Page 13 of Irish Fury
Embroidery, not her choice of art, but who was she to naysay the prime minister’s wife? This was a scenario with so many options.
She’d been inside the girl’s attic. Sparse at best, a hovel at worst. But she knew desperation, and Margaret Morrow was desperate as fuck.
She heard herself giggle and loved the carefree noise. She’d just watched the young girl shower at a dirty gym, and while Margaret cried under the hot spray, she’d come up with her next psychological trap.
Making this young girl afraid of her own shadow gave her no monetary value. It didn’t give her back the years she’d lost behind the white walls of an insane asylum. It was about righting a wrong.
An eye for an eye.
seven
MAGS
Mags: I just got paid, bitches! And my client loved the blazer. I took a ton of pictures for my website, but she won’t let me post them until after her fancy party. Ask me why? No, don’t ask me. But…paid…
Ciar: Send proof of payment, and I’ll buy you a steak at Gray Eyes to celebrate. I know how you like your meat. *wink face*
Gray: Ciar! That was only funny like the first three times! So many hugs and kisses to you, Mags!
Dagr: Consider me a client. I want blankets for Imogen and Colm. Gray for Imogen and black for Colm.
Blair: You would pick those colors for tiny babies, Griffiths. Congrats, Mags!
Mags: I make all the embroidery choices?
Dagr: Of course.
Bébhinn: Congratulations a million times over! I can only assume you will be coming to our charity event. It’s special for me. Tell me yes, for sure.
Mags: Yes. For sure.
Daniel: Congratulations. Seriously. When do we get to see your new flat?
Mags: When it’s not embarrassingly bare. Patience.
Blair: I can’t wait until you can post the pictures. Also, send me a picture of what dress you’re wearing to Bébhinn’s thing. I’m considering a dress that requires no bra or panties.
Gray: Slut. I might be considering a similar dress. Send pictures.
Jonathan: I’m proud of you, Mags.
Mags choseto ignore the last text.I’m proud of you, Mags.“Good for you, Jonathan. Now kindly screw off. Condescending bastard,” she grumbled.
She grabbed her satchel tighter against her body. She was still carrying a ton of cash even after she’d gone to the bank and deposited most of her earnings. She’d kept out just enough to swing by one of her favorite secondhand stores to pick out a dress for Dagr and Bébhinn’s event the following night and another bulk case of ramen cups—chicken flavored with corn, her favorite.
The dress was stunning, sexy, and most importantly, cheap. It was black, which was the perfect shade to hide the cheaper polyester fabric. The bodice was two thick but flowy straps that created a plunging neckline and offered a peek of her breasts with an even lovelier glimpse of her side boobs. The straps thinned at the back and were secured with gold hardware.
The skirt was simple and flowed over her hips, but when she walked, a high side slit played peekaboo with her leg. She had plain black heels at home, and she knew they would work perfectly. Truly, the dress was a knockout.
It was getting dark, and she still had two more blocks to trudge before she reached the gallery. Only three days into the week, and she was smashed. She actually had other orders she needed to work on that evening, but she swore to herself that she’d go to bed at a sensible hour.
Sleeping soundly might be a stretch, though. Mags had done something at the chippers today that was so awkward and so unlike her that her muscles were still spasming from shock.
Poor Eze. Poor, poor, poor, poor, poor Eze. That man had gone to work without an inkling of how royally Mags was going to screw his world up.
He only worked at the chippers because he enjoyed the monotony of the work, which allowed him to work throughcomplex theories in algebraic geometry—she asked what that was about. Mistake.
He was an assistant professor at Trinity, but he accepted a full professor’s position at the University of Oxford and would be leaving after December. When she congratulated him, he only said the opportunity would afford him the time to enjoy other pursuits. Spoiler, they’re all math-related.
