There was a woman in a frothy, pink-tulle dress and elaborate mask dancing in the center of the room. She looked like Glinda from Wicked. Several women dressed as pixies with glittery wings flitted past me. My smile widened. I had to find a way to convince Ambrose Langston to keep the Mountain Masquerade running.

The band was playing an upbeat tune, and the crowd was dancing. My staff moved through the guests with trays of drinks. I saw one of our new servers, Charity, chatting with a young, male guest. My gaze narrowed. She was busy flirting and not handing out drinks.

Sensing my scrutiny, the young woman turned, spotted me, and stiffened. A beat later, she hurried along.

Excellent. I glanced at my watch. Just a few more minutes and I’d be off duty. The crowd parted. My gaze zeroed in on a man standing at the edge of the room and I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t seen him before.

He was surveying the room like he owned it. I guessed he was about six feet tall, and his black tuxedo clung to his fit, lean frame. He wore a bronze mask on his face. Oh, it was the expensive one from the gift shop. I’d admired it earlier.

The crowd shifted and I lost sight of him.

“There you are.”

I spun and saw Sierra, Jazz, and Allie. They’d all attended this evening, not as staff but as guests. Sierra wore a short, green dress that made her look like Tinkerbell, and a gold mask. Jazz was wearing blush pink, and a matching mask with lots of sequins. Allie wore a silky, bronze dress, and a feathered, black mask. The dress showed off the long lines of her body. It occurred to me that she’d lost weight lately. I needed to have a little talk with her; find out what was going on. Still, her legs looked like a million bucks. Long legs I’d always dreamed about possessing.

“Are you all having fun?” I asked.

“Yes,” Sierra said. “And now you will, too.”

“I need to check on⁠—”

“No,” Jazz announced. “Ethan took over. It’s after midnight and you’re off the clock.”

Ethan was our night manager. His wife was an ER nurse who worked the night shift at the local hospital. He liked working nights, so they were on the same schedule.

My three friends bustled around me.

Jazz pulled a bundle of tulle from behind her back. She held it up and I realized it was a detachable, black skirt. She fitted it around my waist.

“What—?”

“Shush.” Allie whipped my staff mask off.

Sierra held up an ornate, silver one. It was intricate and pretty. She pressed it to my face and pulled the elastic around. Then she yanked my hair out of its sensible twist. Black strands fell everywhere. I barely ever wore it down because it always got in my way.

“Hey.”