Page 63 of Devoured By the Forbidden Mountain Man

The past month had trained me to expect every conversation about work to arrive with sympathy I didn’t want or advice I hadn’t requested. Case gave me neither.

I looked out over the dining room. The orange lights were brighter now beneath the darkening afternoon sky, and the jack-o’-lanterns along the windows were waiting for someone to light them before dusk.

“I missed this,” I admitted.

Rex’s knee rested against mine beneath the bar. He didn’t tell me he already knew.

Case’s expression softened for only a moment before he glanced at my sweater and changed the subject.

“Speaking of tonight, what exactly are you planning to wear?”

I looked down at myself. “Not this, but I didn’t realize employment at the Lantern House came with wardrobe requirements until after I agreed to help.”

“It doesn’t. Being my best friend does.” Case looked pleased with himself. “You were recruited into this mess two days ago, so I assumed you didn’t have a Halloween costume hiding upstairs.”

I laughed and finished another bite of pasta.

Case had spent enough years working Halloween events to accumulate pieces from costumes that had been purchased for staff, decorations, photo areas, and abandoned theme ideas. Once we finished eating, he took me to the storage room near the back office where he had pulled out the few options that could survive an actual restaurant shift.

That qualification eliminated more than I expected.

One costume involved a long black skirt I would have stepped on before the first hour ended. Another came with a hat wide enough to knock drinks off a tray if I turned too fast. A sequined dress looked great until I moved my arms and felt the fabric catch beneath them.

The last option hanging against the end of the rack was red, black, and gold.

I took the dress off the hanger and held it against myself. The skirt was short enough to stay clear of my boots but long enough that I could bend over without becoming part of the entertainment. The fitted bodice had enough stretch to let me move, and the black-and-red panels made the theme obvious without requiring a mask.

Case lifted a small gold crown from a plastic bin. “Queen of Hearts.”

I took the crown and set it lightly on my head. It was ridiculous enough to be Halloween and small enough that I could remove it the first time it became annoying.

“I can see around it, walk in boots, carry trays if somebody needs help, and get through a doorway without turning sideways.”

Case pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “The romance with which you approach costuming is breathtaking.”

“I’m working.”

“You can work and be hot.”

I looked at myself in the narrow storage-room mirror again.

The costume had shape without trapping me inside it, and with stronger makeup, my own earrings, and the little crown, nobody would have to ask what I was supposed to be.

“I’ll take it. I chose it because I can work in it.”

Case beamed. “Excellent. I’m going to let you keep believing that’s the only reason.”

I hung the dress carefully on the outside of the rack for later.

When I turned, Rex was standing in the open doorway with a dark duffel in one hand.

Case looked from the bag to him. “Please tell me those are the black clothes you promised.”

Rex lifted the duffel slightly. “Shirt, trousers, vest, boots.”

Case nodded with professional approval. “I can work with that.”

Rex’s expression suggested he still wasn’t entirely sure how his attendance at a meeting involving an active warrant had ended with Case Wilkins styling him for Halloween.