Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.
Even if they’d never met yet. If she didn’t reject her at the door.
She turned the moonstone bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The white of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker. Taking a deep breath to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, she hung her keys from the strap of her tiny shoulder bag, and pushed away from her car.
Waiting would only make her more nervous. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, squared them, and marched up the driveway. Another deep breath to steady herself, and she pushed the doorbell to Allison Argent’s house.
“Hi,” she said softly, when she opened the door.
Allison was in the middle of getting ready for the party at Lydia’s when she heard a car pull up at her house. Everything but her hair was done, and that would take a little while to finish. She put down the curling wand in her hand and walked down the stairs. She couldn’t wait for tonight. For two reasons, the party and the fact that she would meet her secret admirer.
The huntress was in such a good mood that she caught herself skipping towards the door. She stopped midway, and slowed herself down. As soon as she was less than a foot away she stretched out her hand towards the knob. She turned the handle when she felt the cool brass against her skin and opened the door.
“Hello. Can I help you?” she asked the stranger at the door. She was about to ask her name when she noticed the moonstone jewelry that matched the stone on the box and the fiery red hair.
“Are you the one who was leaving me notes?”
Summer almost couldn’t reply. The butterflies seemed to crawl up her throat, choking her. She ducked her head, flushing, and gulped in another breath. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I … wasn’t sure how to approach you. You liked it?”
She wanted to reach out and touch Allison, to make sure this was real. Touch with hands, touch with mind, just touch. She held herself tightly in rein, though, desperate not to seem frightening or, well, desperate. She didn’t want to cheat her way into this.