Mr. Hatter and his friend stopped before a house with the words W. Rabbit on the nameplate in the grass out front. It had a thatched roof like the March Hare’s house, kitschy but without the ears.
“In here,” Mr. Hatter said, leading the way around the back. He ambled along a series of steppingstones veering to a misshapen door with a fat knob and a tiny keyhole. Mr. Hatter rested his thumb on a portion of the windowsill. A beep sounded, a small green light flashed, and he turned the too-big knob to enter.
Adelie and Suzie exchanged a look. She would never have guessed the door would open at all, let alone lead into what appeared to be the back end of a prestigious office.
The interior was completely different from the park’s exaggerated details. This was plain and stuffy, devoid of pictures on the walls or anything to add contrast apart from speckled linoleum beneath their feet and the blinds covering the windows.
“My office is just through here,” Mr. Hatter said. He slowed his pace to match Adelie and Suzie’s and led the way down the short hall. Where did this lead out to? She wished she’d paid more attention to the house’s surroundings.
“Did you ladies enjoy your time at the park today?” he asked.
“Are you kidding?” Suzie responded. “It was amazing. The rides, the crowd, the rush. Seriously, we’ve had the best day.”
Mr. Hatter smiled at her as they rounded a corner, but his eyes moved toward Adelie. She was used to Suzie soaking up attention from men. It’d been that way for as long as she could remember. And though Suzie had a great boyfriend right now, Mr. Hatter wouldn’t know as much.
At this point, when they’d meet men the first time, most guys would keep their attention on Suzie for the remainder of the conversation. Not Mr. Hatter. His interest deepened as it landed on Adelie. She couldn’t help but sizzle under the impact.
“And you, my winner? What did you think?”
His winner. She’d never been a man’s anything. Adelie chided herself. She really needed to stop acting as though he had any interest in her aside from being a participant, and winner, today.
Multiple answers strung through Adelie’s mind. She settled on the least confusing one. “I think everything was unexpected.”
“Unexpected?” His brows lifted. “That’s a substantial word.”
Substantial? Adelie thought it over. That could be taken in a few different ways, she supposed. She decided to clear whatever confusion he had.
“I meant it in a good way,” she said. Too good. The words fifty-thousand dollars continued to trumpet in her mind.
They turned another corner and approached a receptionist sitting at the desk. She gave them an acknowledging nod. Mr. Hatter tapped the desk in greeting before leading the way to an office.
The space was bright, professional, and squared. Squared room, squared-off black, leather chairs, even the pots holding plants along the window were square. Still, it was comfortable, as much as an office could be.
“Please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a pair of armless, leather chairs.
Suzie took the farthest one with so much exuberance it slid from its place on the floor. “Whoops,” she said sheepishly, scooting it back into place.
Adelie sank into the seat next to her. Mr. Hatter sat in his seat and the other man, in jeans and a button-up shirt beneath a zipped-up jacket, rested his weight against the bar off to the side.
“This is my associate, Duncan Hawthorne,” Mr. Hatter said.
Mr. Hawthorne gave a small wave.
“I want to formally congratulate you, Miss Carroll,” Mr. Hatter said.
Away from the crowds and the pressure of the moment, the pieces began to click together. Her breathing came easier, and her thoughts seemed to be less scrambled. “That’s why you were there at the tea table,” Adelie said. “You were waiting for someone to figure it out.”
“I’d been wandering around March Hare’s house all day,” he said.
“So?” Suzie piped in, her eyes darting from one man to the other. “Fifty-thousand dollars?”
CHAPTER SIX
“Suz.” Adelie dipped her head in embarrassment. Her sister had many childlike qualities, but this lack of filter—or apparent lack of any tact whatsoever—left something to be desired.
Mr. Hatter chuckled and stood from his seat, coming around to slump against the front of his desk. “Yes. About that. How would you feel about a different offer, Miss—can I call you Adelie?”
“Sure,” Adelie said, fighting the sinking in her chest. “And what do you mean, a different offer?”
He slid a look to Mr. Hawthorne, who inclined his head with insistence.
“Wonderland’s brand is ready for a new look,” Mr. Hatter said. “And I think it’s you.”
“What’s me?”
“For the rebrand. New logo. New signs for every ride. New brochures, new maps. I need a girl to be the face for that. It’s you. I need you to be my Alice.”
“Your—Alice?”
Suzie’s feet drummed on the carpet.
Adelie’s brows crunched. “Why? I mean, why me?”
“I need investors to keep the park’s momentum going,” Mr. Hatter said. “After you found Pierre, my friend, Duncan, here saw you talking to the news crew. He pulled me aside and agreed with me. It has to be you.”
“It’s true,” Duncan said. “With your face, your innocent demeanor and your hesitation to accept any attention, you’re the perfect candidate.”
A tingling swept up the back of her neck. Heat bombarded her cheeks. How could he be that perceptive? “What do you mean the perfect candidate?”
Mr. Hatter reached for something on the desk behind him and held it toward her. Enlarged to at least fourteen by twenty in size, matted on black foam board, was what appeared to be an image from the original Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It was a penciled sketch of a young
