Once Upon a Date - Susan Hatler Page 0,2

time. Dance a few times and please don’t worry about me,” I said, relieved to have some private time to hide in a dark corner with my laptop. “You’ve done your duty. I’m out of the house. Now go have fun.”

“Okay, sweetie. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

“Say hi to Jill for me,” I said, nodding at her as she walked away. Another reason I wanted to find a chair was because my black stilettos were already pinching my feet. I scanned the room for somewhere to sit and spotted a cocktail table with chairs against the far wall, which looked vacant apart from a deserted champagne flute. Jackpot. That table was so mine.

I hurried around the edge of the dance floor, wincing in pain with each step. It had been a mistake to wear brand new heels, but Krista had taken me shopping at Shapely Shoes earlier (also to cheer me up), and insisted on buying them for me as a thank you for agreeing to be her plus-one tonight after her latest relationship ended abruptly via text messaging. I hadn’t seen them working out anyway, but who was I to judge? I hadn’t had a decent date in over a year.

Once I reached the table, I set my bag down and looked around the opulent ballroom, taking everything in. The decor was impressive. Round tables circled the dance floor, each one covered in a gold damask tablecloth and set with chairs, their high backs intricately carved. Marble floors stretched across the ballroom from wall to wall and the edge of the wooden dance floor had a beautiful gold fleur-de-lis pattern.

The dance floor was filled with masked guests letting loose and shaking their hips. I spotted Krista with Jill getting down to the music with a group of masked ladies on the far side of the floor. She caught my eye and I waved to her, gesturing to the table. She nodded and blew me a kiss.

I sat down gratefully and pulled out my laptop, moving the half-empty—or half-full, I supposed, if one hadn’t had the day I had—vacated champagne flute to the other side of the table. Kicking my heels off under the chair, I sighed with relief and opened my computer.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like wearing high heels. In fact, the pair Krista had bought me were gorgeous. My feet just weren’t used to wearing them since I didn’t have the money to buy elegant heels like this. I spent most of my time in yoga pants, oversized sweaters, and fluffy socks. They hadn’t dubbed people like me starving artists for nothing.

I typed in my password and as I waited for my emails to load, I looked around me. The mood was upbeat. If I wasn’t so stressed about rebounding from my manuscript rejection, I would likely have been enjoying time on the dance floor with Krista.

Long, slender icicle-type decorations hung from the ceiling, and I smiled to myself since they reminded me of my favorite childhood book, The Snow Queen. It was also incredible seeing all the beautiful masks, which made these elegant guests unrecognizable. Anonymity was fine by me right now, because it meant I could send out my manuscript in peace. After about ten minutes, I’d already sent out five queries. Yay, me! Take that Prince & Company.

“Excuse me,” a husky male voice said, interrupting my thoughts and pulling me out of my entranced work haze.

My eyes locked onto a black tuxedoed arm that reached across the table and retrieved the champagne flute I’d moved.

“Oh, sorry . . .” My gaze followed the crisp white cuff peeping out below the black sleeve and the smell of designer cologne reached my nose and I breathed in the heady scent. Yum.

I lifted my eyelashes and my breath caught in my throat as I gazed into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, which were twinkling behind a black satin mask. The mystery man’s lips were full and the thought of kissing him sprang unwittingly into my mind.

My cheeks heated. Get a grip, Michelle.

In a slow and deliberate move, he held out a hand. “Would you care to dance, Cinderella?”

Me? Dance? Oh, yes. . .

No, wait. I bit my bottom lip. I didn’t want to dance at all.

I had a plan . . . a plan to send my manuscript to every last publisher on my list to shed some light on this dark day of rejection. I waited for the words to come from