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Irish on the Rocks

Page 8

by Magan Vernon


  She raised an eyebrow. “There is absolutely nothing remotely comical in those forms.”

  “I’ll have you know this passage about…” I looked at the screen, reading the first line that popped up, “‘precatory and concluding activities will constitute compensable hours…’ Okay, blast, that isn’t funny at all.”

  “I knew it. You act pissed off at him all the time, but you still took this job and by the way you two look at each other…”

  “You’re doing that rambly thing again,” I muttered, trying to be nice but wanted to know where she was going with her statement.

  She shook her head slowly. “What I mean to say is, I guess it’s just good to see that you’re happy here. Not many assistants walk out of here with anything other than a groan and a name for Jack that I won’t repeat out loud.”

  “I’m just happy to have this job.” I said.

  She sighed, rubbing her hands down her legs. “Look, it’s probably not my place to say, but I’d kind of consider us friends. Maybe I’m overstepping.”

  She paused and tilted her head slightly.

  I nodded slowly. “Yes to friends.”

  She let out a deep breath, running her palms along the hem of her dress. “Well, as a friend, I should tell you that Jack usually isn’t this nice to his assistants. Or invites them to breakfast.”

  I didn’t tell her about our visit to the vet that interrupted our meeting, though she may have noticed I was glancing at my phone a lot more often. I made sure to check in with my mum and make sure Jane stayed out of the plants.

  “It was a meeting. It’s a job. I did what he told me to do.”

  He made it seem more like breakfast with a friend, even complimenting me then helping with Jane, which was more than I could have asked from anyone. Ever.

  But I couldn’t let that cloud my judgement and get soft for the guy.

  Even if him getting soft for my Janey was the very thing that kept melting my heart.

  Damn him and being sweet to my dog.

  “I’m just saying, it’s nice to see Jack and you are getting along. Whether it’s work or something else.”

  I was aching to talk to someone about what my mother had said. To have someone else dissect what the bloody hell was going on. Was the marriage contract real? If it was, was that why Jack was talking and being so nice to me? And why hadn’t Sean told me about it?

  Who would know better than someone who was married to a Murphy?

  “I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m just trying to get settled in Dublin,” I muttered, still trying not to think about his piercing blue eyes and the way I wanted more than just his gaze on me.

  Fallon shrugged. “Okay.”

  We were silent for a few more beats before she smiled and turned toward me again. “Hey, Connor has a meeting at five, so how about joining me for dinner after work at the Murphy’s downstairs?”

  I cleared my throat. “The pub? I thought that was just used as part of the museum not an actual, still-in-operation pub.”

  “Well, it’s the first Murphy’s Pub location that they keep open next door to the museum on the first floor. I mean I think technically it’s the second location since I heard the first location was in the basement of a funeral home or something.”

  I widened my eyes and Fallon waved her hands in front of her.

  “If you’d rather have something fancier I’m sure I can look up a British-type restaurant for you,” she stammered.

  I shook my head. “No, no. I didn’t even know that was a real working pub and thought you might be sick of that type of fare after working here.”

  She laughed. “One would think, but I guess all those years of undergrad then my master’s conditioned me to live off beer and fries, or chips as you call them. And it’ll be on Murphy’s tab so if you really want to grind Jack’s gears, order whatever you want.”

  I laughed, liking Fallon’s quick wit. And it would be nice not to have to sit alone in the flat, eating jam and crackers for dinner. Maybe I could even bring something back for Jane and check on her real quick before dinner. “Okay let me just message my mum to make sure my dog is okay then I should be good to go.”

  “Great.”

  …

  After a phone call to my mum, and a long talk with the maid about Jane and her medication, I finally headed downstairs with Fallon for dinner.

  Strolling into the pub, we made a beeline for the wooden bar and sat down on one of the few empty stools. It may have been a weeknight, but that didn’t stop almost every booth and seat from holding a patron with a pint.

  “What’ll it be, girls?” the beefcake male bartender asked us.

  “A pint of Guinness for me,” Fallon replied.

  “White wine, please,” I answered. I didn’t plan on having a drink, but since Fallon ordered, I figured I would, too. I just couldn’t take the dark beer everyone here drank.

  Even though other people were waiting, the bartender poured our drinks, setting them in front of us. The Irish were known for their beer and whiskey and definitely not this watered-down stuff they called wine. But I drank anyway, trying to forget about my moment with Jack at the vet.

  Why was he getting to me like this?

  If it was true what Mum said about the clause in the will, he needed a wife for the company. Not a girl with dog problems and commitment issues.

  Fallon plucked a menu from the condiment caddy, handing me the worn laminated paper. “I think I have this thing memorized, but you probably need a minute.”

  Thankful for the break in my thoughts, I glanced over the old English text, thinking I should go for the farmhouse salad, but it was hard to turn down a good fish and chips.

  After Fallon and I ordered the same thing, she turned to me, looking over her pint. “Now that we’re away from the office, I have to bring it up. The history with you and Jack? I’m really curious about it.”

  “Bloody hell,” I muttered, taking a big swig of my drink. I was going to need something a lot stronger if I was going to talk about my childhood.

  Not that any of it was terrible. I was just like any other kid at boarding school with parents who shipped her off whenever they could. But my history with Jack was something even I had trouble putting into words.

  She raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”

  I shook my head. “Not bad, per say, but we were two different people.”

  I took another gulp of my drink. “I’ve known him since I was just a wee girl. Sean and I became fast friends, but Jack was a different story. He was always the brooding, popular heartthrob the girls fawned over. I was invisible. The punk girl who would rather read or listen to music with Sean than go to a sporting event. Hell, he didn’t even recognize me at first at the gala, and before I knew it, you’re emailing me to apply for a job and now here we are.”

  She smirked. “Obviously you made an impression on him. From one former invisible girl to another, I can say that the Murphy men do like women who know what they want and go for it. Some call us headstrong or bitchy. Take your pick.”

  “I think my father said the same thing about my mother during their divorce battles. Well the latter,” I muttered.

  “Shit. Sorry. My parents have called each other all sorts of names. Still don’t know why they’re together, actually. Probably too cheap for a divorce.” Fallon shrugged, but there was something else that said a whole other story behind her gaze.

  But I wasn’t going to get into that. Just as much as I was sure she didn’t want to hear about how my parents’ marriage and divorce made me think matrimony and love were bollocks.

  I took a drink of my wine then decided to try and put the topic back to her and my curiosity was piqued about how her and Connor actually did get together.

  “I didn’t think either of us would be a Murphy boys’ type, no offense, and not that I’m interested either,” I said quickly, setting my glass down, which was soon filled again by the bartender.

  “Guys may pretend or eve
n think they want the easy girls who throw themselves at them. But when it comes down to it, they all want someone who will challenge them.”

  Her gaze trailed across the bar and then her entire face lit up. “Like for instance, right now, with Jack’s current date who is boring the hell out of him.”

  My breath caught in my throat as I gasped involuntarily, following Fallon’s eyes to a small table where Jack was seated with a redhead across from him.

  Fallon was right. I may not have interacted with Jack much these past few years, but I knew the tapping of his fingers and the constant glances at his phone were never a good sign.

  Probably the only reason he was still sitting across from the woman was because he’d do anything to get the CEO title. To keep Murphy’s Pub. That made a twinge of guilt hit hard in my gut.

  He may have been a wanker at times, but he really did care about his family and friends. He would do what he could for them. Including boring dates and paying for his assistant’s dog’s medical bills.

  “I think I should go save him,” I said without thinking and leaping from my seat.

  Fallon’s eyes widened. “What? Are we a superhero duo now?”

  I looked at her then back across the bar where Jack’s blue eyes flitted to mine. A small smirk crossed his lips, my own quirking into a grin in return.

  What the hell?

  My body pulled me like a magnet drawn to him. I practically floated around the old wooden bar until I was standing right beside his table, staring between him and the photo on the wall behind him.

  The redhead was chattering nonstop in a giggly voice about something, but my focus stayed on Jack.

  The guy was making my knees weak and I held on to the empty chair next to me, trying not to think about what that meant.

  And now that I was in front of him, I had no idea what to do or say.

  The redhead looked up, furrowing her eyebrows with a scowl. “Um, can we help you?”

  I swallowed hard, licking my lips before turning to fully face Jack, and putting a hand on my hip. The first thing that came to my mind was ridiculous, but it was a game I’d played more than once with Sean when he had a lousy date in school. I figured the oldest brother could use the same escape plan.

  “Jackie Poo, you didn’t tell me you were leaving the office right after work. Like, I looked everywhere for you and then poof, you’re gone.”

  Jack’s smile turned into a grin as if he knew exactly how this game went. “Sorry, Grace, I thought…”

  I put my hand up with a dramatic sigh and looked at the redhead. “He does this all the time, yanno? But I’ve gotten used to it as long as when he’s done with his whiskey, he comes back and we shag like rabbits.”

  The redhead’s face turned a darker shade than her hair, her eyes shooting daggers at Jack.

  I covered my mouth and gasped. “Oh no. Was I not supposed to say that? Were you trying to shag him, too? Let me tell ya, he’s not the best, but he’s really easy. Just make sure he wraps it because when he has a flare up, whew!”

  Jack stood up, a deep scowl on his face as he put his hand on my back, turning me in the other direction. “Sorry, Cara, it appears my assistant needs me. I think she must have been struck with fever. Have the waitress put your drinks on my tab and I’ll text you later.”

  Cara stood up, glaring as she pushed her cleavage up. “No need. I’m leaving. You have fun with your assistant or whoever she is.”

  With those words, Cara stomped out of the bar.

  As soon as the door shut behind her, I let out a laugh I’d been holding in for far too long.

  “Shagging and flare ups? That in one of those novels you edit, or did you come up with that just to embarrass me?” Jack tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowed.

  “A little bit of both. It always worked well with Sean back in school. Usually, it took longer to get those girls to leave. Am I that intimidating?” I asked, putting my hand to my chest.

  “Well, you succeeded in making sure I won’t be getting a second date.”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “Did you really even want the first one with her? You looked bored out of your mind.”

  A hint of a smile played on his lips. “Probably not.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Sean used to tell me you were like his wingman, which I never believed. I always figured you two were shagging and he didn’t want to tell us.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Me and Sean? Ewwwwww. No thank you. I’ve seen the women he’s dated and talk about flare ups.”

  Jack shook his head. “Well, I guess my date is over. Time to move on to the next one.”

  “I guess that’s the closest I’ll get to you saying I was right and thank you.”

  “What are you doing at the pub anyway? Didn’t take you for a beer and chips girl. Or think that you’d leave Jane Pawsten that long.” He nodded at a passing waitress, the smell of fried foods wafting from her tray and making my stomach rumble.

  “Oh, I’m here with Fallon. Just a quick bite after work since Connor had a meeting. And Jane’s at my mum’s with strict instructions for her not to get near any plants,” I replied.

  “Is she doing better? No other run-ins with the vet?” He quirked an eyebrow.

  My chest warmed, hearing the genuine concern in his tone that no one else had, not even my mum. “Yes. She’s been taking her medications and all of the house plants have been put out of her reach, as well as a small wall in the garden that she barks at, wondering why it’s blocking her.”

  He laughed. “I’d love to see her trying to hop over that. I bet she’s stubborn like her owner.”

  I bit back a smile, trying to glare and appear mad. “I’ll have you know that some people say stubbornness builds character.”

  He smirked in return, shaking his head as he walked with me toward the other end of the bar where Fallon was now standing next to her stool. She had her purse slung over her shoulder and her light sweater back on her shoulders.

  “Looks like you saved the damsel in despair,” Fallon said with a laugh then tilted her head. “What is it called if it’s a man, though? Just dam? Damselo?”

  “Good to see you, too, Fal,” Jack said.

  “As nice as it is that we’re all having a good time and not at work, I have to leave. Connor is almost done with his meeting, so we’re going to head home,” she said quickly.

  “What about your meal? Are you taking it to go? Should we order something for Connor?” Blast, now Fallon had me rambling like her.

  She shook her head. “I’m sure Connor will cook something, but since the order is already in, why don’t you and Jack enjoy it? He owes you another glass of wine anyway.”

  A flush of heat crept up my neck as Fallon winked, turning so her blond ponytail swished over her shoulder.

  Was she trying to insinuate something with Jack and me? I mean that was a given, but sitting and having a drink with him could lead to other things. Things that would make him think I wanted more.

  “That’s not necessary. I can just get it to go,” I stammered, trying to sound authoritative but my mouth had gone dry, and I could barely get the words out.

  I said I didn’t want to be a wife, but that didn’t mean I still wasn’t attracted to the guy.

  “Nonsense. Sit and have a meal with me. I owe you that and something better than watered down wine,” he said, pulling out my stool.

  I looked between him and Fallon then finally sighed and took my seat. I guess eating the meal I ordered couldn’t hurt. And maybe he didn’t have any feelings for me. Maybe he just wanted a meal with an old friend.

  “Fine. But only because it’s already been ordered. Then I have to get home,” I said, trying to put my shoulders back and keep my composure before tucking a stray strand of my wavy brown hair behind my ear.

  “I’ll see you two tomorrow,” Fallon called before she headed out of the pub.

  Jack took the stool next to mine and signaled something to the bartender
.

  I frowned. “What was that about? A secret code?”

  He let out a quick breath of air through his nose. “If I’m going to sit with you in my pub, I’m not going to watch you drink some shite wine.”

  His accent was thicker when he swore, and with the warm roll of his words a thrill of anticipation shot through me and down to my long neglected nether region.

  Not now. And not with him.

  The bartender sat down a flight of stemless glasses filled with different amber liquids.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  He picked up one glass, handing it to me, and then took one for himself. “Whiskey tasting. It was a long day at the office and an even worse attempt at a first date. I figure my knight in shining armor, or whatever you want to call yourself, deserves to find her favorite whiskey.”

  I swallowed hard. I couldn’t remember the last time I drank whiskey and especially not with my boss. My boss, who I was starting to dislike a little less and that old childhood crush was starting to reappear.

  “I don’t think us getting drunk together is the best option here,” I muttered, lowering my glass.

  He put his hand on mine and warmth spread throughout my body, making me cross my legs and try to ignore the ache that pressed in my core. “I didn’t say anything about getting drunk, mo gra. I’m just saying, let’s enjoy one drink. I still owe you for being a gobshite at the gala.”

  “I think you’ve done more than enough. The job. Apartment. Jane…” I hesitantly looked from the glass up to his dimples and blue eyes. Blast, the man had a way of making a girl melt for him.

  “Let me do this. As one friend to another. Not as your boss. Or your friend’s brother. Let’s try for one night to play nice at least.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, I looked down at the glass instead of at him.

  “One drink and dinner since it’s paid for,” I muttered into the whiskey before downing the burning liquid.

  He laughed. “It’s going to be a long night if you keep drinking it like that.”

  I coughed, hitting my fist on my chest. “Or a very short one. That stuff is strong.”

 

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