L. Marie Adeline- S.E.C.R.E.T

happy to see this.”
“Yours, maybe,” Will said, tipping his Huck hat. “Cassie, I’ll see you at work
tomorrow.”
I watched him walk right past Tracina and out the door.
“So, Cassie Robichaud, not from Mandeville. Where were we?”
“Funnily enough I live on Mandeville Street in Marigny, but I’m from Michigan. But
it’s a French name from my dad’s side. But I’m not sure really about its origins …”
You’re talking too much, Cassie!
“Right. I’ll be sure to stop by the booth to make a donation before I leave,” he said,
bowing slightly.
Rich, powerful people didn’t easily dazzle me, but this man had charisma.
Suddenly, Tracina was eager to volunteer. “I’ll take over from here,” she said, ducking
behind the booth. “Will left, so I can stay and help. You can go home now. Besides, you
don’t have a costume.”
“Did you know Will knew him?” I asked.
“They’re childhood friends.”
“I see. Okay, then. Um, I guess it’s time for me to leave.”
“Yes, run really fast,” she said, not looking at me, watching Pierre take a seat near the
front of the room.
The bachelorette auction would soon be under way. I looked down at my outt.
Tracina had been right all along. I was just the scullery maid. Now that the dishes were
done, it was time to go. I made my way through the lobby, looking for Will. Instead I
spotted Matilda talking on a cell phone, heading straight for me. She said goodbye to
whomever she was speaking with and snapped the phone shut. That’s when I noticed
her costume, a stunning mermaid dress covered in emerald sequins, a small crown
perched on her head.
“Cassie! Wait! Where are you going?”
“I nished my shift at the donation booth. I’m going home. Thanks by the way for the
donation. It was very gen—”
“No, you’re not going home,” she said, grabbing me by the arm, turning me around
and trotting me towards a door marked PRIVATE. “I realize we’ve kept this well under
wraps, but tonight is … well, it’s your special night, Cassie.”
“Tonight?” I said, realizing with a shock that she meant she had a fantasy in store for
me. “But I’m wearing—”
“Don’t worry. Help is on the way.”
She waved a card at a small white security box on the wall and a door clicked open.
Inside was a cozy dressing room where Amani and another woman I vaguely recognized
were perched on silk-covered stools. They stood when we entered, agitation on their
faces. To their left was a dressing table with a mirror framed by lightbulbs, makeup
carefully organized on a white towel. Hanging on a rack nearby was a beautiful pale
pink dress that hung to the oor. I wasn’t really a girly-girl, but this satiny ball gown
tickled something very ancient in my DNA. Beneath it was a pair of stunning sparkly