Once Upon Stilettos (Enchanted Inc #2)
Read Once Upon Stilettos (Enchanted Inc #2) Online
Authors: Shanna Swendson
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Magic, #New York (N.Y.), #Romance, #Love Stories, #Humorous, #Humorous Fiction, #Women, #Young Women, #Women - Employment, #Chandler; Katie (Fictitious Character), #Employment
Contents
Don’t miss this “enchanting” first novel chronicling...
Dedicated in loving memory of my aunts, Marie Swendson and Frances Ryan, who were always so supportive of my literary aspirations.
Special thanks to
Mom and Rosa for the reading, feedback, nagging, and encouragement as I wrote; my agent, Kristin Nelson, and my editor, Allison Dickens, for helping me whip this book into the best possible shape; Barbara Daly for New York location research assistance; Jim Loats for giving Arthur J. Lansing (the very important businessfrog) his name; Stuart Weitzman for designing a very inspiring pair of red stilettos; The Brown-coat Army, which knows a thing or two about guerilla marketing; all the readers who wrote to me, told their friends, showed up at book signings and otherwise made the release of
Enchanted, Inc.
so much fun. I hope you enjoy this one as much.
I
t all began with the red shoes. I just didn’t know it at the time.
I was out shopping with my roommate Gemma on a Saturday afternoon. That wasn’t unusual. The unusual part was that we were shopping for me. Even more unusual was the fact that we were shopping for something for me to wear on a date—a real date. Not a blind-date setup, but an honest-to-goodness date with a guy who’d asked me out for a second date after a first date that could have made the record books for weirdness.
Any guy who asks you out for a second date even though he nearly had a nervous breakdown caused by your friends and co-workers on the first date has to be pretty special. He deserves a little extra effort. And that’s why Gemma and I were in Bloomingdale’s that Saturday.
“Let’s go upstairs and look at shoes,” she urged me, tugging at my sleeve.
“But we haven’t found anything for me to wear yet,” I protested. “How are we going to figure out what shoes I need?”
She looked at me with pity in her eyes and shook her head sadly, like a doctor about to tell me I had two weeks to live. “Oh, Katie, honey. You have so much to learn. We need to find the ultimate pair of shoes, and then we’ll build an outfit around them.”
When she bypassed the moderate shoes and continued up the escalators to the designer boutiques, I got the impression that her “ultimate” would exceed my budget. “Gemma,” I warned, trying not to whine, “if we buy shoes up here, then I’ll have to wear a plastic garbage bag as a dress, and I’ll only be able to afford that if we already have some under the sink.”
“We only have clear ones, so I doubt you want to go there,” she said, not breaking stride. “And relax, I’m not going to make you buy designer shoes. We just come here for ideas and inspiration, then we’ll buy the closest thing we can find at a more reasonable price.”
I knew her well enough to know what she was doing, and it had nothing to do with putting together a great outfit for my date that night. She couldn’t go into Bloomingdale’s without making a pilgrimage to the holy shrine of shoes. Her pace quickened as we bypassed the designer boutiques and headed straight for the upscale shoe department. There she paused reverently at each display, lightly touching certain shoes. Every so often, she picked one up, held it to her breast, and closed her eyes in silent contemplation. I tried not to look at any of the shoes because I knew I couldn’t afford them and there was no point in developing longings for things I couldn’t have.
Not only was that a wise philosophy where shoes were concerned, it was also the reason I was going on this particular date. It only made sense to go out with the guy I could have, who fit every requirement I could think of for a man, rather than pining over someone I couldn’t have. Ethan was good looking, intelligent, nice, and had a good job. He also wasn’t the most powerful wizard of his generation, unlike someone else I could mention but didn’t want to think about.
Blinders, remember,
I warned myself.
Then Gemma let out a gasp of awe mixed with longing. “Katie, look at these. You have to look at these.”
I lifted my eyes from the carpet to see Gemma holding a red shoe. Not just any red shoe, but a high-heeled stiletto pump that looked like it was made out of candy apple coating, all rich, shiny, red, and good enough to eat. “Nice,” I admitted.
“Nice? Nice? That’s all you can say? These are amazing. These are shoes that say, ‘Worship me.’ You have to get these.”
“Do I really want men to worship me?”
She gave me another one of those pitying looks. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I’m not the kind of girl men worship. And I’d prefer a more equal relationship.”
“Wear these shoes, and you get the worship. And then you can have the relationship on any terms you want—equal or otherwise.”
“But I don’t have anything to go with them,” I said, changing tactics.
She gave me a “what will I ever do with you?” sigh. “You don’t find clothes that ‘go with’ shoes like these. These shoes aren’t just accessories. They’re an outfit that you accessorize with a simple black or gray dress. This is what you should wear on your date.”
“I can’t afford to buy shoes that don’t go with almost everything I already own.”
She flipped over the shoe she held and checked the price tag. “These are only two hundred dollars. That’s half the price of a pair of Manolos. They’re a bargain.”
“They look like I could click my heels three times and get back home to Kansas.”
“Oh, no, honey,” she said, shaking her head. “These are the shoes that get you out of Kansas. Go on, at least try them on.”
“You’re the one who likes them so much. You get them.”
“They’d make me look like the Jolly Green Giant. I’d tower over Philip.” Philip was her boyfriend, and the fact that she’d given up towering heels for him was a sure sign of true love. Philip also used to be a frog, but she didn’t know that. It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, there was more than a hint of weirdness to my life. “But Ethan’s really tall, and you’re not all that tall, so you could totally wear these.”
I could probably even wear them and still be shorter than a certain someone who wasn’t quite as tall as Ethan, but I’d promised myself I wasn’t going to think about him all weekend. “Gemma, I don’t think so. Not yet. This is only a second date. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, and those shoes scream ‘pulling out all the stops.’ I don’t want to give him that impression.”
“So we’re playing it cool?”
“Yeah, playing it cool. A strategy taught to me by a certain person named Gemma.”
With a deep sigh, she replaced the shoe on its display. I grabbed her arm to drag her to the escalators so we could look at clothes I could actually afford, but when I turned around, I saw something that made me do a double take: two women with wings looking at shoes in the adjacent boutique.
For most people, the wings would be the cause of the double take. That’s not something you see every day. But the fairies caught my eye because I knew them, and they didn’t strike me as the kind of people who shopped at Bloomingdale’s. I had them pegged as the type who wouldn’t think of buying anything north of Fourteenth Street.
I was trying to think of a way to get Gemma to another department, fast, when one of the fairies said, “Katie! What are you doing here?”
“I was about to ask you the same question,” I said, trying to keep my voice light and casual even as I glared at them. I was pretty sure Gemma couldn’t see that there was anything odd about them—other than that they were so obviously downtown girls who probably wouldn’t wear most of what was in that store—but I still wasn’t comfortable mingling my work life and my personal life.
I work for a company called Magic, Spells, and Illusions, Inc.—it’s kind of like a Microsoft for magic users, only not as into world domination. I’m not actually magical myself, but I have this strange immunity to magic and illusion, which in the magical world counts as sort of a superpower. I hadn’t yet shared this information with my nonmagical friends, who thought I was just another administrative assistant at a boring corporation.
“We’re out shopping,” said the taller fairy, whose name was Ari.
“Same here,” I said.
“Oh yeah, tonight’s the big date,” said the smaller fairy, whose name was Trix. “Getting something special to wear?”
“I’m trying to, without much luck.”
“Friends of yours?” Gemma asked.
Remembering my manners, I made introductions. “Gemma, this is Ari and Trix. We work together. And this is Gemma, my roommate and fashion consultant,” I said, watching Gemma’s reaction to the fairies. I wouldn’t have put it past Ari’s twisted sense of humor to let her magical veil drop so everyone could see her wings, just so I’d have to scramble for an explanation to Gemma.
Fortunately, Gemma didn’t seem to think anything was weird. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “Maybe you can offer a second opinion. Don’t you think Katie should at least try on these shoes?” She headed back toward the shoe boutique, and Ari and Trix followed.
“Katie can’t afford these shoes,” I said as I brought up the rear of the procession, irked at Gemma trying to get around my objections even as I was relieved that she hadn’t questioned why I was talking to people with wings.
“Oh, fabulous,” Trix breathed when Gemma held the sample shoe up for all to admire.
“Not your usual style,” Ari said while staring hungrily at the shoes. “But there’s nothing wrong with giving your image a little shake-up.”
“See?” Gemma gloated. “Just try them on.”
The three of them were practically drooling. Yeah, it was an eye-catching shoe, but I couldn’t imagine it changing my life. I mentally added this to the list of popular things I just didn’t get, along with George Clooney, designer-logo handbags, and reality television. As I watched them discussing the merits of the red shoes, I wondered once more what Ari and Trix were doing there. I had a very strong feeling they were following me. I shouldn’t have been surprised; it was barely a week since I’d played a crucial role in giving the competition a major setback, so I probably needed a magical bodyguard or two. But I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to face them when I was with a nonmagical friend. I could cope with fairies, people making coffee by flicking their wrists, and talking gargoyles at the office, but it still gave me a jolt when I saw those things in the “real” world when I was with people who weren’t in on the secret.
