Stay the Night (19 page)

It made her sad. She hunched, not able to say a thing.

“See? You can’t even deny it.”

The sadness in his voice brought tears to her eyes. She swallowed them back, trying to find her purpose again.

“Call the parents on the number I gave you. They’re having a good time in New York, but they miss you.” Cormac paused. “I love you, Niamh. I know you see me as a bad guy, but I’m on your side.”

Cormac hung up before she could reply.

On her side
.

The words echoed in her head, both Cormac’s and Robert’s voices saying it in unison.

Her tears dried up in her anger. If they were on her side, they’d help her get what she wanted, and that was the Red Witch.

She had the urge to get her violin out, but she wouldn’t give Cormac the satisfaction. She didn’t
need
music.

What she needed was a shot of whiskey.

Instead, she took a rag and began polishing the counter instead. She’d figure something out, without either of the men who supposedly supported her.

All evening, her anger escalated. Her regulars shot her worried glances each time she slammed a glass down on the counter. She’d managed to clear out the pub long before closing time.

Which suited her just fine. She turned up the mournful cello music she had on and grieved with a shot of Jameson’s.

A quarter to eleven the door opened, and Robert walked in.

She froze, stunned into place by the unexpected visit and how much she wanted to run to him for comfort.

She picked up a pint glass and threw it at his head. “
Bastard
.”

He ducked. “Niamh, wait—”

“You put in an offer on the bar.”

“I told you I was—”

She cursed and threw another glass. “You bastard. You
knew
how important this pub was to me. You turned on me.”

“That’s complete shite.” He held his hands up as he approached her cautiously. “Just calm down and—”

“I don’t want to calm down,” she yelled. She shoved her hair out of her face and glared at him, picking up another glass to have it ready. “I had a chance to do something, to make this pub something great. And I was just as excited to meet you. It looked like my life was finally clicking into place. I’d found purpose and someone—”

She shut her mouth before she said
someone I
really
liked
. She shouldn’t like him. She looked away as he stepped in front of her. “Go away, Robert.”

He took the glass from her hand and lifted her chin. “I’m not going to go away.”

“Because you want to rub it in my face that you bought this pub?” she asked, defeated. “Or you want to offer me a job to work here?”

“You know what I want?” He lowered his head and kissed her.

It was bittersweet and still so perfect. Her soul rose up to meet his, swelling in her the way music did.

She broke away as tears filled her eyes. “How pathetic am I to enjoy kissing the man who stole my dream?”

He stepped back from her. “If you were brave enough to admit it, you’d know I handed you your dream.”

Ouch.
She winced, thinking of the card in her pocket.

He’s right, the little voice inside her said.

Shut up
. She looked at him. “Just go, Robert,” she said, feeling her heart break. She waited until he walked out and then turned all the lights off and gathered her things. All her things.

Before she locked up, she wrote Geraldine a note, to let her know she quit. She couldn’t work there any longer, knowing there wasn’t any hope. Knowing the place she loved was dead.

Chapter Nineteen

Her walk-in closet in the South Street room was larger than her first flat. Titania stared into it, looking at all the clothing she had. It’d look like much more clothing in the smaller dresser in her last place. In fact, her jeans and selection of T-shirts and sweaters looked ridiculous and lonely hanging in there.

But the quantity of clothing wasn’t the problem. It was the type. She had no dresses.

Dinner with Ian was tonight.

The thought of having to go shopping made her choke with panic. She swallowed it back and tried to think logically.

Really, there was only one option. Titania got her mobile out.

Fortunately, her sister answered right away. “Gigi, I need you to come home right now,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” Her sister’s voice was sharp with worry.

“I need a dress.”

“Now I’m really worried,” Gigi said. “You never wear dresses.”

“I know.” Titania winced. But Ian wanted to see her in a dress, and the way he’d sounded when he’d requested it made her shiver deep down. She wanted him to look at her that way again—with that hunger in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her like that. She hadn’t ever
wanted
anyone to look at her like that. She was used to fading in the background.

“I finish shooting this weekend, but Merrick’s flying down, and we’re going to have a short holiday on Santorini. Can your dress wait until next week?”

“I need it for tonight.”

There was a pause, then Gigi said, “Okay, I’ll take care of it for you.”

Titania perked up. “Really?”

“Trust me.”

She hesitated. “Good never comes from someone saying
trust me
.”

“Yes, but you have no choice, do you?” Gigi asked a little too gleefully.

“I guess not,” she murmured. She hoped she wasn’t going to regret this. “I have no money or credit though, so the dress has to be practically free.”

“Don’t worry, darling. I said I’d take care of it.” She paused, and then her voice went sly. “What’s his name?”

Titania blinked. Best to play dumb, she decided. “Whose name?”

“You really expect me to believe that you’d wear a dress on your own volition?” Gigi drawled. “There’s a man at the root of this, probably the man you’re on assignment with.”

“Well, it was nice talking to you,” she said.

“Tawny—”

She hung up, but a few minutes later her phone rang again, with a number she didn’t recognize. “Hello?” she answered carefully, afraid it might be Cole.

“It’s Rosalind.” There was a pause, and then she added, “Your sister.”

Titania rolled her eyes. “I know who you are.”

“I just wanted to be sure. Where are you now?”

She frowned, not certain why Rosalind wanted to know. “At the South Street house.”

“Excellent. I’ll meet you there this afternoon, say around five? That should give us enough time.”

“Enough time for what?”

“Gigi said you needed a dress.”

She blinked in surprise. “You’re helping me with a dress?”

“I’m a dress designer, Titania,” her sister replied dryly. “Who better?”

She couldn’t argue that. Before she could say anything else, Rosalind said, “What sort of dress do you need?”

“Er …”

“It’s not a trick question, Titania. Do you need something for a funeral? Something for a gala or opera opening? A dress for a night dancing in clubs? It should be a fairly straightforward answer.”

“I don’t know,” she said, frustrated. “I don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Okay,” Rosalind said in a soothing voice. “Let’s try this again. You’re going out? With a man?”

“
Yes
.”

“Okay, then you want something sexy.” Rosalind paused. “Or is he just a friend?”

“I don’t know what he is,” she muttered miserably. Was getting a dress always this complicated? This was why she stuck with jeans and T-shirts.

“If you don’t know what he is, he’s definitely more than a friend.” Rosalind chuckled. “Okay, I know what I’m looking for. See you at five.”

Titania held her phone out and stared at it. What had she gotten herself into?

At precisely five, a soft knock sounded on her door.

“Finally,” she said, loudly so Rosalind would hear her. She yanked open her bedroom door.

Only it wasn’t Rosalind who stood there. It was Jacqueline.

Her mother smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Titania, can you come with me?”

She shook her head, folding her arms in front of her chest. “I’m waiting for Rosalind.”

“I know. She’s in my room, waiting for you.”

Why weren’t they meeting in her room? She turned around and surveyed it. It looked perfectly acceptable.

Jacqueline must have sensed her confusion because her smile softened and she said, “There’s more room for your transformation in my suite.”

“Transformation?” The word made her belly twist with nerves.

“Gigi was very explicit about what she expected.” Her mother raised her brow. “You trust Gigi, don’t you?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” She sighed and nodded. “Let’s get this done.”

Titania swore she saw Jacqueline’s eyes light up with humor, but her mother turned around before she could be sure. She took Psyche from the bed and followed her out and down the hall.

She may pretend like she dreaded this date and the process of getting ready, but a part of her was secretly looking forward to it. The past few days since their relationship had changed were amazing.

Of course, he had no idea she’d taken more pictures and that her photo essay was complete. She made a face.
She
was very pleased with how it turned out, but she wasn’t delusional to think Ian would feel the same.

“Is your date tonight with Ian MacNiven?”

Hearing the echo of Ian’s name outside her thought startled Titania. “What do you know about Ian MacNiven?”

“He came to the house looking for you the other day.” Jacqueline’s brow furrowed. “Did I read him wrong?”

She frowned, taken aback. “How did you read him?”

“He cares for you quite a bit.” She didn’t say another word until they reached her room. Hand on her doorknob, she turned suddenly. “If you have feelings for him, Titania, don’t let anything stand in your way. I know you have no reason to take advice from me, but in this, trust me, I know what I’m speaking of.”

Paralyzed by her mother’s intensity, she could only blink.

Jacqueline smiled sadly and opened the door.

Titania lost something right there, but she had no idea what.

“There you are.” Rosalind waved her in. “Come in already. We don’t have much time.”

“It’s only five,” she said, setting her camera on a dresser. It was shorter and older than the one in Ian’s room, but she blushed a little nonetheless, thinking about what they’d done.

“Titania.” Rosalind put her arm around her waist and guided her to her mother’s closet. “I think you underestimate how much needs to be accomplished this afternoon.”

“How much?” Suspicious, she dug her heels in to avoid entering it.

“A lot.” She gave her an unsympathetic shake of her head. “Gigi requested it, so if you have complaints take it up with her.”

Summer poked her head out of the closet. “Oh good, you’re here.”

“You, too?” She frowned. “I thought you were trying to win me over.”

Summer shrugged. “I’ve been told acts of kindness are lost on you. I’m about to get medieval.”

Titania turned around and tried to make a run for it.

Rosalind caught her. Looking her in the eye, a soft smile on her lips, she said, “Trust us, Titania. We’ve got your back.”

She looked around at them all. They looked like they were holding their breaths, willing her to agree—as though their happiness depended on this.

Her heart twinged. It’d been doing that a lot lately. She put a hand over it and hoped it’d be okay. “Do it, just be quick about it.”

Rosalind laughed, squeezing Titania. “You brave, brave girl. Let’s doll you up.”

“Finally,” Summer said, rolling her eyes.

They entered the closet.

It was really a dressing room, larger than her bedroom had been before she’d been evicted. Frankly, it looked larger than her bedroom now, and that was sizeable. There were color-coordinated rows of blouses, skirts, and dresses interspersed with uniformly closed drawers. Neat and orderly in a way that made Titania cringe.

Gigi used to make her sneak in there when they were children. Gigi wanted to try on the jewelry and clothing. Titania hadn’t been interested in any of that, but she’d loved taking Gigi’s pictures as she’d played dress up.

“Jacqueline, your clothes are amazing.” Summer shook her head in awe. “My closet is a study in grayscale.”

“We’ll work on you next, darling, if you want,” Jacqueline said, squeezing Summer’s hand.

Titania knew she was gawking, but she couldn’t help it. Her mother was actually fond of her husband’s bastard. Titania would never have imagined that—ever.

“I had a couple possibilities selected,” Rosalind said, rummaging through a rack. “But now that I see Titania there’s only one right choice.”

“This is where we’re shopping?” Titania asked.

Jacqueline nodded. “We’re about the same size. Rosalind will work her magic, and you should be set.”

“This one.” Rosalind pulled out a long satiny ice blue sheath.

“I—” Titania shut her mouth, her gaze caught on a picture on the wall. It was a picture of a mother and baby in a park. The baby laughed with joy and the mother stared at her child with love and wonder. She gasped, unable to mask her shock. “
That’s mine.
”

They all looked at where she pointed.

“I bought it from your first show,” Jacqueline said.

“
You?
” Titania whirled around and gaped at her mother. “You didn’t go to my first show. I invited you and Reginald, and neither one of you went.”

Jacqueline frowned. “Of course I went. I wouldn’t have missed that first one for the world. It was important.”

She spun around and stared at the photo again, her mind and heart jumbled. The mother and child had been random people she’d caught at the park. She couldn’t remember which one, or where, but she still remembered the jealousy she felt for that baby whose mother clearly adored her.

Jacqueline came to stand next to her, close but not touching. “Don’t tell Portia, but I had to sell one of the antique Summerhill pieces to be able to afford that photograph. But I had to have it, didn’t I?”

She blinked, not wanting to cry, especially in front of people. But all these years she’d thought her mother didn’t care, and now this.