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Rory shrugs. “Where do you usually shop?”
I name a couple of high street stores and even before he shakes his head, I know they’re not what he had in mind. He takes his cellphone from his jacket pocket and hands it to me.
“Call Sorcha. She’ll tell you where we should go.”
“Okay, what’s the passcode?”
“2-8-0-4.”
I wonder what the significance of the number is. Rory must read my mind.
“It’s my mother’s birthday.”
He clearly loved his mother deeply which I guess is another point in his favor. Damn. I don’t want to see all the good in him, not when I’m still mad about being pushed into marrying him.
I enter the code into his phone and find his list of contacts. There are hundreds of them. Does he really know all these people?
I have six names on my phone and two of them are for paint suppliers. I scroll down until I find Sorcha’s name and press the button to call her.
“Rory Donovan,” she answers after a couple of seconds. “What have you done now?”
I grin, liking her feistiness.
“It’s not Rory, it’s Eleanor.”
“Oh, hi, are you okay? Did you stab him in his sleep? Do you need a clean-up crew, some cash, a passport?”
“Couldn’t you have offered me those things before I married him?”
Rory slants a look of disapproval at me. He clearly doesn’t like how this conversation is going. I clear my throat.
“Uh, I need a new dress. Rory told me to ask you where would be a good place to shop.”
“That depends. Is it your money or his?”
“His money.”
“In that case, your best bet is Harrods. You can get everything you need there. Tell Rory I’ll call and arrange a personal shopper for you.”
“Oh, okay.” I end the call and hand Rory his phone back.
“Well, where did she suggest?”
I grimace because I’d have chosen somewhere less fancy.
“Harrods. She’s going to phone ahead and get us a personal shopper.”
“Ah, good idea. I should have thought of that myself.”
I’m glad he doesn’t seem outraged by the suggestion we shop at one of London’s most exclusive stores, but I’m not sure I like the idea of spending a lot of his money.
“Isn’t it a bit pricey?”
Rory shakes his head. “For my wife, no.”
I don’t argue but, for the rest of the drive back to the city, I’m quiet. It just seems wrong to let Rory take me shopping when I’m still wondering if there’s a way out of this marriage.
In the end, I decide to just let him buy me a new dress. May as well enjoy the perks of being a mob wife.
