Corruption

by Jessica Shirvington

  I had to believe he was right. And for once in my life, instead of trying to think three steps ahead of the game, I was going to do something that went against my nature. And would no doubt piss off Gus.

  I was going to trust him.

  The taxi pulled to a stop outside The Mellon. A black-and-white chequered carpet led the way up the granite stairs of the imposing, temple-like structure. My eyes took in the six colossal columns, the central focus of the purple and green lightshow.

  ‘Take us to the laneway entrance at the back of the building,’ Quentin instructed the driver.

  When the taxi pulled to a stop, Quentin moved swiftly, taking my hand and pulling me from the car. As soon as the taxi took off, the door at the back of the building opened and Ivy Knight stood before us.

  I flinched, backing up a step. Quentin tightened his hold on my hand.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.

  Quentin grinned. ‘You said you wanted to come with me to meet Morris?’

  I nodded cautiously.

  ‘Then you had better get dressed.’

  It was only then that I noticed the outfit Ivy was wearing – she was in a full ball gown.

  Suddenly I felt self-conscious. Here I was in my torn-up Target jeans, my military boots still covered in dried mud, and a crappy out-of-shape faded black T-shirt. My face was covered in bruises. My hoodie was the only thing I had going for me, and not because of the state of it, but because it hid the hair I’d hacked away and hadn’t bothered to fix up. And now, it was also hiding my blush.

  I could only imagine how refreshing Ivy looked to him.

  I glared at Quentin. ‘I can’t believe this,’ I mumbled.

  Quentin’s smirk returned. ‘Is this your jealous side?’

  My glare turned glacial. He was enjoying this way too much.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ I snapped.

  Quentin shrugged and Ivy crossed her arms patiently.

  ‘In order for you to be here we needed help, Maggie. You can’t have it all your way,’ Quentin explained.

  I looked in each direction down the back laneway. I couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean no one was watching. We couldn’t stay out in the open like this and we both knew it.

  But I just couldn’t bring myself to go in there with his girlfriend. I took a step back and turned around when Quentin suddenly spoke. ‘She knew!’

  I paused, but didn’t turn. ‘She knew it was all a lie. From the moment I went back to school and struck things up with her again, she knew it was just a cover. She doesn’t feel that way about me anymore, Maggie. She just helped me.’

  I swallowed, still not turning.

  ‘He’s telling you the truth,’ Ivy said, speaking for the first time. ‘And if you want to make this ruse happen tonight, you’re going to have to get over your issues and hurry the hell up.’

  Damn it. She was right. I was being petty.

  I could have pushed – I wanted to know more – but something in me stopped me asking any questions. Instead, I gave a small nod and turned, walking straight past Quentin and through the back door Ivy held open.

  Twelve

  Ivy walked us through a series of hallways, which appeared to be used only by service staff. She showed Quentin into a bathroom first. ‘Everything you need is in there. Morris said he will try to get to you in the ballroom.’

  Quentin nodded. ‘Thanks, Ivy. I know what you risked, helping us.’ His face was genuine and I could see they shared a bond. I didn’t want to be jealous, but I couldn’t help it. So when Ivy nodded and walked on, motioning for me to follow, I did so keeping my head down.

  But Quentin clearly wasn’t willing to accept that and he grabbed my arm as I passed, pulling my ear to his mouth.

  His words were whispered. ‘I already told you. There is only one thing I know for certain, Maggie. And a lot I’m still trying to figure out. But Ivy Knight is not even part of the equation.’

  I felt my cheeks redden. Quentin released my arm and moved into the bathroom, leaving me to follow Ivy. I still wasn’t sure what his one thing was, but the more I heard about it, the more I damn well wanted to know!

  Ivy led me down another hallway and then into what looked like an office. As soon as she closed and locked the door, she turned to me, looking me up and down with a sigh. ‘Strip,’ she instructed as she reached around and started to unbutton her ball gown.

  ‘Ah … sorry … I … what?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘You are at a ball.’ She spoke as if talking to a simpleton. ‘You need to get into the ballroom unnoticed. There are a lot of people looking for you. And Quin.’ She batted her eyes at me. ‘Strip.’

  Okaaaay. She was nuts. But I did as I was told.

  When she was down to her underwear, she passed me her gown and grabbed my jeans and T-shirt. I cringed on her behalf.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered, seeing her pull on my rags.

  She shrugged. ‘I’m getting the better deal. That corset hurts like a bitch.’

  I almost smiled as I fingered the delicate material. The dress was beautiful. Not me at all. But I could appreciate it wasn’t your ordinary dress.

  ‘I arrived early to help Morris set up so I’ve already done a few circuits of the room and talked to the people who would recognise me regardless of the mask. Once you get your mask and you go out there in this dress …’ She crouched to where a bag was hidden behind the desk. ‘And this wig,’ she said, pulling a long platinum-blonde wig from the bag. ‘They’ll think you’re me. Just avoid talking to people where you can.’

  ‘You don’t already have the mask?’

  Ivy shook her head. ‘They’re alarmed. Once they are on, they can’t be taken off unless it’s to hand it in for the night. You’re going to have to do that part yourself.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, trying not to let my nerves go wild.

  I took the wig from her outstretched hand and, still standing there in nothing but my underwear, jammed it on my head and stared at myself in the mirror.

  ‘Well, that looks ridiculous,’ I mumbled.

  Ivy snickered. ‘It won’t when we have the rest of you put together. Don’t worry, I brought supplies,’ she said, now pulling out a cosmetics bag.

  I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering how this was all going to work. I’d filled out a lot since leaving my cell, but still, my cheekbones were much more defined than before and the large almond-shaped eyes I’d inherited from Mom now seemed alien-large. I huffed, increasingly frustrated with my deficiency in all things beauty related. Gus would have looked better in this dress.

  Ivy ignored me. She set up a table of makeup and pulled out a chair. ‘Sit, we only have a few minutes.’

  I looked at Ivy who was dangling a pair of high heels in her hands.

  ‘I hope we’re a similar size,’ she said. ‘Otherwise it could be a painful night.’

  I narrowed my eyes. ‘So Quentin just asked you to help, and you did?’

  ‘He said there might be consequences,’ she said with a no-biggie shrug. She kneeled and buckled me into the shoes. They were a perfect fit. ‘But he’s always been a touch dramatic.’

  ‘Not this time,’ I murmured, my mind already contemplating the ‘consequences’ for Ivy – and for us.

  ‘I know what I’m doing,’ she said. And though she couldn’t possibly have known what she was doing – not really – I got the distinct impression that even if she had, it wouldn’t have changed her decision. I tilted my head, confused, as I watched her hold up different shades of foundation to my face.

  ‘You really knew all this time?’ I said. ‘You’ve really been helping him? Knowing that he and I … that we are … were …’

  ‘Together?’ she suggested with a raised brow. When I just stared at her, doing everything I could to look tough and not give away the fact I was tongue-tied over a guy, she lifted a shoulder and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. ‘We’ve been friends forever. We kind of got thrown together, you
know. “The high-school couple.” But when the ratings went wrong the first time … I realised I wasn’t all that disappointed. I love Quin, but I was never in love with him. I’ve missed having him as my friend.’

  ‘And now you’re here, helping me? You do realise M-Corp are hunting me? That if you’re caught helping me, you could be in serious danger?’

  She nodded. ‘But from what I understand, you guys need all the help you can get.’ She gestured for me to look up and started efficiently applying makeup to my face and eyes. ‘All I know is that you and Quentin – and by that, I mean mostly you – have made a lot of very important people very upset. But I’ve seen enough in the last month to know a few things: the first is that Quentin was followed everywhere by guards who frightened him, guards who were sent by his own family. In my book, that’s wrong.’ Instantly, my opinion of Ivy flew up a few notches.

  ‘Secondly, whatever’s going on between the two of you, I’ve never seen Quentin like this before. The way he talked about you …’ She half laughed. ‘I’ve never seen him so angry or desperate or passionate about anything or anyone before.’

  ‘You realised you just used the words angry and desperate? It’s not exactly a glowing report.’

  She shrugged. ‘You hear angry. But to me, it’s the type of emotion that’s only born from the kind of intense and crazy love most people never get to experience, so …’

  I crossed my arms. ‘So you just risked your own future and safety to help Quentin and me?’ I asked, not bothering to hide my disbelief.

  ‘He’s my friend, Maggie. And maybe you need one too.’

  We stared at each other as the seconds ticked by. Part of me knew this could be a trap and yet, watching Ivy, I felt nothing but confusion. Because as much as I should have run screaming, I found myself staring at the dress, the shoes, and then Ivy, who looked back at me with honesty in her pretty eyes.

  I picked up a hairbrush and held it out. ‘Any chance you know how to fix my hair under this wig?’ I asked, embarrassed that I cared.

  She nodded and took the brush. But as soon as she removed my wig, her expression became uncertain.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  She bit down on her thumbnail. ‘We might need a pair of scissors too.’

  For the first time since Ivy had opened the back door, I cracked a smile.

  Twenty minutes later I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the back of the office door, trying to find something familiar about the girl standing before me. I scrunched up my face. ‘I don’t know if I can do this,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Of course you can,’ Ivy said, not missing a beat as she continued to adjust the wig that made me a platinum blonde. Just like her. ‘You’re wearing the dress that many people have already seen me in. Your hair is …’ she glanced up, her nose twitching, ‘as good a match as possible with a wig. And we’re roughly the same height and weight,’ she surmised.

  ‘I only had to get locked up and starved to death,’ I joked.

  Ivy’s hands dropped from my hair and her mouth fell open. ‘I … I didn’t know …’

  I flashed her a grin. ‘Don’t sweat it.’

  When her face remained frozen in pity, my grin turned to a glare. ‘Ivy,’ I said sternly. ‘I said, don’t sweat it.’

  Finally she snapped out of it and nodded. ‘Okay. I just, I don’t know … How are you so … okay?’

  I adjusted the high heels, noting I wouldn’t be able to run for shit in them. ‘I’m okay because I have to be.’

  ‘And what about when that technique doesn’t work anymore?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘People can shut things off all they want, but sooner or later it catches up. Eventually you can’t stop it.’

  I gritted my teeth. ‘Thanks for the tip, Ivy. But I’m just fine,’ I said, refusing to acknowledge that I feared the exact same thing. Sometimes it felt like I was holding on by the tiniest of threads. But what would it help to admit it?

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Ivy threw back, surprising me with her boldness. Her expression softened. ‘But lucky for you, Quin is one of the good ones. If you let him in, he’ll be there for you.’

  I bit my lip.

  ‘It’s not as simple as that. Quentin and I are …’

  ‘Complicated?’

  I nodded.

  ‘So uncomplicate it.’

  My eyes flashed up to hers. But I found myself lost for words when I saw her genuine smile. And suddenly my selfish concerns turned to guilt. Ivy was honest and kind. She was a true friend to Quentin whereas I had not been. She was from a powerful family, she was intelligent and beautiful and had the world at her feet – and still, she was here lending me her clothes, her identity, to help her friend.

  ‘Thank you, Ivy,’ I said.

  When she looked confused, I gestured to myself. ‘For helping me get ready. I couldn’t have pulled this off without you.’ I threw a hand towards her cosmetics bag. ‘I didn’t even realise what half of those makeup things were for.’

  Her expression morphed into a smile. ‘You’re welcome.’ She moved to the door and peeked into the hall. ‘Okay. I’m going to tell you how to get to the mask room. I would take you there, but …’ She looked down at herself and I almost burst out laughing. She looked ridiculous in my torn-up jeans and hoodie.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ I asked.

  Ivy shrugged. ‘A night at home with a movie is well overdue for me.’

  I bit my lip, overwhelmed that she could be this kind to me when there was seemingly no personal gain. ‘Just point me in the right direction. I’ll take it from here.’

  Following Ivy’s instructions, I kept my head down and approached one of the waitstaff dressed in a white tuxedo. When he didn’t raise any alarm bells, I requested he escort me to the mask room. The man gave a curt nod and led me towards a large set of open double doors. He didn’t say anything so I just nodded and entered the room, knowing that the sooner my face was covered, the safer I would be.

  Inside the large sitting room I paused to watch a group of women collecting their purses and waited for them to make their way out. There was an excited bounce in their steps and they giggled and whispered as they hurried out to the ballroom. I pressed my lips together, wondering fleetingly what that would be like. What my life would’ve been like if my father had been a different man – a kinder person. And then I wondered what my life would’ve been like if I had been a kinder person too.

  ‘Well, you have perfect timing. That group of ladies have left you the room to yourself,’ came a gentle voice. I looked up to see a raven-haired woman in a long apricot dress that flowed like a water fountain from her waist. The effect of the shimmering material was remarkable. ‘I’m Eva and I will be selecting your mask this evening.’

  I nodded, avoiding any further introductions. This didn’t seem to bother Eva, who simply smiled and took a small step back. ‘Now, why don’t you take a seat and we’ll try a couple of these masks on you.’ She gestured to one of the large swivel chairs. ‘I think I have one that will go beautifully with that dress,’ she murmured as she studied a tall stand adorned with a dazzling array of masks. ‘Here it is!’

  She turned to me, gracefully fitting the mask to my face and moving behind me to fix the ties and pin it to my hair. As she went about her work, I heard another person being escorted into the room and instructed to sit several spaces down from me. When Eva’s hand slipped at one point, I felt the wig shift slightly. She felt it too.

  I froze.

  Time slowed down.

  After what felt like a small eternity, she leaned close to me, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. ‘Tonight is all about discretion, darling. Your secret is safe with me,’ she whispered. ‘Let me just …’ She readjusted the wig and inserted a few extra pins. ‘There. That will hold better now.’

  I swallowed nervously. ‘Thank you.’

  She spun the chair around. ‘And we are all done! What do you think of the mask? Everyone has
a right to refuse twice before their selection is locked in,’ she explained.

  I gazed at myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. But, of course, it wasn’t my reflection I was looking at. My heart sped up and I felt my M-Band vibrate with a pulse alert. Everyone was staring at me – including the other guest in the room. I had to pull it together and get out of there.

  Get a grip, Maggie!

  My palms were tingling with fear and the wig suddenly felt impossibly hot.

  ‘Well?’ Eva asked.

  I licked my lips.

  ‘I think it’s breathtaking,’ came the familiar voice from the other end of the room.

  Slowly, I turned to face Eliza Mercer, who looked like royalty in a scarlet-red gown.

  Our eyes locked and I was sure she was looking right at me, beyond the mask and hair. She knew it was me.

  ‘But that’s no surprise. You have a memorable flare for fashion.’

  I glanced down at my ball gown. Eliza’s comment made no sense – I felt ridiculous in Ivy’s lime-green dress with its enormous full skirt. But then I flashed back to the one other time I’d met Eliza Mercer – at the annual Mercer Ball when I’d unwittingly worn a vintage black wedding dress.

  My M-Band vibrated against my wrist in a steady thrum of alarm. Every sound was amplified – the sound of laughter beyond the doors, of glasses clinking and high heels hitting the marble floors.

  ‘It is a beautiful mask,’ Eva said from behind me. ‘But if you prefer another, I have some other options I think would work.’

  Eliza stood and took a few steps towards me, her face breaking into a quizzical smile. ‘Ivy? That is you, isn’t it?’

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pulled myself together just in time to nod. ‘Yes,’ I said as quickly as possible. I turned back towards the mirror, studying the mask properly for the first time. The base was charcoal grey, the eye area encrusted with what looked like diamonds. On the right side, a curtain of clear gems hung down so that it looked like I was crying diamonds. It really was extraordinary.