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I glance at Alfie, who smiles back at me.
Dahlia swirls my straw. “I know you’re probably thinking, why the fuck should I trust this bitch? But we’re all here to let off steam and maybe, if we’re lucky, find a benevolent Radiant.”
Irisa sidles up to the table with a round of drinks on a tray. Her hair is still messy, but her sheer dress is straight and perfectly presentable again.
“Drink up,” she says, distributing her load, not acknowledging me.
Rude.
Everyone cheers, happily taking another glass, except Alfie. At first, I think he’s taken a slight to her ignorance of me, but when he avoids her eyes, I realize it’s about their shared history.
“Aw, come on.” She slides him a drink. “You can hardly blame me, Alf. It’s not like I’m going to marry him.”
Alfie glances at me, takes his drink, and snarks, “I hope you got what you wanted, Irisa.”
Her expression blanks. Then she laughs. “If you mean the best sex of my life, then hell, yes, I did.” The girls whoop, and she high-fives them in succession. She pauses when she gets to me and smirks. “You know what I mean, right?”
She tries to high-five me, but I don’t engage.
“Why would my fiancée know what he’s like to fuck?” Alfie fires.
Irisa pauses, then glances at me before returning to him with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, right. Her face. Sorry.”
A nasty worm wriggles in my gut. I take another drink to wash it down, but my resentment rises to lift it back.
Dahlia tosses a straw at him. “Loosen the fuck up, Alfie. It’s every man for himself here. You know that.”
He shuffles over to make room for Irisa, but she scowls at him. “No thanks. You’re bringing the vibe down. And look—yourfiancéeneeds cheering up. You’re not doing a very good job tending to her needs.”
“I’m fine.” I raise my palms. Please don’t bring me into this.
“Actually,” Dahlia blurts, trying to stand on the bench seat. Her shirt is on backward, and a part of her skirt is stuck in her panties. “Let’s go and dance. I haven’t scored a charm tonight, and Iggy isn’t here, so I don’t want to waste any more time.”
I’m guessing Ignarius is Iggy. That none of the others blinked at her pet name probably means she’s spoken about their relationship outside of this place.
When all the women climb out of the booth, I have no choice but to go along. Before Alfie sits, he crowds over Irisa and says, “I’m going to marry her, so help her out. You owe me.”
“I don’t know why you bother.” Irisa rolls her eyes.
“Because if she can pass as a Never, she won’t get deported after the Gentle Interlude.”
“Feeling sorry for her will get you killed.”
He pokes her. “Out of anyone who will get killed, it won’t be her.”
Pride swells in my chest. I want to smile at his faith in me but settle for meeting Irisa’s stare.
“Don’t worry,” she replies. “We’ll show her the ropes.”
“Let the girls help you get a charm,” Alfie tells me, imploring me with his eyes. “You can trust them in here.”
Something in the air doesn’t feel right. “You know what? I think I’ll head home, thanks.”
Alfie takes me aside and whispers, “You need to start taking my lead, Willow. I’ve been here for five years. I know how things work.”
“These women hate me out there, and I’m suddenly expected to trust them?”
“They don’t hate you. It’s the exhibition.”
