Straight Up

by Deirdre Martin

  “This isn't New York. It would have gotten back to her eventually. There are no secrets in a village this small. None. So perhaps it's better she found out what a bastard you are when things were still in the early stages.”

  Liam swallowed. “Did she tell you she loved me?”

  “Of course she did. And it was hard for her to admit it, too. You think she would open her heart to just anyone after what happened with Connor? She doesn't date casually. Never has.”

  “And up until I met her, that's all I've ever done.”

  Nora pursed her lips, looking him up and down critically.

  “Mmm, you seem the type.”

  “Why's that?” Liam asked defensively.

  "Handsome. Charming. You play the moody Byronic role quite well, from what I hear.

  Nora was right: there were no secrets in this place. He wondered if Aislinn had told her that, or if Jack had mentioned his occasional dark moods to someone in town. Get a life, people, he thought.

  Liam heaved a sigh of impatience. “Fine: so we've established I'm an asshole.”

  “Understatement of the year.”

  “I love her,” Liam declared. “And I want her back.”

  Nora cocked her head inquisitively. “May I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask me almost anything.”

  “Why on earth should she give you the time of day?”

  “Because she loves me,” Liam shot back fiercely. “Because I'm the man she's meant to be with.”

  Nora grabbed a mug out of the cabinet, filling it with coffee. “My, we are sure of ourselves, aren't we?”

  “When it comes to me and Aislinn being together, then yeah. I am. In fact, our being together is the only thing in my messed-up life I am sure of.”

  Nora took a sip of coffee. “Your intensity is impressive.”

  “I'm not trying to impress you. I'm just stating simple fact.” Liam jiggled his left leg impatiently. “Look, I know I have no right to ask you this, and if you tell me to go to hell, I will totally understand. But I need your help trying to win your sister back.”

  “I'm not going to tell you to go to hell.”

  “Well, that's -”

  “The truth is,” Nora interrupted, “you made my sister happier than I've ever seen her.”

  Liam felt a twinge of hope. “Thank you for -”

  “But don't expect her to forgive you right away,” Nora cut in again. “She's going to need time. And if she does decide to forgive you, she's not going to make it easy for you.”

  “No kidding.”

  "You need to prove you're worthy of her.

  “And how do I do that?”

  Please don't say “Woo her”

  “Woo her.”

  Shit.

  “Show her you're not going to give up, no matter what.”

  Liam felt an uptick in confidence.

  “Now.” Nora splayed her hands on the table in front of her. “I'm willing to help you by pointing out to her that people do make mistakes. In fact. I've done that already.”

  “Really?” Liam was surprised. “Yes. But she's so devastated right now she can't really hear me. I'll keep trying.”

  “I appreciate that. But I need more help than that. I need suggestions. She's not like other women. I don't think flowers and lingerie will do the trick.”

  “You're an idiot,” Nora said without animus. “She is like other women. Of course she'd like flowers and lingerie, though God knows she'd never admit it. Be creative.”

  “Could you be more specific?”

  “No.”

  “Right,” Liam said despondently. Creativity was Quinn's strong suit, not his. Maybe he'd e-mail his brother and ask him for a few suggestions. Of course, that would entail telling Quinn about the bet. He could hear Quinn's voice yelling in his head: What are you, a lucking idiot? Answer: yes.

  Liam stood. “I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me.”

  “I'm doing it for Aislinn, not you.”

  Liam nodded his understanding. “I can show myself out.”

  He was almost out the door when Nora called out to him, “Woo her creatively.”

  I'm doomed, thought Liam bleakly as he quietly closed the door behind hint The pressure was on.

  Straight Up

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ************************************************************************************************

  Aislinn was in a foul mood as she and Padraig came inside for lunch. It was pissing down rain, turning the fields to mud and Padraig into a first-class grumbler.

  It had been a month since she'd parted ways with Liam O'Brien. As she'd told her sister, she in no way altered her actions because of what had happened, though she noticed other people had. Every time she came into the Oak. Fergus and David were solicitous, chatting her up. Maybe they'd returned to the delusion that she might go out with one of them. Fat chance. She had no use for them and for men in general.

  As for the Yank, he was giving her a wide berth, and she was glad of it. She hated the way the sight of him still made excitement flash through her body. It felt like a betrayal. She couldn't believe how exhausting trying to hate someone could be. Bastard. At least she'd stopped crying at the drop of a hat.

  “I'm starved,” Padraig declared, sitting down on the mudroom bench to pull off his boots.

  “When aren't you?" Aislinn teased. A man my age needs sustenance.

  “Beyond whiskey and cigarettes? Glad to hear it.”

  Padraig shot her a dirty look as he hung his raincoat on one of the pegs on the wall. “Don't get lippy with me, girl. I was there with your da when you learned to walk.”

  Aislinn laughed, hanging her coat beside his. Deenie sat by her side, dutifully lifting each of her front paws so Aislinn could wipe off the mud.

  Padraig rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Good grub today?”

  “Nora made some potato leek soup last night.”

  Aislinn and Padraig walked into the kitchen, surprised to find Non typing away on her laptop. She closed it, looking up at them. “I was getting bored writing in my room. Thought a change of place might do me good.”

  Padraig heaved himself into a chair. “Your soup smells good,” he told Nora begrudgingly.

  “Thank you.”

  “It does,” Aislinn agreed. She fetched three bowls and filled them, then cut up the loaf of brown bread she'd bought in town the day before, putting it in a basket before bringing it all to the table. Padraig was big on dipping bread into his soup.

  Nora asked them how their morning had been. Aislinn knew she didn't really care, but she appreciated the attempt, anyway. Aislinn returned the gesture, asking after Nora's article. Padraig commented that the article sounded like a “load of buggery bollocks,” thus erasing the seeming détente of a few minutes before. Aislinn hated the tension between them. She wasn't surprised when Padraig legged it back outside as soon as he could.

  Nora came up behind her as she washed the dishes when they were done eating. “There's a package for you in the sitting room. It came in the post this morning.”

  Aislinn was puzzled. “A package?”

  “Yes. I had to sign for it. Whoever sent it wanted to make sure you got it.”

  “Hmm.”

  Aislinn finished washing up, then went to the sitting room to check out the mysterious package sitting on the coffee table. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, post-marked Ballycraig.

  She sat down on the couch, opening it slowly. Inside was a bottle of perfume called Love by someone named Nina Ricci. There was a small card attached that read, “Subtle, Sexy, and Classic - just like you. Please give me another chance. Liam.”

  Aislinn stared at the bottle. Did the twit not know her at all? She'd never worn perfume in her life! Still ... she discreetly spritzed some on her wrist. It was nice. But still, not her cup of tea. Not one bit.

  Nora popped her head in. “What did you get?”

  “You'll never b
elieve it when I tell you,” said Aislinn, putting the perfume back in the box.

  “What?”

  “Perfume from Liam, with a little note attached telling me he wants me back. I'm tempted to send one back saying, 'How does it feel to want?' ” She shook her head in disbelief. “He's unbelievable.”

  “He's romancing you,” Nora said softly. “Trying to win you back.”

  “He can romance me till the cows come home. I'll have none of it.”

  Nora came closer and sniffed the air. “Tried some, I see. Isn't that Love? It's a lovely scent, and he's trying to send you a message.”

  “Well, I've got a message for him: go to bloody hell.”

  *****

  What a stupid fucking idea it was to buy Aislinn perfume. That was the first thing Liam thought when she walked into the pub that night, heading straight for him with a stony expression on her face.

  “We need to talk,” she said curtly.

  “Let me get you your whiskey first.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Liam poured her whiskey, feeling the Trinity's eyes on him all the while. He didn't need to look at Teague to know the bastard was smirking, while his new allies Fergus and David were trying to not betray their concern. They said “Hello,” to Aislinn, who politely returned their greetings. Liam poured himself a double before handing Aislinn her drink.

  She was scowling at him, not blinking once as she downed her shot. For the first time. Liam understood how she earned her nickname. She was formidable, downright intimidating. Don't be a pussy, he chided himself. You of all people know it's a defense against pain.

  He gestured at her glass. “Another?”

  “I don't think you'd like that very much.”

  “Why's that?”

  “Another might loosen my tongue, and I'll say all the nasty things about you swirling in my head.”

  Teague laughed darkly. “Do it, McCafferty. We haven't had a good laugh in here for a while.”

  “You want a laugh, Teague Daly? Go look in the mirror.”

  Teague tried to laugh off the put-down. "She's back, all right, and in top form, too.

  “Go chase yourself,” said Aislinn with a glare.

  “He can't,” Fergus wisecracked. “Moves too slow. He'd catch himself.”

  Everyone at the bar laughed.

  “Go feck yourselves, the lot of you,” snapped Teague, turning his eyes to the sports pages of the Irish Times lying open in front of him.

  Aislinn's eyes zeroed back in on Liam's face. He threw his shot of whiskey down, then poured himself another. “What's up?” he asked, trying to ignore his heartbeat picking up speed in his chest.

  “I got your gift,” she told him coldly

  “Did you like it?” he asked stupidly.

  “You shouldn't have wasted your money. For one thing, I don't wear the stuff, but then again, you'd know that, wouldn't you, if you'd ever truly given a toss about me. For another, you're soft in the head if you think I'd ever forgive you.”

  “Then why aren't you returning it to me?” Liam challenged.

  “I gave it to Nora.”

  “Liar.”

  "Pardon?'

  “You're lying. You kept it because you care.”

  “How dare you?”

  Liam loved that he was getting to her. The vehemence of her reaction said more than words ever could. She cared, all right.

  “Give it back to me, then. I kept the receipt. Just in case.”

  "I'm told you: I gave it to Nora

  " I'm sure she'd understand.

  “You want it back?” Aislinn asked contemptuously. “Ask her for it yourself.”

  “I will.”

  “Next time she comes in here. I don't want you anywhere near my house.”

  "The road passing your house is public. If I want to take a walk, and it happens to take me past the farm, there's not much you can do about it.

  “Except pity you for the pathetic creature you are.” She reached into the front pocket of her jeans, putting money down on the counter. “For the whiskey. I'd tip you, but I'm a bit low on cash. Sorry.”

  “I wouldn't fret over it,” said Teague, still looking down at the paper. “He's rich now with them double wages of his.”

  Moron.

  “That's all I have to say to you,” Aislinn concluded, buttoning up her barn jacket and heading for the door. Liam watched her go, smiling to himself. It was going to be a struggle, and she'd make him pay a steep price, but in the end, he knew he'd win her back.

  *****

  Well, you played that cool, “ said Jack, impressed, ”which is amazing, considering the stupid gift you gave her.“ ”Perfume isn't stupid. Everyone's been telling me to woo her. So I'm wooing."

  “That's how you woo a girly girl,” said Jack. “The McCa - Aislinn is most certainly not one of those.”

  "Look, I've seen a side of her none of you have, all right? And believe me, there's a part of her that is totally girly girl

  " He made a point of smiling boastfully at Teague, whose fat, waxy face was contorting with envy. He was exaggerating, of course. There was a feminine side to Aislinn, but characterizing it as giuly girl was definitely pushing the edge of the envelope.

  He'd known she'd probably scoff at the perfume, but he was trying to be creative, the way Nora had advised. Four days ago, he'd dragged his cousin Erin into Crosshaven to act as his guinea pig. It had been she who'd selected the perfume, declaring it “Subtle, sexy, yet classic,” whatever the hell that meant. But it sounded good to him - so good he decided to steal the phrase and write it on the card inside the package. Aislinn probably laughed her head off when she read it, but that was okay. He was hoping that by showing her

  he was willing to make a total jackass of himself, if would soften her feelings toward him. “She didn't give the perfume to Nora,” Liam said confidently.

  “How do you know?” David asked.

  “If you were Nora, would you take a gift meant for your sister? Of course you wouldn't. You'd tell her to return it. I think Aislinn kept it for herself. If she really didn't want it, she'd have brought it here and thrown it in my face.”

  "You're probably right, Jack concurred.

  “Still, I don't think you're her favorite person quite yet,” David put in uneasily.

  “The fearsome glare is back,” said Fergus with a shudder.

  “It's all bluster,” said Liam.

  “I don't care what you call it,” Fergus returned. “It's effin' scary.”

  Aislinn scary - the idea amused Liam immensely. She was a lot of things, but scary wasn't one of them.

  “What have you got up your sleeve next?” Jack asked.

  “I'm just going to keep bombarding her until she gives in.”

  “You should try singing under her window,” David advised. “That's considered romantic.”

  “I'll keep that in mind,” Liam said dryly.

  *****

  “I've got to tell you something.”

  Jack sounded grave as he locked up the Oak and sat down on the barstool beside Liam, rolling a pint between his hands. Bettina was there, too, rearranging glasses beneath the counter and lining up the bottles of booze. She looked uneasy.

  “What's up?” Liam asked, wiping a small bead of sweat from his forehead. Spring had arrived, and when the pub was packed, all those bodies generated a helluva lot of heat, and Jack had no air-conditioning. He'd have to shower before he went to bed. It would help relax him.

  “There was a guy came in here today, asking questions about you.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Jack looked grim. “Wanted to know if there was an American working here, how long you'd been here, where you lived.”

  Liam's mouth went dry. “And what did you tell him?”

  “I lied to him, of course. Told him I had no idea what he was on about.”

  “Good.”

  “He looked very unsavory. Big scar across his right cheek.”

&n
bsp; “Bear of a man,” Bettina added.

  “Shit.”

  Jack looked disturbed. “I think the Mob might have tracked you down, son.”

  Liam head's began to swim. The Major had told him to leave New York for his own safety, but the bottom line was, whether Whitey was rotting in jail in the States or not, that didn't mean his reach didn't extend beyond New York. It didn't make sense, though. Liam's transgression had been relatively minor in terms of screwing Whitey over. But Liam knew that tracking him and doing Christ knows what to him would enable them to finally exact revenge oil Quinn. Shit.

  Liam began to brood. “I don't think there's much I can do about it, apart from leave town.”

  “We could hide you,” Bettina suggested.

  “What?”

  “Clearly he doesn't know what you look like,” Bettina reasoned.

  “So?”

  "Well, if he comes sniffing around here again when you're here, we can just hustle you out to the back or send you up to your flat till he leaves.

  “Good idea,” said Jack.

  “But what if he's asking about me around town?”

  "This is a small village, and we don't like outsiders threatening one of us. You may be a Yank, but you're our Yank. Besides, everyone loves your mam and da.

  “Maybe I should go to Dublin,” Liam thought aloud. “Lay low for awhile.”

  “It's easier to hide where you've got people to hide you than where no one knows you.”

  Jack patted his shoulder reassuringly. “It'll be fine. We've all got your back. You just concentrate on wooing Aislinn.”

  Straight Up

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ************************************************************************************************

  "Hello, Aislinn.

  Aislinn smiled at Alec Fry as he paused by her stall at the farmers' market. It was a gorgeous morning, one that made her wish she didn't have to work seven days a week. She'd give anything for long, leisurely bike ride in the country, followed by a lovely lie-down on a blanket, where she could bask in the sun.