Page 96 of The Matchmaker
“But you have such a pretty neck,” she pouts, but before I can respond tothatcompliment, Gemma appears out of the back room, stealing both our attention.
“What?” she asks, and then glances down at her very bright, very red dress that can only be described as terrible. “Oh. Right.”
“Is that a joke dress?” Nush asks. “Are you playing a prank on me?”
“I was just seeing if it fit,” she mutters, tugging at the bodice. “I’m not going to wear it.”
“Then why do you still have it on?”
“Because I can’t reach the damn zipper, Anushka! What do you want from me?”
Nush abandons me in my chair as she goes to help Gemma, giving the zip a firm tug to free her.
“You should wear the blue dress,” Nush says. “It’s your best color.”
“It also shows off half my boobs,” she grumbles.
“Is Noah coming tonight?” I ask, as she pushes the thing down to her ankles.
“He’s staying at a friend’s house,” she says. “But he’ll be at the picnic tomorrow. What now?” she adds, when Nush and I share a look.
“Why’s he staying at a friend’s house?” I ask.
“In case I’m back late,” she says, and Nush starts to smile.
“Late because of your date?”
Gemma shoots her a warning look before turning her accusing gaze toward me. “You could tell me his name, you know.”
“Of your match?” I shrug. “I don’t know who it is,” I say truthfully. “Granny matched you. Plus, you’re not supposed to find out until everyone arrives so no one looks each other up.”
Nush scoffs. “I looked mine up.”
“What? How?”
“I may have had a sneak peek at the list,” she says innocently. “Perks of the position.”
“What position?”
“Executive Assistant. Put on the blue dress,” she adds to Gemma, who’s striding back to bathroom in her underwear.
“I’m going with the green one.”
“The blue one’s better,” Nush sings, but her attention is back on me, as she stabs me in the head with another pin. “He’s very handsome,” she says to me, and the smile on her face wipes away my annoyance.
“I’m glad you approve,” I say, but whatever excitement I might have felt for her is lost in the usual bout of nerves I get when I think about the festival.
Nush notices immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just thought I would have heard from Glenmill by now. Do you think that it’s bad that we haven’t?”
Nush doesn’t answer at first. She doesn’t answer for so long that I think she never will. And then she picks up a comb, and starts dividing my hair into sections, her expression thoughtful as she focuses on her work.
“Did you know you were the first person I met in Ennisbawn?”
“I was?”
She nods. “I was searching for somewhere outside the city to open a salon and had it narrowed down to here and Rossbridge. It was a no-brainer on paper. Rossbridge was prettier. It was also bigger. I’d have more clients, more space. But the moment I stepped out of my car that first day, I felt like I belonged here. It was just one of things, you know? Like it suddenly became easier to breathe. But I made my decision when I met you. I went into Kelly’s, and I think we spoke for a total of thirty seconds before you offered to give up your break and show me around. In any other village this size, I’d be forever known as a blow-in, but I’ve never been made to feel anything less than welcome here.” She twists a clip into place, and parts my hair. “This is my home,” she says. “I made it my home, and that’s why I fight for it like I do. I want to save the street, and the pub, and everything I can. But at the end of the day, I know they can take a sledgehammer to the whole area, and it wouldn’t matter. Not really. Because Ennisbawn is more than some boundary map. It’s people. It’s you and it’s me and everyone else. And they can’t take that from us. So, screw Glenmill. Screw Jack Doyle and screw that hotel. Tonight isn’t about them. It’s about us. So promise me you won’t think about petitions or interviews or whether or not this is working. Promise me you’ll have some fun tonight.”
