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Raine
I’m slightly disappointed when I discover the place I can stay tonight isn’t Jack’s but Ollie’s.
“You look like a highlighter,” Jack says to Ollie’s wife when she joins us at the pub a half hour after he calls her.
She replies without hesitation. “Someone’s got to be the bright one in this family.”
I look her over. If I thought Ollie was intense, it’s nothing compared to her. The woman is tiny but terrifying. Everything about her radiates intensity, from the look in her eye to her outfit—a turtleneck paired with a knee-length skirt, tights, dangling unicorn earrings, and heels, all of them hot pink. She’d look like a walking glow stick if not for her dark hair, which is pulled up in a sleek high ponytail I could never manage with my frizzy ginger waves.
She shrugs off her coat (also pink) and hangs it along with her giant purse beneath the bar before taking the stool beside Jack. “You’re lucky I already had a babysitter. Now, who is this friend of yours that needs a place to stay tonight? You having a new friend iscertainly unprecedented.” Her gaze is sharp but not unfriendly when she looks me over.
I give her a hesitant wave. “Raine Hart.”
“Nina Lejeune-Dunne.” Her eyes linger on me, and I realize I’m swaying back and forth on my stool. I will myself to still and wiggle my toes in my boots instead. When she finally looks away, she says to Jack, “How long did you say you’ve beenfriendsfor?”
“I didn’t say, but I’d guess about an hour and a half or so.” He turns to me. “Does that sound right to you?”
“Give or take a few minutes.”
“An hour and a half or so,” Nina says. She looks at me again. “You’re American.”
“I’m from Boston.”
“South Florida,” she replies.
“Lucky, you have all the nice beaches.”
“We also have the strangest criminals.”
I’m unsure what to say to that, but Nina doesn’t seem to expect a response. She rummages through her purse and pulls out a tiny mirror and tube of lipstick. When she applies it, I’m unsurprised to find it is also hot pink. When she returns her purse to the hook beneath the bar, she eyes me again and says, “You’re pretty.”
The way she says it makes me unsure if this is a compliment or a statement or a question. “Thank you. You’re... also pretty.”
“Do you have a significant other?”
The question takes me off guard. “No...”
“Hmm.” She searches my face, but I have no idea what she’s looking for. “Are you drunk? You don’t seem drunk.”
I’ve only had two pints and am nowhere near drunk. “I... No?” My eyes dart to Jack, who looks mortified.
Ollie sighs from behind the bar and sets a margarita in front of Nina. “Between Jack messing with customers and you accusing themof being drunk, we’ll be lucky if we don’t run this place into the ground.”
“Well, hello to you too, Mr. Delightful,” she says.
The looks Nina and Ollie give each other make me feel like I’m intruding. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me like that, like I’m their favorite person. I’m not sure I’ve been anyone’s favorite anything—daughter, friend, singer, student. I guess I’m Clara’s favorite sister, but only by default.
“Sorry about Nina,” Jack says. “She can be... direct.”
I glance at Nina, who stirs her margarita absentmindedly as she listens to Ollie. “That’s an understatement.”
“Blunt, then.”
“Better.”
“She doesn’t mean anything by it. She’s just...”
“Intense?”
