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A small bar is set up in the corner of the room. Servers carrying trays of appetizers pop in and out of the crowd as people mingle before the show. Making good on his promise for bringing me here, Roman interrupts three women fanning themselves, talking about how disappointed they are to be missing the evening weather report. He cuts into their conversation with an easy grin.

“Ladies, I’d like to introduce you to my new assistant,” he says. “Kira’s going to be helping me plan this year’s Phantom Festival.”

The three women turn in unison, wearing matching smiles. “Oh, my goodness. Are you Kira Blakely? As in Demonatrix?”

“That’s me,” I say, with a nod.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” the tallest of the women says. “I’m Hazel. This is Paige.” She nods toward the woman on her left. “And that’s Lucy.” She gestures to the woman on her right.

“These three own Bookstore, Coffee Shop, and Bakery,” Roman explains.

I shake each of their hands as they tell me how beautiful I am and how excited they are to have me helping with the festival.

After a few moments, I feel Roman’s hand settle against the small of my back as he says his goodbyes and leads me away.

His voice is a low whisper in my ear. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I roll my eyes at his patronizing words, feeling us slip back into our easy, playful dynamic.

“All right, you got me.” I raise my hands. “They were really nice.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he was right. Everyone I’ve met so far has been nothing but pleasant.

His lips twitch into a smug grin. “I told you there isn’t anything to worry about.”

The terrifying thing is, I’m actually starting to believe that.

I don’t get so much as a second glance as we weave through the crowd and make our way backstage, where a beautiful silver-haired woman is animatedly talking to a tall, silver-haired man who bears a striking resemblance to Roman.

“There you are!” the woman says, pulling Roman into a hug. “And who might this beautiful lady be?”

Roman steps aside and gestures back and forth between us. “Mom, Dad, this is Kira. She’s my new assistant I was telling you about.”

Wait…he told his parents about me?

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley⁠—”

“Oh, please, call me Mary,” the woman says, waving me off. “And this is Frank.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you both,” I say, and I mean it. I’m already smiling like an idiot.

There’s something contagious about the joy radiating from her.

She glances between us for a moment, then directs her attention to Roman as she says, “Seems like we’ve got some catching up to do.” Then spins back to face me. “It’s nice to meet you, Kira. I’d ask you how exactly you came to be my son’s assistant, but I’m afraid we’ll have to save that story for another time.”

I don’t know what type of reaction I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. My celebrity status may as well be an afterthought. I think she’s more annoyed to be left out of the loop than starstruck.

“Congratulations on your debut,” I say, taking in the controlled chaos around us as people shuffle between hair and makeup, halfway dressed in their costumes. “Pulling something like this off is no easy feat, but you look like you’ve been doing this for years.”

“Thank you, honey. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” Mary glances around, taking it all in. “I’ve always dreamed about producing a play, and I’m so excited to finally check it off my bucket list.”

No sooner are the words out of her mouth than a short-haired woman appears at her elbow, whispering something in her ear.

Mary’s smile falls.

“What’s wrong?” Roman and Frank both ask at the same time.

She presses her lips into a flat line. “We seem to have found ourselves in a bit of a pickle.”