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Orna doesn’t look up from the agony aunt pages of the magazine. “The Tunnels, I’m guessing. Woah, check out this question:Dear Dierdry, my partner insists that I only wear white panties, but I enjoy wearing bright neon thongs—”
“The Tunnels?” I interject. “What’s that?”
She shrugs. “A whole network of tunnels under the city. It’s where they interrogate.”
The way she says it so casually makes me feel a little ill. When I’m curled up in Lorcan’s arms, it’s so easy to forget what a violent man he is. Even though I’ve seen it firsthand.
I sink back into the sofa. “Uh, I don’t know if you were meant to tell me that.”
Another shrug as she turns her attention back to the thong issue. “You’re Lorcan’s girlfriend. You’ll find out eventually.”
My ears go hot and there’s a strange ringing in them. “I’m not his girlfriend!” I reply acidly. It’s not lost on me that I sound like a school girl denying a crush on her teacher.
Orna does nothing but let out an easy laugh. “Please. You’re in love with each other, and even if it’s a bit weird, because well, you know, he drugged and kidnapped you to get you here, I’m still behind it.” She cocks her head and chews her cheek. “Pooran. Loppy. Hmm, no, a celebrity couple name won’t work for you guys, I’m afraid.”
I’m pinned to the sofa, stunned. When I don’t reply, she pats my thigh. “Look, I grew up a Quinn, okay? I’ve seen enough crazy in my time, believe me. There are stranger ways to fall in love. I’m here for it. Especially because you seem to be cracking his cold, dead heart.” She pretends to shiver. “Hell, if you stick around he might even let me go back to school. Or at least give me a raise. I’ll settle for a raise. Oh, shoot,” she slaps her hand against her head. “I forgot to tell you something important.”
Despite the embarrassment flushing my cheeks, my ears prick up. “What?”
“I was meant to tell you Lorcan’s taking you for dinner atGatsby’s.”
“Huh? When?”
She grimaces. “Tonight, seven p.m. Sorry, it completely slipped my mind—”
“Tonight?” I yelp, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Like, in an hour?”
“Yeah, yeah” she gathers up the magazine and gets to her feet, pulling me up with her. “Come on, I’ll help you get ready.”
“I haven’t even washed my hair!”
“See,” she grins, stabbing an accusatory finger at me as we stride through the halls, “I told you that you loved him. Remember when you first got here? You wouldn’t even eat in the hope it’d piss him off. Now you’re dining on caviar and throwing on Oscar De La Renta dresses while you’re at it.”
I throw back my head and laugh. Actually, I feel a little delirious at the thought of going on a date. He said, didn’t he? That when this all blows over, he’ll take me on a proper date. Well, maybe that’s why he was acting so strange the other night. The war is over. That date is finally happening.
We stand shoulder to shoulder, staring at the contents of my closet. Orna tugs out something gold and shimmery. “How about this?”
I run my hand over the Naeem Khan dress and sigh. The silk fabric is covered with a layer of swishy beads and crystals, just like a 1920‘s flapper girl dress. “Very apt forGatsby’s. Is it a little over the top though?”
We settle on teaming it with a black boyfriend blazer and chunky boots so I don’t feel too overdressed. Orna helps me slick my waves into a low ponytail, and I add hoops and a lick of bold red lipstick to round off the look.
“Stunning,” Orna says, twirling me around in front of the mirror. We lock eyes in the reflection, and a sudden pang of guilt stabs my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
She frowns. “For what?”
“What my father did to your mom. I didn’t know. Lorcan only told me a few days ago—”
“Don’t,” she says, shaking the memory out of her head. “You shouldn’t ever feel like you have to apologize for your father. You weren’t even born. I’m the one who should apologize for ignoring you for so long over it.”
“You already did.”
“I know but I never really addressed it. Just kinda skirted around the issue and brushed it under the carpet. But I guess now you know who your father truly was, I can apologize properly.”
I throw my arms around her, breathing in the scent of laundry and floral perfume. “Thanks, Orna.”
“No, thank you,” she says into the shoulder of my blazer. “I’ve really enjoyed having you here. You won’t believe how boring it gets only having your sisters for company.”
