Page 6 of Batty About You (Pine Ridge Universe #23)

Listen, if you’d grown up watching old Deborah Kerr and Dolores del Rio movies as a kid, you’d be dying for the big romantic moments, too.

“Giiiiiirl. You look like something out of a fantasy novel!” Cindy greets me as she swishes past in a tight black dress of figure-hugging Lycra and sequins.

Cathy is right on her heels, carrying a tray of pumpkin tarts and wearing a matching dress.

Cindy’s silvery blonde hair is in shining loose curls, while Cathy’s strawberry blonde hair is in an elegant twist.

I self-consciously fluff my flowing lilac and white skirt.

Layers of alternating white and purple settle around me, falling like a cloud.

“Thank you. I love it.” And I hope tonight is the beginning of a simple, homespun fantasy, just a happy little beginning that feels like the start of happily ever after. “You both look stunning.”

“Thank you.” Cindy runs her hands down the curves of her dress. Her hands sculpt her hips like she’s molding the dress on even more tightly. “My husband can’t keep his hands off of me, and I’m so okay with that.”

“Well, I can see why,” I smile, my eyes roving around the guests who have arrived early and are filling the grand foyer and the long hall leading to the ballroom. “Have you seen a man in a bat suit?”

“Batman? Three of them.” Cathy points towards the ballroom.

“Not Batman. Like a giant human-bat creature?”

Both women shake their heads. “Oh. He might be a little lost. He’s coming from out of town. Can I help with anything?” I ask.

“No! You’re a guest. We’re getting paid to look gorgeous and keep the trays filled,” Cindy laughs and waves me on.

At 8:00, he still hasn’t shown up. I worry that he’s lost in the mountains, or maybe he missed the exit for Pine Ridge and had to backtrack.

Why didn’t I meet him in some big, well-known town halfway between our homes for our first date?

I berate myself as I take cookies and canapés that I have no intention of eating until Bogdan is by my side.

At 8:15, I crack and call his phone. It rings until the oboe quartet begins, and then I leave a message, my voice tight around a lump that shouldn’t be there.

My best friend wouldn’t stand me up. Even if he got cold feet, he’d tell me. He loves me too much to not show up.

If he doesn’t love me that much, he at least loves me enough to text and say he’s too scared. I’d be sad, but I’d understand.

But at 8:30, there’s still no call, and I’ve stared with indecent intensity at every man in the glowing ballroom lit by chandeliers and candelabras.

At 9:00, I walk around outside and find several couples doing things they totally shouldn’t be doing outside of a locked bedroom, but they don’t notice me. I’m glad, because I’m crying now, and my mascara is making little puddles under my eyes.

Great. I’m a raccoon princess. He could be my bat prince. But he’s not here.

My stomach is in knots. If I tell people that I’ve never met him and we’ve been talking online, emailing, and texting, they’ll assume he’s just a jerk catfishing me.

They’ll tell me I’ve had a lucky escape, that he wouldn’t come to a big public event because he couldn’t prey on me in private like some horror movie serial killer.

Or they’ll tell me that I’m the dumb one, arranging to meet a stranger in a mask on Halloween.

But in my heart, only one phrase is playing on a loop.

Something happened to my Bogdan.

Do I call his mother? I have their address. I’m sure I can find her number somehow. She’ll panic. What if it’s just a flat tire?

A flat tire in one of these funny little mountain passes or valleys where the cell signal falls away for one mile and comes back the next.

Now, I picture my sweet, brave Bogdan trekking in the darkness of the steep, uneven mountains, trying to find a signal or help.

What if he finds the wrong kind of help?

Halloween hitchhiker stories suddenly imprint themselves on my brain, so evil and frightening that I can’t erase them from my mind.

“I have to go!” I gasp, speaking to no one in particular.

“What, honey?” Cathy is behind me on the terrace, a scalloped silver dish of delicious bonbons rolled in sparkling purple sugar and iced with white spiderwebs held out in front of her.

“Bogdan didn’t show up! He’s missing. He’s hurt, something horrible has happened to him,” I babble, fists balled at my side so I don’t grab her arms in my desperation and make her drop all of those pretty confections. “I know you must think I’m crazy, but—”

“No, no. I don’t think you’re crazy. He probably just got turned around up here. Did he come up I-81?”

I nod, swallowing hard.

“Here, why don’t you take some nice deep breaths and walk with me to the catering van for some more cocktail napkins?

” Cathy advises in a soothing, motherly tone, as if I’m one of her frightened students on the first day of school.

“You can get out of the noisy ballroom and give him another call. Maybe he’s got signal by now.

If he doesn’t answer, we’ll start by calling the police department.

I’m pretty sure Ardy Walsh, a local cop, is here at the party.

I’ll see if I can find him. He’ll know what to do.

” Cathy waves at Diana Stilz, one of the waitresses at the coffee shop.

She’s not supposed to be helping with the catering, but she’s here at the party, dressed as a princess, and her sexy husband is a bard with a lute across his chest.

“Hey! What’s up?” Diana’s vivacious smile falters when she sees my tear-stained face. “You work with Cindy and Cathy, don’t you?” she asks, hands already reaching for the tray Cathy’s passing over.

“She needs some help. Can you pass those out while I get more napkins? I know you’re not working tonight, but—”

Whatever Cathy was going to say isn’t even necessary. Diana nods firmly and starts serving.

“This is such a nice place. And the party is so good,” I half-whimper, trying to take calm breaths.

I look around, eyes filmed with tears, and see some truly amazing costumes.

Cindy’s husband is some sort of mothman.

Gloria White, the hostess, has some super pale makeup on that almost makes her look see-through.

I swear one guy has tentacles that move when he walks, and multiple men have red contacts in that glow like rubies. “I think Bogdan would have loved this.”

“And he still will, even if he’s an hour late and has sore feet when he gets here, or greasy hands from changing a flat.

Stop the chaos fantasy in your head. We always think the worst, and it’s almost never the case.

” Cathy puts a comforting arm around me and guides me outside to the catering van.

“I think I’ll take in a couple more boxes of the wooden cocktail skewers, too.

People are eating like they forgot breakfast and lunch,” Cathy laughs, unlocking the rear doors as I stand sniffling behind her, fumbling with my phone.

I call Bogdan again—and a sudden flicker of bright light in the dark spooks me. I look past the van and—

“Cathy!” I screech, running in the gravel to the beat-up car hidden beside the van and the very edge of the parking area. “Boggie’s car! It’s here!” It is here, and his phone is on the dashboard, glowing as it buzzes and rings.

But he’s not here.

“Oh, God. What... What does this mean?” I put my hands to my temples. I can’t think when I panic, and I need to think.

“Well. He got here safely. But he’s not at the party—not that you’ve seen. He could have...” Cathy shakes her head, searching for words as she clutches napkins and skewers to her ample bosom in its low-cut gown.

I nod, but I’m not listening fully.

If he got here safely, but got here before me, what would Bogdan do?

Think like him. You know him better than anyone else, even his parents. He tells you things he’d never tell anyone else. You know his hopes. His dreams. His fears.

“He could be inside. He might have had some kind of fainting spell or hit his head in the bathroom. I’ll get a few of the guys to check the bathrooms in the house. Or maybe he got locked in another room, somehow. I’ll get Wesley and Gloria White-Creighton to check the rooms!” Cathy volunteers.

I nod slowly. “I wonder... I wonder if, when he drove up here, he saw the college campus—and realized my apartment was right across the river. You can cross it on the footpath, you know?”

“I know! Cindy used to live there,” Cathy nods. “Do you think he went towards your apartment?”

“All I know is that we were both so excited and so nervous to finally meet. I’ll tell you more later.

I just wonder if he thought he’d walk the places where I walk.

Stop at the River House where I work, even if it’s closed tonight.

Just because... Just because he’s a lovestruck fool like me.

You know, his family lives in New Jersey, and mine lived in Maine when we first met.

Every time I went to the ocean, I’d throw a shell into it and tell it to go find Bogdan on another beach,” I whisper, wiping my eyes.

“Oooh. Honey, you have it so bad. I envy you. Want me to come help you look for him on foot?”

“I need a flashlight and some sneakers. While the men search the house, I’m going to go home and change. If I find him on the way, I’ll call you right away,” I promise.

“All right, and if we find him here, we’ll call you.”