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I feel kind of bad for Sorcha but, when the door opens, and she glides into the room, there’s no hint of tension on her face. She flashes me a radiant smile, and I can’t help hating her a little.
The woman is a goddess. At least five foot ten in her bare feet, she’s long-limbed and slender. Her skin practically glows and she reminds me of a young Grace Kelly with her perfectly symmetrical features.
I’ve never seen her look unpolished and now is no exception. She’s wearing a vibrant yellow dress that shouldn’t work so well with her strawberry blonde hair and black ankle boots that push her closer to Rory’s height.
He walks in behind her, carrying several bags. There are a couple of boxes under his arm. He dumps everything on the end of the bed, picks my breakfast tray up from the dressing table and leaves, without so much as glancing in my direction. I get the sense he’s mad at me, but I can’t see how that’s justified. I’m the victim of circumstance here.
“I wouldn’t try it.” Sorcha must see the way I’m eyeing the door. “If you run, he’ll bring you back and it won’t be pretty.”
“You speak from experience, do you?” My tone is more hostile than I intended.
“Yes,” Sorcha replies. “I do.”
If I knew her better, I’d ask her for more information, but I’m reluctant to pry into her personal life.
“Shouldn’t I at least try to get away?”
Sorcha shakes her head. “Take it from me, you’re better off just smiling prettily until you can find a way to turn this to your advantage.”
She’s right. I need to play along with Rory until I get a better grasp of my situation. If I can get him to trust me, it will be easier to slip away. I get up from the bed.
“So, what pretty things have you brought for me?”
“Well,” she says with an apologetic grimace. “I didn’t really know your style. I’ve only ever seen you in workwear.”
Considering I’ve seen Sorcha at a wedding and two nightclub openings, that stings. I guess she’s right, though. Even my special occasion wardrobe is fairly utilitarian. Since I spend eighty percent of my income on rent and utility bills and the rest on pesky life-sustaining necessities like food, there isn’t a lot of money left for clothes.
“I’m sure whatever you picked will be lovely.”
Sorcha goes to the pile of stuff Rory left on the bed and retrieves a black garment bag from the bottom. She places it on top of the pile and unzips it, carefully removing a gorgeous swathe of white silk and lace.
“It’s a proper wedding dress,” I marvel as she holds the hanger up so I can see its full length.
“Of course. I know this isn’t a conventional wedding, but I wasn’t going to let you get married in a burlap sack.”
I approach the dress, almost as if I’m afraid it’s going to bite me, and run my hand over the gloriously silky fabric. It’s a beautiful gown with a corset style bodice and a long silk skirt overlaid with the most delicate lace.
“Try it on.”
Sorcha doesn’t have to ask twice. I take the dress from her and head into the bathroom. After carefully hanging it on the door, I strip off my jeans, shirt and bra, because I won’t need it with this dress.
Thankfully, the underwear I packed is lacy because it would feel weird trying on such a gorgeous dress with granny pants. I step into the dress, taking care not to stand on the hem, and pull it up my body.
It feels so luxurious, the fabric caressing my skin. The back is fastened with a row of delicate silk-covered buttons that I can’t possibly manage by myself. Clutching the bodice to me, I step out into the bedroom. Sorcha grins broadly and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am, that this is the dress.
“Can you help with the buttons?” I ask.
“Yes, of course.”
I give her my back and pull my long, unruly hair out of the way so she can fasten the buttons. It takes several minutes, and she curses a couple of times as she struggles to get the tiny buttons through the hooks. Eventually, she succeeds. The dress fits snugly. I let my hair down and turn to face her.
“It’s gorgeous.” Sorcha steps back to get a better look. “It could have been made for you.”
“It does feel perfect, but it’s a little long.”
“The shoes will fix that. Now, let’s get the dress off you so I can do your hair and make-up.”
“Can’t we do that with the dress on?”
