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Jenn had no idea how much alcohol they’d collectively consumed—not that she was in any position to judge. Not when she kept catching herself watching Ruairidh’s hands as he laughed or tuning out of conversations just to feel the warmth of him beside her. Because tonight, he wasn’t just the quiet, elusive pilot. Tonight, he was fun. Sharp. Warm. Flirty? And… distractingly handsome. Jenn took another sip of cocktail.
Blame it on na sìthichean.
She’d caught Vivi and Lizzie’s eyes more than once through the night, and each time was met with an encouraging nod or sly grin that clearly said don’t worry about us—keep going. She never had to worry about Vivi, but still—she’d come all the way up here to see her. Then again, Vivi was deep in conversation with someone new every five minutes, laughing and joking with them like they were old friends. She certainly wasn’t paying much attention to Jenn and Ruairidh. Vivi was not exactly subtle.
Over the course of the evening, Vivi and Ally had hatched grand plans for his distillery, her hotels, and high-end bars she had good relationships with—world domination seemed imminent. They made quite the ambitious pair, that was for sure. Funny, though. Despite the energy between them, there didn’t seem to be any attraction—even aside from the Charles factor. Just pure friendship and shared vision.
Lizzie’s boyfriend, David, and a few of his mates from Beira’s Break had dropped by for a while—although in true surfer style, they were heading off early to catch the beach parties and would see everyone there later. David was clearly very appreciative of Lizzie’s outfit, but Jenn still found him… a bit limp. She’d got to know him better over the summer and remained surprised by their pairing. Lizzie was sharp as a tack, while David always came across as slightly spaced out. And that was saying something, given that Jenn herself leaned pretty far into the laid-back, slightly hippy end of the scale. She figured it must be the shared love of the outdoors that held it all together.
Cairistìona and MT’s husbands, Robert and Neil, also popped by the party and their table, though they mostly lingered near the bar and out in the marquee, chatting to everyone else. They were both instantly likeable and extremely sociable—which, Jenn supposed, was handy given their respective day jobs as a GP and an MSP. Apparently, Robert was doing far better than last year—he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.
“You guys look like you’re all having fun!” a voice announced at the table.
Jenn looked up to see five very pretty—and very scantily clad—women standing around them. Moira was among them.
Dressed as Poison Ivy from Batman, Moira's outfit was actually quite inspired. The tight, green costume complemented her striking red hair and pale complexion. Shame about her expression—currently set in a stern scowl that was pure Ealasaid, her narrowed gaze locked on Jenn and Ruairidh sitting side by side.
Ally was the first to break the awkward silence. He cleared his throat. “Hello, Louise. Hello, ladies! You all look very… ah… nice.”
The one apparently named Louise, dressed as a minimalist version of Supergirl, flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder and turned cool eyes to Ally—pausing to give Lizzie an obvious once-over.
“That’s some interesting costumes you’ve got there,” said a girl with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes—Batgirl, presumably.
“I don’t believe we’ve all met?” added another girl, who seemed the friendliest of the five. She had dark, wavy hair, warm brown eyes, and an olive complexion, and was dressed as Wonder Woman.
“Oh, don’t you?” Màiri said, voice a little arch. “Let me do the honours.”
“Obviously you know us lot,” she added, gesturing to herself, Cairistìona, MT, Ally, and Ruairidh. “And you must’ve met Cathy Ann and Lizzie by now?”
Five sets of eyes scrutinised the pair.
“You’re one of the science teachers, aren’t you?” Louise asked Lizzie.
“Yes, that’s right,” Lizzie replied, tugging at her costume. She looked deeply uncomfortable—social awkwardness was Lizzie’s personal kryptonite.
“And you’re the one with the tarot cards?” Batgirl's voice was slightly disdainful as she looked at Cathy Ann.
“That and other things,” Cathy Ann replied coolly, dismissing her with a sip of her neon cocktail.
“And this is Jenn and Vivi,” Màiri added, gesturing across the table.
“Jenn works with my gran at the airport,” Moira supplied, tight-lipped.
“Oh, so you’re the one who’s related to Peigi Morrison,” Louise said, her mental filing cabinet clearly flipping into gear.
“That’s correct,” Jenn replied, aiming for polite neutrality. Who walked into a party demanding a roll call and full family history?
“Peigi’s my great aunt,” she added, deciding not to rise to it. Catty wasn’t her thing.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” said the last girl—Catwoman—narrowing her eyes at Vivi. “You’re the one who got off with JJ Campbell at Hells Fest like… ten years ago?”
“That’s the lead singer of Callanish, by the way,” Ruairidh whispered to Vivi.
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Vivi threw her arms up. “Why does everyone know this? And why the hell does anyone care?” Her voice was sharp now, and she was half out of her chair. Classic Vivi—ready to go.
Jenn panicked. She needed to defuse this. Fast.
“It’s a small island, Vivi,” Ruairidh said smoothly, leaning in. “JJ’s practically a celebrity. You probably caused a stir because no one knew who you were.”
