Breslin rolls his eyes and sits back, shaking his head. Rory throws me a quick grateful glance. We’re turning the interview room into familiar ground—even Breslin’s slaggings are the type Rory has to have taken in school on a regular basis—and that’s settling him. He’s not a helpless little weenie, the way I thought from all that fidgeting and dithering at the start. It’s more complicated than that. Inside his comfort zone, Rory does fine. Take him outside it and he stops coping. I’m normally a jeans guy . . . Aislinn wasn’t his comfort zone.
