But it’s me. And I love it.
I sit on the edge of the tub and pull on my thigh-high white tights, slide on my black Mary-Janes and just as I go to exit—uncharacteristically and impulsively—I stop to reach for one of Ari’s headbands. I choose a thin, black band with a small bow on the left side.
After I’m sure about myself, I make my way down the stairs and through to the kitchen. Dinner will be held at Mirage, so when I reach the kitchen and find Ari and Frankie still in their habits, I stop in my tracks.
Ari spots me first. She looks flustered, prattling off harsh words in French. When she settles on me, she beams. “Oh, dear. You look beautiful.”
Frankie looks up from placing vegetables onto serving dishes, and rather than smiling, she looks down at my clothes and pales. “Oh, Cat...”
Before she can say a thing, Bob—no, scratch that—Father Robert appears by my side, dressed the part. He smiles down at me. “You look very pretty, girlie.” But the expression doesn’t reach his eyes.
My mind reels. “What’s going on?”
Father Robert puts on a tight smile. “Change of plans. We have an extra guest tonight. An outsider.”
Oh, shit.
My eyes widen as I’m suddenly panicked. “Should I go change?”
Frankie cringes, while Bob utters quietly, “Too late for that. They’re already here. Just go with it. We’ll be okay.”
“We’re here!” comes from the back entrance.
Smiling widely at Clark’s voice, I hear Frankie mutter, “Oh, shit,” a second before I turn to see Clark.
And his date.
***
I take my fork and stab at a roasted potato on my plate so hard that a shrill squeaking noise fills the awkward silence of the church’s dining quarters. I seem to miss everyone cringe and wince at the high-pitched sound.
I’m oblivious to everything and everyone at the moment. My mood tonight went from hopeful to murderous. Yes. Murderous.
Literally.
If I had a job tonight, I would have executed it in mere minutes. Blood pumps through my veins at such a speed I can hear it pulse and roar through my eardrums.
I’m furious. But what makes me even more furious is that I’m not sure why I’m so angry.
I knew it. I told Frankie Clark and I were just friends, but she pushed. And pushed. And pushed until I thought—for just a moment—we could have something good together. Sure, my feelings for him have changed, but he’s a great looking guy; he’s sweet, adorable and a great friend, and I’m sure—given the chance—I could fall in love with him.
It took me all day to work up the courage to admit I wanted to kiss him, that I wanted to feel his lips on mine, because I know if I had been given the opportunity to kiss him, that’s all I would’ve needed to know if Clark and I are compatible.
Although, you felt the zing with James...
That wasn’t a zing. I was wrong about James. This time around, when I feel the zing, I’ll have something to compare it to. Something to judge it against.
This time, you’ll know if it’s lust or something more.
I sure as hell hope so.
After Clark and Michelle arrived, I stood in the kitchen blinking stupidly at the pretty woman, completely missing my introduction to her. Bob nudged me in warning, so I gritted my teeth and held out my hand to the obnoxiously kempt outsider.
As I shook her hand and smiled, I pictured picking every blonde hair out her head one-by-one. I thought about taking the fork from the long kitchen bench and gouging her pretty blue eyes out. It would’ve been so easy to take the carving knife next to the resting racks of lamb and slit her dainty little throat, then watch the blood and life ooze out of her simultaneously.
But then she smiled at the mention of my name. Then hugged me.
“Oh, wow! You’re Cat! Clark talks so much about you.” Winking, she chuckled. “You’re his special girl.”
I stood there mid-embrace, begging my lip not to curl at her touch, while pleading with my hand to avoid flipping her ass-over-tit and breaking her wrist.
My response was laced with venom. “That’s funny. He never mentioned you.”
Loosening her hold on me, she took a step back and fluttered her lashes up at him. When he smiled back down at her, it hurt a little. Irrationally. That smile had been directed at me so many times before; I wonder how I missed just how special it was.
That’s my special smile.
She beamed at me. “Well, we didn’t tell anyone we were seeing each other.” Taking Clark’s hand, her smile softened. “We wanted to make sure we knew each other a bit better before we took the next step.”
My heart skipped a beat.
Excuse me, Cinderella?
Next step? Next step?
I swallowed hard, then stuttered, “N-next step?”
Clark cut in then, “Yeah, meeting each other’s family.”
Family. Yes. We are a family. I should be happy for him. I should.
So why do I feel as though she’s won and I’ve lost?
Jaw set, I stab at a carrot with such force I almost crack my dinner plate. Father Robert sits at the head of the table, with Sisters Arianne and Francis by his sides. On one side of the table, Michelle and Clark sit close together, whispering soft words to each other.
I fight hard to hide my subtle eye roll.
Oh, puh-leeze. Someone gag me.
On my side of the table, Marco sits between Ari and me, leaving me at the open end of the table.
Michelle speaks up, “So, Cat, where do you go to school?”
Before I can answers with, ‘I’ve been training as an assassin since before you knew your times-tables’, Bob cuts me off as he states, “Cat is in training here at the church.” He smiles proudly at me. “She’s going to be a nun.”
Michelle’s brows rise in surprise. “Oh, wow,” her eyes narrow at my dress, “I didn’t realise you could wear things like that.”
My mouth opens, but once again, I’m cut off, this time by Frankie, “We’re a smaller church, and although our beliefs remain the same as the Vatican, you could say we’re a little more liberal that way.” Frankie smirks at Michelle. “The way Cat dresses doesn’t affect what she believes in, but most days, she wears a modest outfit and veil.”
Michelle nods, face blank. We all watch her intently, hoping to God she buys our bullshit. When she smiles for the hundredth time tonight, we all seem to exhale in relief.
While everyone chats away, I mope around my meal. When a husky voice whispers by my ear, I jump. “You look beautiful, pussy cat.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks. “Thank you.”
It’s then when I stop focusing on the happy new couple and look around me. Frankie and Bob talk with their heads close together, while Ari and Michelle talk from across the table, with Clark listening in on their conversation. And Marco...
Holy shit.
I hadn’t really noticed Marco until he spoke to me. Conflicting emotions coarse through me. My cheeks flush hotter. Marco looks amazing. He’s made an effort this evening, and dressed up in dark jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt. My eyes close as I suddenly catch his scent, and it makes me want to bury my nose in the crook of his neck and lick a trail up to his jawline.
Oh, fuck.
You don’t ever think about Clark that way.
No.
I don’t.
Before my mind can stop my mouth, I respond to Marco with, “You look beautiful, too.” He lifts his head and slowly turns to me, lips twitching.