and the rest of the Here and Meow Committee.
Once the meal was out of the way and the formality of the evening loosened a bit, Amber tracked down Betty, the two squealing and jumping up and down.
“I knew you could do it!” Amber said.
“I still can’t believe it!” said Betty.
“Oh, I just love you both!” Bobby said, his bottom lip shaking as he pulled them into a group hug. As soon as Bobby started crying, both Betty and Amber completely lost it.
When the drinking started, Betty and Bobby made for the exit. Amber told them that they would go out for celebratory Catty Cakes in the morning.
While Amber stood at the front doors, watching Betty—with Bobby’s arm wrapped tight around her shoulder—walk across the parking lot, she caught sight of Chief Brown chatting with Connor Declan. Curiosity piqued, she walked outside, the click of her kitten heels giving her away as she got closer; the lot was mostly deserted at the moment. Older residents had fled before things got too rowdy, while the younger set was just getting started. Both men looked up at her. Chief Brown smiled; Connor did not.
“Well, thank you for talking to me, Chief Brown.” Connor offered Amber a curt nod, said, “You look lovely this evening,” then turned on his heel and left before she could even think of how to respond.
Amber was still frowning after him when the chief said, “I came by to talk to you—and see how the Hair Ball turned out—but Declan cornered me before I could get in there. I swear the guy had been hiding between two cars waiting for me and popped out just when I went by. Scared the daylights out of me.”
“What did he want?” she asked, finally turning to him.
“Usual reporter stuff … wants to interview me about how the takedown of Sean Merrill went,” the chief said. “He was asking a lot of questions about you too, though. I’d keep an eye out for him. He’s very … suspicious.”
Amber recalled the way he’d followed her and found Cassie Westbottom instead. She’d need to sort out the Connor Declan problem later. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Once the dust settles, I may still need your help with the Chloe case,” he said. “That Sean Merrill is a piece of work. As soon as we got him in the interrogation room, we couldn’t shut the guy up. He threw everyone he could think of under the bus when he wasn’t too busy lying through his teeth. He had the audacity to blame Karen for all of this. Pretty classic psychopath: no empathy, no remorse, and thinks he’s smarter than everyone else in the room. He said if Karen had shown up after he’d originally called her, he wouldn’t have needed to kidnap Chloe.”
Amber pursed her lips. It was strange to so deeply hate someone she’d never met. “When Sean messaged her, he used a single photo—who was that?”
“It was a photo he found on some teenage boy’s public modeling portfolio,” the chief said.
As much as the idea of a police takedown sounded exciting, she was glad she’d never had to lay eyes on the creep. Besides, she would have been so unbelievably angry, her magic very well might have reacted without her permission and maimed him. Kim knowing Amber’s secret was bad enough; a group of law enforcement finding out about her abilities wouldn’t be ideal. Was maiming a felony?
“The person who kidnapped Chloe is an old friend of his from Lirkaldy—Shane Miller,” the chief continued, pulling Amber out of her thoughts. “Sean promised Shane a cut of the half-a-million life insurance payout—upwards of fifty grand—if he snatched Chloe. He drove Chloe to Portland, then ducked out of town once the deed was done. Shane is still at large; no one in Lirkaldy seems to know where the guy could be. I’ve got your buddy Alan Peterson on the hunt.”
“See,” she said, “not all PIs are bad.”
The chief offered a noncommittal shrug in response. “If we can’t find Shane in the usual ways, I’ll give you a call. Once Shane hears that he’s not getting his money, he might be ticked off enough to come after Chloe again.”
Amber nodded, hoping they caught the guy soon.
The chief’s attention shifted toward the community center. “I don’t have a ticket, but can I see how the Hair Ball turned out? Jessica wanted me to take pictures.”
She laughed. “You’re the chief of police—I’m pretty sure you can go anywhere you want.”
They walked back to the front of the center and stopped on the threshold.
The chief let out a whistle. “You guys did good.”
Smiling, she said, “Thanks. You did too.”
The chief wandered the building for a few minutes, snapping dozens of pictures. When Kim saw them, she came bounding over from the dance floor, her face flush and her hairline a little damp. “Chief! Come dance!”
He stared at her as if she’d just admitted that Marbleglen was a superior town and that they should burn Edgehill to the ground. “No, thank you,” he said. “I should be getting back to Jessica and the kids.” His gaze flicked to the dance floor full of twirling, laughing, and arm-waving people, and Amber could swear he paled. “Congratulations on the gala, ladies.” Then he hurried away even faster than Connor had earlier.
Kim shrugged and grabbed Amber’s hand. “You, however, cannot say no!” she said, tugging Amber after her.
Amber spent hours on the dance floor after that, even though her date refused to join her. Edgar stayed seated for most of the evening, though he watched the dancers with a strange kind of longing. Amber danced with Chloe and her friends—which they loved and were completely horrified by at the same time—and she danced with the committee members. At one point, Jolene and Ann Marie led the group of dancers through a popular line dance. It was easy enough that Amber forced the ever-grumpy Edgar onto the dance floor. He grudgingly cooperated and ended up picking up the dance even quicker than Amber had.
More than once, she caught Kim eyeing Edgar as if he was a sandwich and she was starving. Amber had yet to let her know that Edgar, too, was a witch. She was a little worried that that fact would make Edgar even more attractive to her.
She’d have to ask Edgar later how he wanted her to handle that, if at all.
The last dance of the night—just before midnight—was a slow one. Most of the crowd had cleared out of the community center by then. Cabs had been parked out in the lot in anticipation hours ago and were soon whisking drunk Hair Ball guests safely back home. Amber shoved Kim and Edgar together. She spotted a very red-faced Ben Lydon asking Chloe to dance, who happily said yes.
Amber flopped into a chair and kicked off her shoes, watching the remaining two dozen guests sway around the dance floor. Her feet and lower back ached, but she hadn’t been this content in a long time. She was also quite sure she could fall asleep sitting up—with her eyes open.
“I thought you weren’t much of a dancer,” she heard someone say close to her left ear.
She turned that way, but no one was there.
“You looked great out there,” he said to her right now. “Happy.”
When she turned her head toward his voice, she found Jack Terrence sitting beside her. Her first instinct had been to tell him how sorry she was that he’d lost in both categories tonight, but that intense look from the last time she’d seen him was back, making her apology dry up in her mouth. The memory of the zap she’d felt when their hands touched replayed in her head. Her magic didn’t feel haywire at the moment, though her heart hammered.
Then what he’d said caught up with her. “You … you remember that night at the Sippin’ Siamese?”
“Something happened when your hand touched mine. Maybe it screwed with whatever your aunt did,” he said. “Because now I remember everything.”
Amber swallowed. “Everything?”
His gaze swept across her face and down to her neck. He swallowed hard, too, then looked back up into her eyes. “Everything.”
What does he mean by “everything”?!
Find out in Pawsitively Swindled RIGHT MEOW!