Diva (The Flappers) - By Jillian Larkin Page 0,47
relieved. “We made it!” Clara said.
Lorraine looked back to the brick dorm they’d just left and saw two security guards running out the entrance. “Not quite,” she said, pointing.
She grabbed Clara’s hand and they ran straight down the sidewalk. A hulking Rolls-Royce honked loudly at them as they dashed across the street toward an enormous, beautiful Gothic stone church that looked like it had been yanked straight out of a piazza in Italy. The sight of its intricately carved archways, numerous columns, and rooftop spires against the night sky would’ve been gorgeous if Lorraine had had the time to appreciate it. The two girls rushed up the stone stairs and through the heavy bronze doors into the church.
Clara looked over her shoulder when the doors shut behind them. “Do you think we lost them?”
“Definitely. They hadn’t even left campus by the time we got here.”
Clara smoothed her hair under her headband as they walked down the center aisle. Lorraine found this surprisingly endearing. She’d never felt anything special when she walked into a church. To her, churches were just big, old buildings where people tended to get very angry when she pulled out a flask in a pew.
But the quiet wonder of this building did demand respect, no matter what religion a person subscribed to. They passed through the aisle under high, domed ceilings. Creamy white columns stood near the altar. The enormous stained-glass windows added splashes of warmth and vibrancy to the cathedral’s otherwise somber atmosphere. An older woman dressed in black sat with a candle in her hands while a group of tourists marveled at the architecture in excited silence.
Clara and Lorraine slipped into one of the long wooden pews and sat down. “It’s not like an hour in the supply closet would’ve killed me.”
Lorraine shrugged. “If I hadn’t told you all that about Marcus, you never would’ve sneaked into his dorm.”
Clara met Lorraine’s eyes. “Amish, Raine, really?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“It did. Thanks, I guess.” Clara sank further into her seat. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously when you tried to tell me about Marcus’s fiancée. You were right. Her real name is Deirdre Van Doren and she’s got some kind of record.”
“Like a criminal one? Then let’s call the police, let them deal with her.”
“Shhh!” a frizzy-haired tourist hissed, glaring at them. Jeez, Lorraine thought, just because she had horrible hair didn’t mean she had to take it out on everyone else.
Clara leaned forward and whispered, “No, I talked to an ex-cop who’d worked some of her cases in the past. He said he thinks Anastasia is Deirdre, but he can’t provide anything that would hold up in court.” Clara fiddled with her aquamarine ring. “So I’m going to have to make sure Marcus doesn’t marry her myself. Even if he doesn’t want to be with me, he deserves someone better than her.”
Lorraine studied formerly Country Clara and felt her stomach twist up. She’d known Clara wasn’t really over Marcus—how could she be? It was Marcus Eastman. Marcus Eastman, the guy Lorraine had been in love with for the better part of her adolescence. As much as she wanted to save Marcus from ruin, part of her still wanted to be the girl he turned to once he was free of his duplicitous bride-to-be.
But the truth was like a fresh cup of coffee—it woke you up. Marcus would never want her. He was still in love with Clara. He never would’ve called security if he didn’t harbor feelings for the girl. Being that angry took a lot of energy—energy Marcus wouldn’t waste on someone who didn’t matter a hell of a lot to him.
Lorraine stared at the high ceilings and felt a chill of piercing but revelatory silence. She could focus on the way Clara had put her down, how Marcus refused to notice her, how Gloria had abandoned her when she’d needed her most.
Or she could get over it and try to take the high road for once.
“I’ll help you do the right thing, Clara. By doing the wrong thing. I’m an expert at that. We’ll confront this quiff and chase her out of town!”
Clara nodded. “And if she doesn’t agree to leave, I’ll publish an exposé on her. I managed to dig up a lot of dirt on her today. Maybe not enough to get her arrested, but it would definitely make Marcus’s parents think twice about letting him go through with the wedding.” She paused. “Provided Parker lets me do that. He might