Thirty-One
Tora leans forward and rests her elbows on her desk and her chin on her hands. “And as I walked in, hundreds of butterflies rose off the table and fluttered away, leaving the most amazing arrangement of flowers on the middle of the table.”
I clasp my hands together beneath my chin. “That’s so romantic, Tora.” Not as romantic as a magic carpet ride and a gazillion glow-bugs, but not every guy can pull off something that epic.
“And the food was glorious.” Tora tips her head back and leans it against the cabinet behind her desk. “He sure can cook.”
“Thank goodness for that.” I think of Tora’s abysmal cooking skills. You’d think that possessing magical abilities would allow her to do a mediocre cooking job, at the very least, but no. “He sounds perfect for you. Do you think he’s
