Empress of Ireland

by Conner, Jennifer

  “This young woman is probably knackered after her long flight. I’ll let her finish her stew and then you can show her upstairs.”

  Gran started to turn when Laila said, “The stew is very good.” She took the last bite. “I’m a chef in a Seattle restaurant and I have to say, this is some of the best I’ve tasted.”

  “Thank you.” His gran’s chest puffed out, filled with pride. “It’s an old family recipe.”

  “I’ve heard,” Laila said and smiled sweetly. When his gran walked away, Laila looked at him and winked. Something did a little jig in his chest. “This is very nice of you and your grandmother to help me out. I don’t often say this, but I had no idea what I was going to do for a room tonight.”

  “Upstairs, Gran keeps the rooms open for her friends who visit, but they usually only stay during the summer months. She’ll love the company and I’m glad to be of help… again.”

  “Again,” she reiterated with a grin.

  Alasdair enjoyed the banter and light flirtation. It felt good to laugh and relax. Laila touched her lips with the tip of her fingers. She settled in the booth and pushed her empty soup bowl to the edge of the table. “So, I’ve been wondering, why is your pub named The Empress of Ireland?”

  “A great-grandmother of mine perished in the sinking of the ocean liner by the same name. Two ships collided in The Saint Lawrence River in Quebec. In fourteen minutes, over a thousand people died, my great-gran being one of them. The family promised that they would forever rename the pub, The Empress of Ireland so as not to forget.” Alasdair pointed. “There a plaque on the wall by the door with my great-grandmothers’s name, Aoife Kelly. She was Máire grandmother. This year marks the hundredth anniversary of the disaster.”

  “It’s special to remember a past family member and hang a plaque in remembrance. People pass by, read it, and that person is remembered every day. It’s a beautiful tribute. I can’t wait to hear more of your town’s and your family’s history. Maybe you could show me around tomorrow?”

  If Laila stayed, tomorrow he would have another chance to see her. Again. It was a pattern he liked.

  Chapter Four

  Laila hadn’t slept so well in years. When she rolled over to check the time, the clock on the bedside table showed almost eleven. She’d been asleep for twelve hours. Living in a shared apartment in Seattle, there was constant street and roommate noise. But here, it was quiet—almost too quiet. Laila drew herself up and padded over to the window. Drawing back the blinds, she peered down at the people going about their business outside. Everyone was still alive, the silence wasn’t due to a zombie apocalypse.

  Last night, she’d chatted with Alasdair until her eyes refused to stay open for another minute. Now, as she quickly showered and dressed, the new morning presented another opportunity to see him. She needed to confirm that he was as handsome in daylight as on a dark, rainy night.

  Laila wound her way down the narrow stairs and spotted Alasdair where she’d first met him, hunched over ledger books at the bar, deep in thought.

  She cleared her throat so he would notice her. “Morning.”

  He looked up at her and then at the clock above the bar. “Is it? It’s almost noon.”

  “I know. I was so tired.” She yawned. “Jet lag. Sorry I slept so late. What are you working on?” Laila perched on the stool next to him.

  “The same thing I do every day. I sit here and try to figure out why The Empress of Ireland is losing money.”

  “Would you like me to take a look at your ledger and order sheets?” She tapped a finger next to the books.

  “You’re on vacation. I’m sure this is the last thing you want to do.”

  “I can’t work on anything without coffee. I’m from Seattle, the birthplace of Starbucks, but let me take a look at the order sheets. It’s always a good place to start and compare customer orders with the kitchen orders. We might be able to find a place to tighten the budget belt.”

  He eyed her suspiciously but then grinned. “No one could possibly enjoy this. You’re cute but daft.”

  “Name calling so early in the day...I see how it is.” She paused for a moment. “I’ll make you a deal.”

  “On?”

  “If I can find even one thing that you can improve that will save the pub money, then you’ll owe me a two hour Kinsale sightseeing tour.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”

  “Easy enough. You’re on.” He shook her hand.

  Laila sat beside Alasdair and tapped the pen on her bottom teeth and tried not to breathe in the spicy scent of Alasdair’s aftershave. It distracted her from the business at hand. She gazed back and forth between the ledger and the order sheets. It didn’t take her long to spot the problem.

  She pointed to the line. “There are twenty pounds of pork cutlets on the order sheet every week. Is there a pork dish on the menu? I didn’t see one.”

  “There’s braised pork chops.” He picked up a current menu, scanned the items listed, and frowned. “Wait, they’re no longer listed.”

  “That could be one of the problems.” Laila took another sip of her rich, dark coffee. “Who does the ordering?”

  “Gran does. She gets the order from the cook, Aaron.”

  “Do you mind if I see your freezer?”

  Alasdair led her back to the kitchen and then pulled open the heavy freezer door. Laila took a step in and picked up a package. After she inspected it, she picked up another and then another.

  “This is all pork. There must be fifty packets of it here,” she exclaimed. “Why would your chef order all this meat and then not use it?”

  Alasdair’s grandmother walked into the kitchen. She waved a white envelope pinched between her fingers. “Aaron dropped this letter off a few minutes ago. I thought it was his pay slip, but it’s a letter of resignation. He took a job in Dublin.”

  Alasdair stared at her for a long moment. “He what?”

  “Just upped and quit! That slimey…” Máire’s words trailed off as her wrinkled brows pinched low in anger. She ripped the envelope in half.

  “Do you have another cook that can come in?” Laila asked.

  “No. He was the main cook.” Alastar looked glum. “The dishwashers barely have a brain between them and can’t cook a lick. This explains why Aaron’s been so lax in his ordering. He couldn’t give a hoot ’n hell about this place or how much money we lose. He was probably just giving Gran the same sheet every week. Good thing he scattered. If he was here I’d—”

  “No worries. With adversity comes resilience. I’ll cook today,” Máire said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She stabbed her cane and moved deeper into the kitchen. “We’ve been in much worse times.”

  “Gran! You haven’t been behind the cooker in ten years,” Alasdair argued.

  “Who do you think taught Aaron how to cook? You’re the manager, but you don’t know everything that goes on here.” She gave him a sly smile and wiggled a bony finger his direction. “I was back here when you weren’t looking.” She turned toward Laila. “Alasdair worries about me slipping or lifting something heavy. I have a lifetime of experience in the kitchen, I know what I can and can’t do.”

  “I know you do, Gran. I guess we don’t have much of a choice until we find another cook.” Alasdair shut the freezer door and turned to face Laila. “I promised you that sightseeing tour of Kinsale, but it may have to wait a bit until tomorrow.”

  Laila looked from Alasdair to Máire. “Máire, do you mind if I tag along back here in the kitchen? I’ve never been with another chef with your experience and I’d love to have you show me around.”

  “Yes… well, I’d like that very much.” Máire smiled. Her dull, blue eyes came to life.

  “No.” Alasdair shook his head and frowned. “You’re on vacation.”

  “And what do yo
u think is my favorite thing to do? Cook.” Laila put a hand on her hip. “This is what I want to do.” She shooed him away with her hands. “Let us ladies be and you go and do whatever pub manager’s do. I have a great new pork medallion recipe I can share with your grandma. She can decide if your patrons like it enough to put the item on the menu.” She saw that Alasdair caught her innuendo regarding all the pork in the freezer when he mouthed, ‘thank you.’

  Máire handed Laila a red floral apron. “Here. You can wear this. My other apron burned in the fire.”

  “Fire?” Laila asked.

  The old woman laughed and patted Laila’s arm. “I have forty years of stories to tell you.” She hung her cane on the kitchen counter. “Come on, we have work to do before the lunch rush hits.”

  Laila stood beside the elderly woman for the next eight hours as they cooked and laughed. When she finally came back out into the pub, it was almost eight.

  Alasdair looked guilty as she approached him as though he must have thought she’d be angry about how she’d spent her day. She slid the plate in her hand on the bar in front of him.

  “The last thing you should be doing is feeding me. I should be the one taking you out to a four-star restaurant in gratitude for your help. It was busy for a Monday.” He lifted his fork. “What is this?”

  “Pork loin with winter fruit and port sauce. I told you I’d come up with a dish to use up all that overage on.”

  As she sat and pulled off her apron, he sliced off a chuck and took a bite.

  “This is… incredible,” he said over a full mouth of food.

  “I told you I can cook.” She grinned. “But in the kitchen, it’s your grandma who’s amazing. She’s like that bunny in the TV commercials. She just goes and goes.”

  “She’s always been like that.” Alasdair looked back toward the kitchen. “When Grandfather died, I thought she’d lost a little of that spark. She misses him greatly, but I think she’s also the kind of person who needs to stay busy to keep alive and her mind active. She may be eighty-six in her body, but in her mind, she’s still twenty-six. If God grants me that long of a life, I can see myself being like her. I can’t rot watching the telly night after night. I need to stay active.” He looked at her. “I know it meant a lot to her to have you back there with her.”

  “I should be thanking you. You can’t believe how much I learned.”

  “For doing this today, I owe you the world.”

  “I’ll pass on the whole world, but I will take a pint of your famous beer.” Laila sighed, kicked off her shoes and rubbed the arch of her foot with her thumbs.

  “Only in Ireland for a day and already asking for the black stuff. It’s much better here. Unpasteurized. And their reps come every few weeks to clean the lines.” He stepped behind the bar, drew the beer down into the glass, poured off the foam and then filled it to the top. He set it in front of her. “See for yourself.”

  Laila lifted the glass and took a sip. “It tastes like chocolate, no coffee… oh heck, it’s just good.” She licked the rich foam from the beer off her upper lip.

  “You and your trying to figure out ingredients. With this beer, there are many flavors—coffee, chocolate, barley, and roasted nuts. Each person claims they taste something different.” He looked past her and out the leaded glass pane windows of the pub. “I know the sun’s gone down, but the last time I looked, it’s not bucketing like last night. Gran has a closet full of wellies in different sizes. If you have a warm coat, care to take a walk with me around the harbor?”

  “I’m tired, but in a good way. Give me ten minutes.” She paused and slapped her forehead. “What about the room? I was so busy back in the kitchen, I forgot all about calling around to other places.”

  “With the help you gave us, I’m sure gran would be happy to have you here for as long as your stay. Kinsale makes a great base for traveling about the area if you’d care to take the free room.”

  “Well, I can’t pass on a deal like that.”

  Laila washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair and then hurried down the stairs. Alasdair waited at the bottom. He leaned on the banister reading a book. He’d added a heavy wool cable-knit sweater over his T-shirt. Laila fingers itched as she imagined running them through his thick, black hair.

  “Ready?” he asked and shoved the paperback into his back pocket.

  “You bet.”

  As they moved out of the pub, they walked side by side down the deserted street of the town. The rain had stopped leaving a crisp, clear night with stars in the sky. They strolled along until they hit the low brick wall which surrounded the harbor.

  “I still haven’t seen the town in daylight,” Laila said squinting to see the houses that were layered up the hillsides.

  “We’ll work on that. Besides being beautiful, Kinsale’s a very strategic place in history. Did you know that?” Alasdair asked.

  “This small town?”

  “This ‘small town’ is steeped in history. Philip the Third of Spain sent an Armada of thirty-five hundred men and twenty-six ships to set up a base in Kinsale. Since Kinsale has an inland harbor, it was a coveted strategic stronghold. The English were able to defeat them. But, if they hadn’t, we very well would be speaking Spanish.”

  “I can’t imagine huge ships in this small harbor.” Laila leaned over the wall and peered into the dark water below. “How could they possibly have done it?”

  “It must have been crowded indeed. It also came as a shock to the Elizabethan order that the Spanish made their way ashore on their home banks.”

  “Think of how the poor Irish felt having this war in their port.” Laila stuck her hands in her pockets for warmth.

  “When I walk the town, I love the feel of all the generations who lived here before me. There are pieces of Norman walls up on the hill, and just out of town is Charles Fort. The fort has a view out to sea for miles.”

  “I’d love to see that.” She turned and sat on the edge of the stones. “This trip won’t take up the whole two hours of your promised sightseeing. Maybe if you have some free time tomorrow, we could go to those places after the lunch rush.”

  “Don’t even think of working in the kitchen again. I’m sure Gran and I can handle whatever comes up. You’re on vacation,” Alasdair exclaimed.

  “You’ve mentioned that… a few times. Will you stop worrying about how I spend my time? I had more fun today, cooking with your grandma, than I’ve had in the entire past year. I used to love my job, but my restaurant changed managers. Let’s just say, he’s not a warm and fuzzy kind of person like…you. I hadn’t realized how much I dreaded going to work until I came here. I can’t wait to come back tomorrow and spend more time with your grandma.”

  “I like being the pub’s owner, but I have no aspiration of ever being in the kitchen unless it’s my only option.”

  “What else do you like to do?”

  Alasdair thought for a second. “I muck around with the lads at the local hurling matches. I love to travel when I can get away for a week or two.” He took a step closer until the streetlights were reflected in the depths of his green eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for stepping up and helping Gran and me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Laila swallowed, feeling the warmth of his body so close. “Do you have any other hobbies?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a hobby, but I like to kiss beautiful women.” He pulled her hand from her pocket and held her fingers in his grasp. Her blood warmed and her pulse quickened. Was she dreaming? The deep tone of his voice, his sexy gaze, and the shape of his mouth… this moment was too perfect.

  “I told you a little of the reason that I’m here. I made a promise to a friend who died that I would get out and experience life.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?” Alasdair asked and ran a thumb down her cheek.


  “I think so.”

  “Can I add a kiss to that list?”

  “Yes… I’d like that.”

  He closed the gap, took her face between his hands and kissed her. Just a gentle brush of his lips and her knees turned to jelly. He started to pull back. She thought he might feel he was being inappropriate.

  “I’m going to need a better kiss than that if you want to be added to a list.” Laila took the reins. She wound her hands behind his neck and looked up into his handsome face.

  “I like a challenge.” His eyes darkened.

  Her breath hitched as he took her around the waist and drew her up on her toes. The moment lengthened as he took his time and let her die of anticipation. Laila let herself dissolve into the embrace. When he finally kissed her, it wasn’t demanding, it was more lingering. When he deepened the kiss, she had to grab his shoulder to keep from falling back.

  She hadn’t been kissed this thoroughly in a long time… Okay, maybe never. The kiss went on until she thought she couldn’t breathe.

  When he stepped back, his eyes were closed and he sighed. “I work too much.”

  “I was thinking the exact same thing.” Laila chuckled. “You just moved to the top two on the list.”

  “Only number two?” He kissed the tip of her nose and laughed. “Tomorrow I’ll have to work on moving up a place in the standings.”

  This vacation wasn’t turning out anything like she’d expected. It was better.

  Chapter Five

  Alasdair drummed his fingers on the bar and waited for the clock to hit four. He didn’t want to disturb Laila or his gran as they prepared the food in the kitchen for the restaurant’s evening meals.

  “Damnú air,” he grumbled. The Gaelic profanity he learned from his grandfather, he saved for special occasions. Alasdair slid off the bench and stalked toward the open kitchen door. Why was he so enchanted by Laila and so damn antsy to be with her every waking moment? He’d only known her a few days, but in the hours he wasn’t with her, he lay awake and stared at the tin ceiling tiles above his bed imagining that they somehow took on the shape of her profile.