Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
Kass never replied.
Dani told herself that silence was exactly what she’d anticipated, that she hadn’t been hoping for anything more.
But that was a lie. Her most elaborate fantasy involved Kass showing up at Quarter Cast and telling her that of course he understood, of course he forgave her, then kissing her dramatically as everyone in the café applauded.
What actually happened was that the earth kept turning. Her teachers still expected her to come to class after the day off for Thanksgiving and submit her assignments on time. Customers ordered just as much coffee as they ever had and thought it should be up to the same standards.
Somehow, Dani obliged them all. Katya had been right about one thing—while her letter to Kass certainly hadn’t healed the gaping wound in her heart, it at least assured her that she’d done what she could do, which made her a passably functional human being once again.
She spent the rest of the week focusing on school and work, and in between, hanging out with McKenna and Oliver, who knew that Dani’s budding relationship had ended poorly, but not with whom it had been—true to his word, Wyatt had so far kept her secret to himself.
Her only task for Silva that week was to show up at the boutique where the professor had booked an appointment for her and McKenna.
Dani spent Saturday morning at the library, then headed off campus to meet her best friend at the store.
She walked past Quarter Cast and deeper into the city until she reached the massive shop, which turned out to be the kind that served prosecco and wafer-thin cookies to nibble on while browsing their selection of thousand-dollar dresses and suits.
Dani had not yet worked up the courage to go inside, gawking instead at the storefront populated with a selection of enchanting—and likely enchanted—wedding gowns, when McKenna came up and ambushed her with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, babe,” she said. “You nervous?”
“A bit. I’ve never been inside somewhere like this,” Dani said. “But I guess if we want to look the part, we’ve got to dress the part, right?”
“Exactly. Think of it as an adventure, or better yet, an anthropological inquiry.”
McKenna held out her arm, and Dani looped hers through, grateful for the familiarity of the gesture, and for the fact that she didn’t have to make a grand entrance on her own.
As they passed through the doors and into the impressive foyer, she ogled the crystal chandeliers that glittered overhead and the bewitched piano playing Satie without anyone at the keys.
One of the salespeople approached them swiftly: an elegant, salt-haired older man in a burgundy suit that looked a little like pajamas to Dani.
“May I help you?” he asked, his plastic smile betraying his suspicion that they did not at all belong here.
McKenna’s hackles went up immediately. “I would certainly hope so.” Dani sensed her roommate sliding into high fae mode, her usual go-to when someone had slighted her. “We have an appointment at two o’clock to be fitted for ball gowns—perhaps under the last name Silva?”
Once the salesman checked his quartzpad, his entire demeanor changed, frostiness melting into smarmy pandering.
“Of course,” he said. “Welcome to Wickman’s. My name is Emmanuel, and I’ll be your design advisor for the day. Is this your first time shopping with us, mademoiselles?”
“Indeed,” McKenna said.
“Wonderful, wonderful, then I’ll give you the run-through, shall I?
” McKenna gave him the go-ahead, and he launched into his introductory spiel.
“Here at Wickman’s, we have a unique method of matching the person to the perfect piece,” he said.
“You won’t be spending hours combing over endless racks of clothing or answering a generic personality quiz. ”
Dani stitched on a polite expression and let Emmanuel’s words wash over her.
He explained the store’s “system of enchanting the ensemble” in a series of unnecessarily complicated and heavily French-leaning words.
She came out on the other side of his lecture with no clue what was about to happen to her.
McKenna, on the other hand, was eating it up, positively lit with excitement as she asked questions that started with “as a designer myself,” and despite all the stress and the sadness she’d been through the last few weeks, Dani couldn’t help but smile.
It was good to see her friend so truly in her element.
They stuck close to Emmanuel’s side as he led them onto the boutique floor, which was strangely bereft of any articles of clothing, apart from the ones on display in the windows.
There were a dozen mirrored daises around the room, a few already inhabited by customers admiring themselves in full regalia, and plush couches from which voyeurs could yea or nay outfits at their champagned leisure.
A few floating tables moved about the room to present a small but lustrous sample of accessories for shoppers to browse.
Apart from that, the floor was almost spartan, though it still managed to send the message of wealth and pampering in every choice of material and interior design.
“Can I bring either of you a refreshment while you’re here?” Emmanuel asked, gesturing for them to make themselves at home on the sofa he’d led them to. Dani’s butt sank deep into the cushion when she sat. “Water, club soda, champagne?”
“Champagne for both of us, please,” McKenna said. She chose not to take a seat, instead pacing half-moons around the dais like a turkey circling a dead animal. “And whatever hors d’oeuvres you have on offer for the day.”
“Of course,” Emmanuel said without a wrinkle in his tone. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”
As soon as he was gone, McKenna whirled around to look at Dani, her eyes alight. “This is so cool. It’s exactly the kind of place I hope might sell my designs someday.”
“I could definitely see that,” Dani said.
After a moment, Emmanuel returned with a tray of champagne flutes and crudités.
“Oh, wonderful, thank you so much,” McKenna said, taking it upon herself to pass the champagne to Dani like she was the host and not Emmanuel.
He didn’t seem fussed by her behavior; he had likely seen far worse in the retail trenches.
“So,” he said. “Who would like to go first?”
“Dani,” McKenna said at once.
“Why me?” Dani protested. At McKenna’s glare, she set down her flute and clawed her way out of the sinkhole of the couch. “What do I do?”
“Just step up on the platform,” Emmanuel said. “The mirror will do the rest.”
The edge of Dani’s boot caught on the top step and nearly sent her sprawling across the dais, but something caught her at the last second: an unseen force field supporting her from all sides.
Its magnetism drew her toward the center of the platform and held her there, suspended, boots dangling a few inches off the floor.
She could hear McKenna’s sounds of wonder coming from behind her, but the mirrors showed nothing of the store in the background, only her own luminous figure against an umbral landscape.
As she hovered, the force field slowly began to turn her in place, until she had made a single full rotation and could glimpse herself in the mirror once more.
Light haloed her, rising from her feet to her head, until it had concealed her whole body, which was tingling madly at this point, behind a radiant golden shield.
“Don’t be alarmed,” came Emmanuel’s voice from somewhere far away. “It’s calculating the perfect outfit for you based on your physical attributes and detectable personality traits, as well as what I’ve already input into our system about the occasion you need it for.”
Dani was a little alarmed, truth be told, yet there wasn’t much to do but let the enchantment have its way with her. After a few more seconds of tingling, the sheath of light began to dissolve into raiment, and as its glow faded she saw the gown it had chosen—designed?—for her.
A full black ball gown skirt swept the floor, her arms left bare and collarbones accentuated by the slight scoop neck.
A slender panel of mesh cut like a blade from her neck to her waist, and a purple sheen in the skirts glimmered when it caught the light just so.
All things said and done, the dress was subtle in its details, but it made her look like a goth Cinderella, the lightest purple in her hair bright against the black.
She realized suddenly that the manufactured dusk had evaporated. McKenna, visible in the mirror once more, was predictably fawning over the results.
“Dani, you look ravishing. Doesn’t she look ravishing?” she asked Emmanuel with an air of menace.
“It suits you,” Emmanuel agreed.
Dani clasped her hands beneath her chin, overcome with emotion. She felt both unexpectedly at ease and beautiful in the gown, like an oracle emerging from a December twilight—but also more than a little forlorn.
“Your system is fascinating,” McKenna said. “How does it work, exactly? Do you have a collection of designs that the enchantment randomizes, or is it truly bespoke?”
“I’m afraid that information is classified,” Emmanuel said, “but we do have a catalog you can browse of our renowned designers.”
“Hmph. Yes, I’ll have a look once we’re done,” McKenna said. Her disgruntled expression eased into a smile when she looked at Dani again. “In any case, the dress is perfect on her.”
“It is indeed,” Emmanuel said, addressing Dani. “Are you satisfied?”
Dani dropped her hands from underneath her chin. “Would it be possible to add some gloves?”
“As in opera gloves? Absolutely. I’ll make a note of it.” Emmanuel offered a hand to help her from the dais. As soon as she stepped down, the dress melted away, leaving behind her street clothes, which seemed plain and boring in comparison.