“We get people in here every night who are far more trouble than you were, and they don’t have your excuse.” Benson jerked his thumb at Jade. “You should see what happens when she’s tipsy. Lifts everything in eyesight that isn’t bolted down.”
“Lies and tall tales,” Jade said. “I couldn’t possibly lift a piano.”
Reassured that he apparently wasn’t the worst behaved or the weirdest thing to come through the Magnolia’s doors, Rory’s shoulders relaxed.
“Supplier’s due in an hour,” said Benson.
“We’ll start with the uniform, then.” Jade led Rory through the curtains and backstage, into a small hall that led to the dressing rooms. He followed her into the first dressing room as she opened one of the closets and rummaged around. “This should fit,” she said, finally straightening with a stack of folded black and white in her arms. She eyed Rory and grinned. “At least, fit better than Ace’s clothes.”
Rory snorted. “He’s prissy about clean clothes. His fault if he thinks I look stupid.”
“I assure you,stupidwas not what Ace was thinking this morning.” She passed him the shirt off the top of the stack.
He held it up against himself, looking at his reflection. The size looked about right. “You think I’ll blend in okay with the other waiters? Will there be any other Italians?”
Jade hesitated. “Unlikely. Mansfield threw his money behind the Immigration Act last year and he’ll be making certain he broadcasts his politics to everyone who attends. He could hardly hire immigrants to work the party.”
Oh. Rory’s gaze drifted up to his own face. He’d jammed his cap down as far as it went, so his curls just barely poked out under the rim, but he wouldn’t be able to wear a hat tonight. He pulled the cap off and patted his hair. “Then maybe I should get rid of all this fluff for tonight,” he said, like it was no big deal, like he didn’t care.
Jade furrowed her brow. “That would be a tragedy. Why would you?”
Rory’s dad had hated his curls. When the church took him in, Rory was immediately ordered to cut it short and keep it that way.At least it’s blond, his dad would say, blue eyes cold, thin lips sour.Keep it short and maybe people will ignore the muddy eyes.
“I pass as English better with short hair.”
“I’m sure you do,” Jade said mildly. “But what do youwant?”
Rory’s mom had loved his curls. Rory let her keep it too long, even when he was thirteen and all the other boys had short hair.Come un angelo, his mom would say, dark eyes sparkling, smile bright as the sun.Like an angel. “My Italian mom had curly hair too.”
Jade’s eyes softened.
Rory bit his lip. It was just hair. It shouldn’t matter. “Changing my hair would make Ace’s plan easier.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “But Ace would saybugger the planand storm the mansion solo before he’d change you.”
“Oh.” In the mirror, Rory’s reflection was suddenly smiling. “Well—never mind, then.”
From Chinatown Arthur had gone to his tailor, to let Mr. Dannenburg give him whatever accessories were in current fashion for black tie. Then it had been to the barber for a trim and straight-razor shave before home to get dressed.
His study phone rang just as he was tying his bow tie. “Rory is a marvel,” Jade said into his ear, when he answered. “He saved us an ungodly sum. The doorman is taking him up to your flat now.”
“We leave in fifteen minutes—where areyou?”
“The lobby. I didn’t think Rory should be alone, what with the relic and all, but now that he’s entrusted back to your care I’ll meet you at the rendezvous.”
Arthur frowned. “Why not just come up?”
“Because I’ve seen you dressed to the nines and it’s a sight that could raise the dead,” Jade said bluntly. “I don’t want to be in earshot the first time he sees you in a tux. I’ll let him swoon in private.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic—” The tone sounded in Ace’s ear; she’d already hung up. He gave the phone a dirty look.
As he set it back in the cradle, there was a knock on the front door. Arthur went to open it. “And how was Har—oof.”
His back hit the foyer’s coat rack as a chin-height blond tidal wave knocked him to the wall. “Look atyou.” Rory pressed tight against him, up on his toes as his hands gripped Arthur’s lapels. “I miss youall dayand now you look like a fantasy made real?”
Surely Arthur was the one in a fantasy, tackled in his own foyer by all this eager affection? Rory’s dark eyes were wild, his hands in urgent motion over every inch of Arthur. “You’re already the most handsome man I ever saw and now you’re in atuxedo,” he said hoarsely. “I think you stopped my heart.Luce dei miei occhi, baciami.”
“Oh, you shit.” Arthur spun them so Rory was the one pinned to the coats. “The Italian’s a dirty trick.”
