Page 51 of Midnight Enemy

“And I’m none of those things. How am I going to match that?”

She starts looking through my clothes. “That’s my point. He’s interested in you because you’re different. You’re like a sunbeam in a gallery of neon lights. You’re natural and fresh. So you should play on that.” She pulls out a dress. “Wear this one.”

I study it doubtfully. It’s a boho maxi dress, floor length and sleeveless and with shirring from the bust to the waist, in a deep yellow with big colorful flowers. It’s perfect for a late summer or early autumn evening barbecue, but it’s not exactly posh evening wear.

“Trust me,” she says. “You’ll knock his socks off.”

I do trust her, so I shower and dry my hair, then, at her urging, pin it up in a bun so loose that half of it escapes and tumbles around my neck. I add a pair of sandals with a small heel, and let her help me with my makeup—just a touch of liner and mascara to define my eyes, powder to take away the shine, and a slick of lip gloss.

“You look amazing,” she says when I’m done. “You’re so gorgeous.” She looks at my clutch and her eyes twinkle. “You want to pack a toothbrush?”

“Ana!”

“I’m just saying.”

I know Ana isn’t a virgin. Despite us having the same upbringing, she’s always been more rebellious than me, and I know she’s had a couple of lovers. I’m not sure if she realizes I haven’t. I haven’t told her about what happened at the Waiora because I’m too embarrassed.

I mustn’t be naive. He’ll probably expect me to go to bed with him if he takes me to dinner. I should call him and tell him I’ve changed my mind, or at least make it perfectly clear that there will be no sex.

I look at the phone I’ve borrowed from the office. Then, feeling wicked, I pick it up and put it in the clutch. My heart races at the thought that I’m even contemplating having sex with Orson again.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say, feeling a sudden surge of panic. “Shouldn’t I wear something more businesslike?”

“This isn’t a business meeting.”

“I feel that I should think of it like that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not like we can have a relationship.”

“Again, why?”

“I’m not exactly his type, and he’s not mine. I don’t fit in his world. And can you imagine him joining the commune?”

“Scarlett,” she says patiently, “you don’t have to marry every guy you have sex with.” Her expression softens then, and she rubs my arm. “I know you’ve had it tougher than me,” she says. “Dad always had higher expectations for you. Even though he treated me like the baby, he was so desperate to protect you from the world. But we are a part of it, and you shouldn’t shut yourself away from it.”

It’s the first time she’s ever said anything like that to me before, and my throat tightens. “I don’t shut myself away from the world.”

“Of course you do. And that’s okay, because most of the time it’s a difficult place. We exist in another, easier time here. But it’s all right to want something more sometimes.”

“I don’t want more,” I protest, feeling emotional as I think about our parents, and why they wanted this better life for us. “I’m happy here.”

“I know, I know.” She hugs me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you on your special day. Don’t listen to me. I just want you to be happy and enjoy yourself, that’s all.”

I hug her back. After our mother’s death, several women at the commune tried to step into her role to look after us, and since Dad died, the guys have done the same, wanting to make sure Ana and I are looked after. But it’s not the same as having your own parents, and so Ana and I have grown closer together and looked out for each other.

The sound of a car outside makes us pull part, and Ana rushes to peer through the net curtains. “Oh my God,” she says. “He’s in a fucking Aston Martin.”

“Ana,” I scold. “Argh, everyone is going to see it!”

“I know, they’re going to be absolutely green with envy.”

“It’s hardly a good example to set!” I join her at the window. The car pulls up in front of the house and sits there purring before he kills the engine. “It’s so extravagant.”

“You can’t really wish he’d turned up on a tandem?”

“Well, I…” My voice trails off as he opens the door and gets out. “Ooh.”

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