AFTER TWO long weeks of enduring Dom’s presence behind her, Lana told him to give it up. She was alone again when she saw the man standing at a corner two blocks from her favorite café. She stopped short to consider the wisdom of going on or making her opinion known by fleeing in the opposite direction. But the man’s goofy grin and the way he shifted nervously from one foot to the other told her that he would not pursue her if she told him to leave her alone. She didn’t feel particularly threatened and the street was crowded with witnesses. Lana felt relieved that this confrontation was finally here, although she intended to make short work of him. He could tell her what he wanted and then she would send him on his way.
She slowed as she approached the intersection, and the man spoke to her.
He stammered slightly, as if trying to deliver his opening line in style. “Voyez le beau femme avec de longues jambes comme la tige d’une fleur.”
With a polite smile, Lana replied in French: “Fuck off, you pervy asshole.”
He chuckled and tried again. “Classy. Vous portez le danger comme un beau vêtement.”
“Vous êtes américain?” Lana caught the slightly flat r’s, although the rest of his French was good enough.
“Is my accent that bad?” he asked, switching to English.
“No, it’s rather good.” She pounced on his mistake with glee. “But you used the masculine adjective beau instead of belle.”
“Did I?” He smiled. “My apologies. Gendered articles and nouns always trip up the ugly American, is that it?”
“You’re not so ugly that you should avoid direct sunlight.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and turned away quickly when she realized he was watching. He was hard to ignore, but Lana tried not to smile. No point in encouraging him. The traffic light changed and she started across the intersection.
“Je vous ai observée—”
“I know.” She smirked at his dismay. “I spotted you over a week ago.”
“Busted. I hoped I’d been more careful than that. I didn’t want to alarm you. I only wanted to talk to you.”
“What have we to talk about?”
He cleared his throat. “There’s an exciting aura of danger around you.”
“Oh my. Do you get a lot of action with that tired old line?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I certainly would if you did, which I doubt.”
“I wish I could paint you.”
“What color?”
Daniel laughed at that. “Any color you like. You have the most beautiful mouth I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s better.” Lana couldn’t resist smiling at that. Compliments tended to be a bit sparse in her life. “But still a bit of a bore. Couldn’t you compare them to the softness of rose petals or something more poetic?”
“I couldn’t possibly until we share a kiss and I find out for myself how soft they are.”
“Cheeky. Perhaps you’d better immortalize a different part of me, then. One you can admire from afar. An elbow, perhaps.”
“How far afar?”
“Oh, from across the street at the very least. Preferably the length of a rugby pitch.” She stood still, her hand out to keep him at a distance.
He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back. “No kiss, then?”
“No kiss.”
“May I buy you a cup of coffee, then?”
Finally, she laughed at him. “From the sublime to the mundane. That at least has the merit of novelty.”
“What?”
“The direct approach.” Lana eyed him speculatively. “Why should I let a complete stranger buy me a coffee?”
“Strangers are only friends we haven’t met yet.” He scrubbed a hand over his face when she snickered. “I know, not my best effort, but I wish you would. If you say no, I promise to go away and eat worms and you’ll never see me again.”
“Worms? Whatever for?” She started walking again, and when he tagged along, she didn’t tell him to leave her alone.
“Never mind. It’s from an old song in America. I wanted to introduce myself and—” He cut off abruptly. “And see if you like your coffee as much as I do.”
“Coffee is very important.” She stopped in front of her café. At least the proprietor Henri knew her and would have her back if this man proved difficult. “This place is quite decent. If you like, you may come in, but afterwards you’d better run along. I’m busy.”
“As long as you recommend it, I shall trust your judgment.”
He seemed to be ignoring the running along part, but he’d soon realize she meant it. He opened the door for her. Lana shivered as his hand barely skimmed her back to guide her inside, and hoped she’d managed to keep the amused, slightly bored expression she’d perfected intact. She did not want to encourage him. To her relief, the café was predictably busy. Safety in numbers.
She went to the counter and greeted the proprietor. Henri looked both startled and pleased as he darted a meaningful glance at her temporary companion. To forestall any verbal encouragement from Henri, Lana ordered rapidly in French, without giving her admirer a chance to get a word in.
With a wry smile, the man shrugged and went to claim a table.
Lana joined him at the table at the window and left her coat on when she sat down. No point letting him think this would be a friendly breakfast to linger over, although the feeling of being on a date was rather novel. She suppressed that thought instantly. That way lay danger.
“Shall I like what we’re getting?” He rested both arms on the table and slid down in his seat a little, slouching as many Americans tended to.
“You know perfectly well what I asked for. You speak French very well.”
“Also German, Spanish, Italian….” He shrugged as though his linguistic talents were almost not worth mentioning.
Actually, Lana was impressed. So few Americans attempted to master even the basics of another language. “You have me topped, then. I speak only French and English.”
“You speak French beautifully. I would have thought you were a native.” He offered his hand. “My name is Daniel Hunter.”
She ignored his hand. “Lana.”
“As in Svetlana?” Showing no sign of discomfort, he withdrew his hand. “You remind me of a black orchid. Exotic, mysterious….”
Lana shook her head. “Oh, I don’t like that.”
“But why? It’s pretty,” Daniel said. “The Chinese word for orchid is lan.”
“You speak Chinese too?”
He laughed. “Not fluently. I can ask where the bathroom is and say ‘stupid melon head’ in Mandarin, but that’s about it. An old friend of mine was originally from Taipei. Lana, Lan. It was an easy jump. Why don’t you like it? Orchids are beautiful.”
“Black orchid reminds me of the Black Dahlia, that poor girl who was murdered in Hollywood in the forties.” Lana studied his face. He was more interesting than she’d expected. How would he react to overt suspicion? Surely he was smart enough to expect hostility when approaching a perfect stranger. “Are you planning to kill me, Daniel?”
He warded off the thought with both hands. “Only with pleasure, if you’ll allow it.”
“I will certainly allow you to pay for breakfast if you wish, but that’s all.”
“I do wish, but I hope to do much more for you.”
When the proprietor arrived at this opportune moment with their coffee, rolls, and butter, Lana thanked him. “Merci, Henri.”
Henri bowed and smiled. Shifting slightly so his back was to Daniel, Henri gave her an encouraging wink before returning to his place behind the counter. Lana suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at Henri.
Daniel stirred sugar into his coffee and added cream. “If you don’t like orchids, what about Snow White, then?”
“If I must have a nickname, at least that one has been mentioned before.”
“It fits. Dark glossy hair, pale luminous skin. A face beautiful enough to steal a man’s heart out of his chest.” He took a sip of his coffee and nodded in surprised approval. “And you have at least three of the seven dwarfs tagging around after you, as well as me.”
Lana didn’t mean to giggle, but it escaped her. “You weren’t supposed to notice them.”
“They were right behind you. Hard to miss. May I ask who they are?”
“They like to think of themselves as the Three Musketeers.”
“All for one and one for all?”
“Yes, but in keeping with Snow White, I call them Happy, Bashful, and Dopey.”
Daniel laughed. “And are they?”
“Quite the opposite, actually. Happy is quite grumpy, Bashful swings from the chandeliers at his parties, and Dopey is actually, well, rather silly at that, but he’s sweet.” She leaned forward and whispered confidentially. “He thinks wearing glasses makes him look smart.” What was she thinking? This man was not a friend. Yet.
“So they’re not just following you about by chance.”
“I noticed you following me and told them. They were trying to follow you. Turnabout is fair play.”
“I admit that’s true, although I didn’t know what else to do. It’s a little difficult to engineer a meeting without knowing your name or a mutual acquaintance. Ex-boyfriends?”
Lana threw back her head and laughed at the thought. “Hardly. Let’s just say very old friends.”
“And where are the other four?”
She lifted her hand a dismissive gesture. “I had to let them go. They were such downers. Grumpy, Sleepy, Sleazy, and Spock.”
“I believe it was Sneezy, Dancer, Prancer, and Doc.” Daniel counted silently on his fingers. “Wait a sec, I seem to have muddled a few reindeer in there.”
“Whatever. I kept the good dwarfs on and kicked the rest to the curb.” Lana realized too late she was warming to Daniel and babbling her head off about things he didn’t need to know.
“So if you agreed to go out with me….”
“We would have chaperones.” She watched over the rim of her coffee cup to gauge his reaction. Most men would object strenuously to the idea of her friends trailing along. Instead he laughed and shrugged.
“They’re kind of short to be landing a punch if they’re forced to defend your honor.” Daniel grinned.
“Not at all. The family jewels are at the perfect level for a well-aimed blow, particularly from a dwarf.” Lana took wicked pleasure watching Daniel squirm in his seat. “But it’s a moot point. My honor is completely secure. I never see anyone.”
“Neither do I. So we have that in common. Always a good sign, having something in common right from the start.”
“I’m a Leo.”
“I didn’t mean it quite that way, but I should have guessed from the leonine hair. I am a Sagittarius.”
“Ah, you like the thrill of the hunt.”
Daniel looked her right in the eye, although he went scarlet in shame. “Yes, about that. I need to apologize. When I saw you and looked into your eyes….” Abruptly, Daniel abandoned that sentence and shook his head. “No excuses. I—I followed you without thinking about how you would feel about it. I didn’t mean to scare you. I regret that and I apologize, but I didn’t know how else to meet you.”
“And now that we’ve met?”
The sound of a plate shattering on the tile floor made Lana stiffen. The sudden shock of noise cut through the din of other customers. During the moment of silence before the noise resumed, the insistent hammer of Lana’s pulse roared in her ears, but she thought she covered her reaction well. When she looked at Daniel again, she thought she recognized the same expression in his eyes, although it was gone too fast to be sure.
Henri called out, “Je suis désolé, pardonnez l’accident.”
Conversation at other tables went on as Henri cleaned up. Gradually Lana’s heart rate slowed and her respiration returned to normal.
Daniel’s nostrils flared as he sucked in an audible breath, but he smiled and carried on as if he’d shown no reaction at all. “I hope you’ll accept my apology. Because if you don’t, the only way to prove myself will be to go away, and I don’t want to go away. If you say no, I’ll have to accept it and it’s worms for dinner for me.” His eyes gleamed. “But we clicked, didn’t we?”
She admired his ability to pick up the conversation after that shock. Lana studied his face for a long time before she smiled. The desire to conquer and acquire she saw from so many men seemed curiously absent. “Perhaps we did, but I’m serious. I have no interest in dating.”
“Anyone, or only me?”
“Anyone at all.”
“But you like men.”
Lana looked away from him. “Maybe so, but that need not concern you, as we shall not be putting it to the test.”
“At least I don’t bore you.”
“Only a little.” Lana covered her mouth with her hand to hide a smile, knowing her remark would irk him. Already she realized not much escaped this man. He was intelligent and sensitive. As yet, she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted, but it would definitely be safer if he disappeared from her life.
“And here I thought I was more original than that.” Daniel heaved a theatrical sigh. “Meet me for dinner tonight. You must eat anyway, why not with me? Of course it’ll be a bit crowded with all the dwarfs along, but I’m sure we can get a bigger table.”
“How lovely of you to offer to include them. And afterwards?”
“Whatever you like. We could all go to the cinema or for a group hike….”
“Or back to your place?” She couldn’t quite keep the sarcastic note from her voice. Men had one-track minds, and she wasn’t going to play along.
“Only if you beg really hard. And that’s where I draw the line on the dwarfs coming along.”
Lana laughed at the thought. “I shan’t be begging, I assure you.” She looked at her watch. “I must go. Thank you for breakfast.”
He stood up when she did. “So you won’t meet me.”
“No. Thank you for asking, but it’s much better not.” Lana picked up her bag and left. One block on, she turned to see if he was following.
He was not.
Both relieved and disappointed, Lana continued to her office and thought about Daniel Hunter all the way.
ONCE SHE entered her office building, Lana tried to banish Daniel from her mind. She was here to work and not to daydream over charming, good-looking men she would never see again. And yet the thought of Daniel managed to accompany her up to her floor and into her office. She had been alone for so long, Daniel’s attention felt as welcome as the sun peeping through the clouds on a rainy day.
Lana slid her portfolio into the space under her desk. Providing a welcome diversion, her assistant Catharine bumped the door open using a rolling rack of clothing as a battering ram. She pushed the rack into position in front of the desk, where it would be in direct view, and centered the rack precisely against the wall.
She sent a disapproving glance at the bolts of fabric stashed in random corners and the walls where photographs of models, both clothed and in various states of undress, were pinned. Catharine would have lined up every photograph perfectly, using some common denominator known only to her, if Lana had let her.
“Why all these gifts, Catharine? It’s not my birthday.”
Ignoring her wisecrack, Catharine stopped frowning when she paused to examine Lana’s suit with obvious admiration. “Thierry Mugler?”
“And the blouse is Katranzou.” Lana gestured at Catharine’s flamboyant minidress, patterned with a digital print in peacock blue, green, purple, and minor points of red. “Let me guess. Peter Pilotto around 2010?”
“Vintage. Got it on sale at a secondhand shop, and you know how I love a sale.” Catharine pointed at her feet. “What do you think of the shoes?” They were bright red and somehow managed to work with the dress.
“You do like your bright colors.” Lana would not have picked those shoes.
“And only someone with a model figure like yours can rock a cropped pant, high heel, and tight little jacket. But we match.” Catharine pointed at the swirl of mixed prints on Lana’s silk blouse. “Sometimes I wish I were as tall as you.”
“But not often.” Lana got up and circled her desk to look at the clothing on the rack.
“No, I like when my man is taller than me. Which is lucky seeing as my husband has eight inches on me in altitude.” Catharine set a stack of papers on Lana’s desk. “I’ll e-mail your schedule for today as soon as I get back to my desk. Here are the details on these garments. This is for the shoot next month, by the way. Our creative director and fearless leader Isabelle would like you to do something with…” she squinted at the ceiling and recited, “…Haute Macabre. Whatever that might be.”
“You don’t have to pretend, Catharine. You know perfectly well what it means.”
“Doesn’t really matter what it means to me. What does it mean to you? That’s more to the point, as you’re getting the big bucks for thinking these things up.”
“Ooh, well, the first thing I thought of when you mentioned it was an ominous midnight-blue forest with moody shadows and sudden shocks of light. And perhaps antlers made of dead twigs on the models. With white wigs teased up into towering mohawks. And facial jewelry. But who knows, that may change as I cogitate. What else did Isabelle say?”
“She also said on a budget.” Catharine squinted at the rack as if trying to picture what Lana described. “But Isabelle always does say that. The budget part, I mean.”
“Has she chosen a photographer?”
“Pavlo Marsh.”
“Excellent. He’ll be able to pull off any concept I come up with and add a few surrealistic touches of his own.” Lana slid the garments to one end and started to examine the details of each dress.
“Let me know when you decide on accessories and I’ll set up a spreadsheet for each outfit.” Catharine rubbed her hands together with anticipation. “And then we go shopping. Très fun!”
“Opulent, isn’t it?” Lana indicated a dress of gray-blue satin. Swirls of various-sized beads arranged on the fabric in a flowing pattern reminded her of pebbles gleaming in a brook. She picked up the next dress and turned the hanger to watch the play of light like sunbeams dancing on rippling water. “I’m beginning to sense a water theme here. Borrowing accessories from designers isn’t precisely shopping.”
“It’s cheaper. You get all the fun of shopping without emptying your own bank account and you don’t get bored with them in the long run. The hard part is making sure I return everything to the right designer.”
“That’s the kind of challenge that makes your eyes sparkle. You excel in it, which is why designers are always happy to see your face when I send you out begging.”
“Thank you for noticing.” Catharine went to the open door and then turned back. “You’re looking more cheerful than usual this morning. Don’t, or rather do, tell me you finally met someone.”
Lana held the dress in front of her face to hide a smile. “I did, but it’s not what you think. Someone kindly bought me a coffee this morning. However, I shall probably never see him again.”
Catharine pounced. “Him? You met a man? Finally!”
“Catharine, don’t make me into a project. I know you’re hideously organized and once you set your mind to something, nothing can stop you until you achieve your goal. But I know you and your plans, and I don’t—” Lana stopped talking because Catharine was laughing.
“Lana, you are ma petite chou except on this one subject. I didn’t say one word about fixing you up, did I? All I asked was whether you met someone. Don’t worry, doll, I don’t see you as a project.” Catharine went to the door and shut it gently. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful, and so smart and stylish and funny. I wish you had someone to take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, you and your little friends you call the dwarfs, but I didn’t mean you need a caretaker. You love your job, but that’s all you do. You stay late, you work weekends—I wish you enjoyed yourself more.”
“I do love my work.” Lana kept it light even though Catharine hit a sore spot. “So I’ll just keep on enjoying that and working with you.”
“Work isn’t all there is to life. You should—but never mind. I shouldn’t tell you what you should do.” Catharine opened the door again. “If you take my advice and it turns out wrong, you’ll blame me, but I wish you had someone.”
Perhaps the chance meeting with Daniel had affected her more than she thought. Lana didn’t mean to spill over, but the words burst out spontaneously. “Maybe we don’t all get a happy ending, have you ever thought of that? Maybe enjoying my work is as good as it gets. And it’s pretty terrific to be going on with. How many people get to do what they love?”
“Absolutely, many people get stuck in jobs they loathe and they don’t get their knight in shining armor either. Plus, you’re great at what you do. A genius!” Catharine brightened up at that.
Lana laughed. “Sure, I’m a genius.”
“I am a glass-half-full girl myself. And at least if you’re not dating, he’s not cheating on you, so there’s a silver lining in every cloud.”
Lana laughed, although perhaps she shouldn’t have. Clearly Catharine had some feelings about cheating. Whether it happened to her or a friend, Lana didn’t feel she could ask when she kept her own personal life out of the office. Cheating had never been a problem for Lana. If one didn’t date, one didn’t get cheated on. “Thank you, Catharine. We’ll look at the world through rose-colored glasses together.”
“Except they’re pink! I hate pink.” With that Catharine left Lana to gain inspiration from the garments on the rack.
Lana picked up another dress, a teal halter from Naeem Khan, with delicate silver beading covering every inch. On a hanger it didn’t look like much, but she knew exactly how it would hang on the right model. She had a sudden vision of herself wearing this dress and dancing in Daniel’s arms. Hastily she hung up the dress and slammed the door shut on that image. Where had that come from? It had been years since she last danced, and then it had been a folk dance at school in gym class. Ridiculous.
Lana had work to do and a deadline to meet. She didn’t have time to swan around all day daydreaming about dancing with a man she didn’t even know. He’d probably step on her feet anyway.
THAT EVENING, after Lana locked the door to her flat behind her, she took in a deep breath and savored it. The faint hint of coffee and wood floor polish smelled like home. Her flat was the one place she could take off the mask and be at peace, free from expectations. No one ever saw her as she truly was when she retreated here.
Tonight Lana would meet her friends for dinner, but not until later. She had enough time to relax and change before going out to meet them.
Her sanctuary was lovely, everything she’d dreamed of long ago in another country and in another life.
Although the living room was small, Lana had decorated with several shades of ivory and cream to make it feel larger, with an occasional punch of bold color: a turquoise velvet chair, several brilliant red pillows on the couch, and fresh flowers in a glass vase. She bent to inhale the scent of the roses she’d bought for herself.
Ornate iron railings guarded a balcony too small to step out onto, but when the windows were open, the room felt much larger. The late winter air made it too chilly to open them, but the afternoon light streaming in and the view of gray slate rooftops still made her breath catch.
Lana crossed to the window and took her place behind the curtains. The few passersby on the street below were busy with their own concerns and hurried past without glancing up.
Of course Daniel wasn’t there. He’d apologized for following her, and Lana believed him, but she was almost disappointed. Since that morning, she’d progressed from the dancing fantasy to passionate kissing despite her best efforts to erase him from her thoughts. In her imagination he was a great kisser. The color of his eyes had reminded her of light shimmering on the ocean. His hands…. But she had to pull herself together. She’d told Daniel to go away and he had. The end of another incident that meant nothing and led nowhere. In the meantime, she had a party to get ready for.
Lana went to the black lacquer table that served as both desk and dining table, and turned on the television set to get the weather report so she could decide what to wear.
She kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the couch to rub her feet. The newscaster droned on about some human-interest story in which Lana had no interest.
The mirror over the fireplace reflected the honeyed light of the setting sun into the room, lulling her into a sensuous awareness of her own body. Lana hadn’t permitted herself to think about sex all day, especially with Daniel, but here she sat, once again dreaming about going to bed with a man she barely knew. Far better to think about her outfit for tonight than pine for someone she couldn’t have.
The monotone chant of the newscaster must have lulled Lana into a doze, because she awoke with a start to a familiar voice speaking in English. Raising her head from the back of the couch, she darted a glance around the flat in confusion.
The voice was coming from her television.
“…marriage only between a man and a woman. Same-sex couples have no legal right to marry. The Same Sex Couples Act of 2013 has forced the state to recognize this morally repugnant union, and it must be repealed. This law can only lead to the inevitable corruption of our children and the violation of the rights of Christians. What will come next? Marriage between family members, minors, or perhaps even other species?”
The camera cut to the newscaster, who continued in French. “And that was from a speech by Conservative British MP Barrett Reynolds, who continues his crusade to repeal—”
Lana got up and turned the TV off. “Pompous arse,” she muttered. She went to close the curtains, but not before she checked the street once more. Daniel still wasn’t there. As he said he wouldn’t be.
Impatient with herself for continuing to dwell on the forbidden subject, Lana checked her watch. “Better get ready. Fuck, I’m going barmy, talking out loud to myself. Pretty soon I’ll acquire a cat or five and become a loony old cat lady.”
Lana went to the bedroom and stood before the mirrored doors of her wardrobe. She removed her clothing slowly, putting away each item as soon as she took it off.
When he was naked and Roland again for the moment, he examined his nude body with detachment. Slim and pale, his body was smooth except for the black curls at the root of his cock. Roland twisted his long hair up on top of his head and then let it fall again to brush over his bare shoulders. Roland shivered at the light touch. He could see the beauty of his male self here in the privacy of his room, but he dared not go outside without his disguise. Instead of a ridiculously feminine boy who became a target virtually wherever he went, he could instead present as a beautiful woman with a secret known only to three friends. Roland no longer knew himself whether he was addicted to dressing this way or drawn to the safety the camouflage afforded him, but he was clear on the fact that this was part of who he was.
After he pinned up his hair, Roland went into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Soaping himself all over, he leaned against the wall to give his cock a few gentle strokes. Immediately he was lost in the fantasy of Daniel’s hands caressing him. Roland stopped touching himself and leaned against the wall, eyes closed, breathing hard. Abruptly he reached for the faucet and turned off the hot water, flinching as the cold made his cock shrivel. So much for that.
When he tired of shivering, he turned off the water and stepped out. He wrapped himself in a towel and rubbed vigorously. Standing in front of the mirror again, Roland smiled at himself and flicked a quick salute in temporary farewell. Time to become Lana again.
He picked out a bra and matching thong. The delicate silk was cool to the touch but warmed quickly against his skin. Finding consolation in his clothing as usual, Roland admired the sheen of aqua silk against his creamy skin as he modeled the underwear. He rubbed his fingers over the triangular cups until his nipples were taut against the silk, casting little shadows underneath each nub. His cock started to fill the crotch of his thong, but he stopped himself. Not thinking about Daniel. Not yet. Or maybe ever.
Tonight he would have to tell the dwarfs about meeting Daniel.
Roland never should have agreed to that coffee. Daniel was very handsome. So often the good-looking ones, with the careless entitlement that came of being objects of desire themselves, demanded a perfection Roland could never deliver. However, this man seemed more complex. Intriguing. Or maybe Roland was just deluding himself. Daniel was a man.
Deliberately shaking off the memory of their conversation that morning, he continued to dress. Roland pulled on skinny jeans and a fitted black top with rhinestone clips, and big, floofy sleeves. He held on to the wardrobe to slip into black suede boots embroidered in scarlet, knowing Colin at least would appreciate them. He sat down at the dressing table to apply makeup. His skin was so smooth he needed no foundation, but he painted on eye shadow, liner, and mascara with care. Roland brushed his brows into flawless arches and then leaned forward to apply lipstick. After finishing off with a dusting of powder, she examined her face and smiled. Roland had disappeared and Lana looked back from the mirror again.
She went to the wardrobe for a leather jacket. She twisted from side to side in front of the mirror to check her silhouette from every angle before giving a nod of approval. Once dressed, and with her tall, slender figure, Lana looked much like any model in Paris. Flat-chested, but so many models were. Walking a runway would have been her ultimate dream, but to her regret, she’d never had the courage to try it. And now, with her hard-won confidence, Lana was too old at twenty-seven to start.
Lana picked up a leather satchel and slung it over her shoulder. She turned out the lights as she went through the flat. She hesitated inside the door and braced herself to face the world again. And even worse, the dwarfs. Lana couldn’t imagine they would exactly welcome her news.