head pounded at the notion of attending a party. “No. Thanks, but I can’t. I’m busy.”
Reilly toyed with his straw. He sucked out the contents and slipped the cylinder of paper between her fingers. Moira closed her eyes. How she loved the way his Adam’s apple stuck out when he swallowed.
“You sure? It’s at the Meridian Hotel. If you’re up to that sort of wild time, I promise it’ll be a night you won’t forget.”
She opened her eyes at this comment. What kind of wild time? One where liquor flowed more quickly than water from the hydrants? What type of women attended such parties? Probably not ones who confessed at St. Pat’s on a regular basis.
Behind them, a woman’s high-pitched laughter rang out. Moira swiveled on her stool and froze as she recognized the woman’s face.
Sally Hixson nodded in Moira’s direction. “Imagine her. Trying to get on the good side of Mrs. VanMuir. Huh. She isn’t good enough to shine that woman’s shoes. Owning her own dress shop some day? What utter nonsense. She doesn’t have enough money to buy an extra loaf of bread each week. Maybe those grandsons of Plug Uglies she hangs out with will grease her palm for...oh, well.”
Sally rolled her eyes and giggled, walking away before Moira had a chance to comment.
To hell with that snob. She’d go with Reilly to the party and have the time of her life. No matter what other people think. It was high time she start enjoying herself and stop worrying about what others think. Reilly’s nostrils flared. For a moment, his devilish smile blotted out all of the badness in her life and replaced it with romantic notions.
Dangerous? Definitely, but what better way to shed her shyness and innocence than to accept his invitation?
“I’d love to go to the Meridian.” She sucked the last drop of egg cream through the straw and licked her lips. Oh, to see him squirm at her teasing. “What should I wear?”
She dropped her head and then raised it coyly. That come-hither look was sure to go straight to his heart and other places. Moira peeked to make sure. Success. The front of his trousers was tented.
“Sure thing. Now for your surprise.”
“Surprise?” Moira’s thoughts tangled. Probably more details about Monday. If only Janet weren’t ill, she’d help me get ready. Poor soul. If Janet’s family said she was down with the grippe, then that made it so. Eloise and Sally Hixon would burn for their wrong ways. To hades with them both. Today, all Moira cared about was having a high time with Reilly at the Meridian.
* * * *
Reilly watched the flush rising on Moira’s otherwise ashen face. How cruel, those two bitches. Laughing at Moira’s expense. She wanted to fight back but was too much of a lady to do anything about their insults. For now, at least. She’d remember their unkindness. Oh, yes. Those green eyes glowed with a ferocity and determination.
He never told her what he wanted her to wear. He’d rather see her bare and in his bed, but…“You can wear anything that shows off those gorgeous gams.”
He fingered the note inside his coat pocket. Written on the crumpled piece of paper was his Uncle Morgan’s directive. In no uncertain terms, the elder Dunne demanded that “the green-eyed goddess” accompany his nephew to the bash at the Meridian Hotel. No other details were disclosed. Reilly knew an ultimatum when he read one. His uncle might want a stab at Moira’s sweet hole, but this time he wasn’t about to get what he wanted. He wouldn’t let Moira become a pawn in any of Morgan Dunne’s putrid games. Hot damn. Those lovely lamps of hers would be opened wider than ever at the Meridian.
She poked his hand and roused him from his reverie. “Maybe I should head back to Bainbridge’s? They’re open until six o’clock. They’ve lots of lovely dresses. I’ve saved a—”
He kissed her quivering lips. “Come on out here to the curb. I have something I think you’ll find more suitable than
Reilly toyed with his straw. He sucked out the contents and slipped the cylinder of paper between her fingers. Moira closed her eyes. How she loved the way his Adam’s apple stuck out when he swallowed.
“You sure? It’s at the Meridian Hotel. If you’re up to that sort of wild time, I promise it’ll be a night you won’t forget.”
She opened her eyes at this comment. What kind of wild time? One where liquor flowed more quickly than water from the hydrants? What type of women attended such parties? Probably not ones who confessed at St. Pat’s on a regular basis.
Behind them, a woman’s high-pitched laughter rang out. Moira swiveled on her stool and froze as she recognized the woman’s face.
Sally Hixson nodded in Moira’s direction. “Imagine her. Trying to get on the good side of Mrs. VanMuir. Huh. She isn’t good enough to shine that woman’s shoes. Owning her own dress shop some day? What utter nonsense. She doesn’t have enough money to buy an extra loaf of bread each week. Maybe those grandsons of Plug Uglies she hangs out with will grease her palm for...oh, well.”
Sally rolled her eyes and giggled, walking away before Moira had a chance to comment.
To hell with that snob. She’d go with Reilly to the party and have the time of her life. No matter what other people think. It was high time she start enjoying herself and stop worrying about what others think. Reilly’s nostrils flared. For a moment, his devilish smile blotted out all of the badness in her life and replaced it with romantic notions.
Dangerous? Definitely, but what better way to shed her shyness and innocence than to accept his invitation?
“I’d love to go to the Meridian.” She sucked the last drop of egg cream through the straw and licked her lips. Oh, to see him squirm at her teasing. “What should I wear?”
She dropped her head and then raised it coyly. That come-hither look was sure to go straight to his heart and other places. Moira peeked to make sure. Success. The front of his trousers was tented.
“Sure thing. Now for your surprise.”
“Surprise?” Moira’s thoughts tangled. Probably more details about Monday. If only Janet weren’t ill, she’d help me get ready. Poor soul. If Janet’s family said she was down with the grippe, then that made it so. Eloise and Sally Hixon would burn for their wrong ways. To hades with them both. Today, all Moira cared about was having a high time with Reilly at the Meridian.
* * * *
Reilly watched the flush rising on Moira’s otherwise ashen face. How cruel, those two bitches. Laughing at Moira’s expense. She wanted to fight back but was too much of a lady to do anything about their insults. For now, at least. She’d remember their unkindness. Oh, yes. Those green eyes glowed with a ferocity and determination.
He never told her what he wanted her to wear. He’d rather see her bare and in his bed, but…“You can wear anything that shows off those gorgeous gams.”
He fingered the note inside his coat pocket. Written on the crumpled piece of paper was his Uncle Morgan’s directive. In no uncertain terms, the elder Dunne demanded that “the green-eyed goddess” accompany his nephew to the bash at the Meridian Hotel. No other details were disclosed. Reilly knew an ultimatum when he read one. His uncle might want a stab at Moira’s sweet hole, but this time he wasn’t about to get what he wanted. He wouldn’t let Moira become a pawn in any of Morgan Dunne’s putrid games. Hot damn. Those lovely lamps of hers would be opened wider than ever at the Meridian.
She poked his hand and roused him from his reverie. “Maybe I should head back to Bainbridge’s? They’re open until six o’clock. They’ve lots of lovely dresses. I’ve saved a—”
He kissed her quivering lips. “Come on out here to the curb. I have something I think you’ll find more suitable than
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