Flying by the Seat of My Knickers

by Eliza Watson

  The bus driver slammed on the brakes. Declan snapped his arm across my chest, preventing me from head-butting the seat in front of me.

  I knew the day had been going too smoothly.

  Declan popped up, peering out the front of the bus. His concerned expression relaxed into a smile. “Ah, rush hour in Ireland, folks. Your chance for a few snaps.”

  A herd of sheep with green splashes across their wool coats was strolling up the middle of the narrow road. The driver pulled into a small gravel parking area for Hugh’s Overlook Lounge. Everyone quickly filed off the bus to take advantage of the photo op.

  “Please tell me you were kidding the other day about the mad-sheep attack.”

  Declan smiled. “I was messing with you. But you never know…”

  By the time I got off, the group had spooked the sheep, which were trotting away. Declan took several pics of me standing in the road with a dozen sheep butts behind me. We walked over to a grass strip along a stone fence, away from the group. Dozens of sheep dotted the green rolling hills overlooking the lake. A breeze swept my hair across my face and filled my nose with the scent of freshly mowed grass and earth. The many shades of green grass resembled a patchwork quilt Grandma might have sewn.

  An overwhelming sense of déjà vu sent a shiver of awareness up my back. I felt like I’d been there before, like I belonged there. It seemed crazy to feel such a deep connection to a place when I hadn’t even known my great-grandma’s name until yesterday. But maybe her family’s sheep had grazed in these fields and she’d swam, or possibly even bathed, in this lake.

  Declan took a pic of me with the lake in the background. I clicked Send Photo and typed P.S. I Love You Lake in the subject line and P.P.S. I Miss You. I paused a moment before typing in Ashley’s e-mail addy. I shot it off to her, nervous anticipation zipping through me. What if she didn’t respond? Would the knowing or not knowing if she forgave me be more difficult?

  “It was so sad she lost the love of her life in the movie,” I said.

  Declan let out an exaggerated groan. “Just ruined it for me, you did.”

  “The movie trailer tells that she’s a widow. It’s not a surprise ending. It’s the movie’s beginning.”

  He smiled. “I’ve seen it. But once was enough.”

  “Don’t like chick flicks?”

  “Don’t like sad, depressing movies.”

  “Yeah, it was sad she lost the man she loved, but you know how many people never find a love like that?”

  Declan stared out at the lake. “When you lose someone you love, you lose a part of yourself that you never get back.” A look of longing filled his blue eyes, and a deep sense of sorrow came over him. I wasn’t sure if the wind or sad memories were making his eyes water.

  The painful expression on his face caused an aching feeling in my chest. I wanted to reach out and touch Declan’s arm, but what if my small act of compassion made him uneasy or caused him to cry? Neither one of us would know how to react.

  Or worse yet, what if he pushed me away?

  “Like a part of you dies,” he muttered, massaging the silver Celtic symbol on his bracelet, still staring at the lake. A car zipped past, spitting up gravel on the side of the road, jarring him from his thoughts. “I really miss my granny.”

  “There you are.” Hannah walked up and placed a hand on Declan’s arm, where my hand should have been, like it was the most natural thing to do.

  Damnit. Why had I hesitated? I should have reached out to him or provided a few comforting words.

  “Everyone is getting back on the bus.” Hannah slowly lowered her hand from Declan’s arm.

  They headed back toward the bus. I trailed behind.

  Had Declan really been thinking about his grandma, or a lost love who’d died? Or had the player been played and been dumped by a girl he’d actually cared about, possibly loved? After Rachel’s warning about there being several women besides Gretchen, and then this Hannah chick, I couldn’t imagine playboy Declan ever having been in a committed relationship. Yet, I could imagine the considerate and caring Declan I’d come to know having had one.

  Did I know a side of Declan that Rachel and others didn’t?

  Chapter Nineteen

  White-gloved waiters in black-tailed tuxes served wine, beer, and fancy hors d’oeuvres on a terrace overlooking the sprawling gardens at Powerscourt Estate. I envisioned the palatial mansion built in the seventeen hundreds having once hosted elaborate balls, with women dressed in long, flowing gowns and men in tuxes, sneaking out to the gardens for a moonlight kiss.

  The green Wicklow Mountains provided a panoramic backdrop to the forty-seven-acre gardens with meandering pathways, showcasing colorful flowers and statues. Stairs and terraced lawns led down to a fountain spraying a steady stream of water high into the air. A peaceful and idyllic setting. I was expecting a lady’s heel to become wedged in the terrace’s stone mosaic design, causing her to break an ankle. Or for someone to lean back on the ornate black iron railing and fall to the gardens below.

  I was learning to prepare for the worst.

  However, the dark clouds that had earlier threatened rain had given way to a purplish-pink horizon. And the tall propane heaters scattered around the terrace provided a comfortable evening temperature.

  The day had gone smoothly. Maybe nothing would go wrong.

  “I wonder how much a room here costs,” Gretchen said, walking up with Rachel.

  “Probably out of Brecker’s budget,” Rachel said.

  I’d read in the paperwork that the estate had closed in the 1970s due to a fire the day before it was scheduled to open to the public. No funds to renovate, it’d become a chain hotel. An upscale one anyway, so it maintained its grandeur.

  “Several TV series and movies were filmed here,” I said. “Have you ever seen Ella Enchanted with Anne Hathaway?”

  Rachel shook her head. “I’ll have to watch it.”

  “I’m going to go check on dinner,” Gretchen said.

  “Actually, I’m going to have Caity do dinner.”

  “What?” Gretchen and I said simultaneously.

  “I’ll have you watch over the reception,” Rachel told Gretchen.

  I’d been upgraded from bathroom attendant thanks to my successful outing with Kathleen and requesting the dinner’s paperwork. My heart raced. I was on.

  “I’ll help you,” Rachel said.

  My heart raced faster. Rachel and Gretchen had arrived before me. They’d undoubtedly already checked everything, and she was testing me to see if I’d read the details.

  “I saw there’s a nut allergy,” I said. “Should we make sure the chef is aware of it? I didn’t see any nuts on the menu, but I know sometimes they can sneak into sauces.”

  Gretchen looked shocked by my knowledge, and Rachel appeared impressed.

  “I double-checked when we got here,” Rachel said. “But good call.”

  Too bad Declan was out front waiting on Flanagan’s executives rather than here witnessing his star pupil in action. He’d also put Hannah in a car back to Dublin, or his hotel room, since the tour had officially ended here.

  We walked away, and I could feel Gretchen’s glare singeing the back of my hair over me invading her food and beverage territory. Maybe her issue with me wasn’t about picking up my slack but that she feared I’d be replacing her.

  Yeah, right.

  “Has Declan heard from his friend about any Coffeys he might know?” Rachel asked.

  “No, but Aunt Teri found Grandma’s letters.” I wasn’t sure if Mom had known that when talking to Rachel.

  “Yeah, she mentioned that when I called her earlier.”

  Rachel didn’t elaborate on why she’d called Mom or acknowledge how out of character her call had been. Guess she didn’t think it was as huge of a deal as Mom and I did.

  We climbed up the steps toward the terrace along the back of the mansion, checking the heaters along the way to ensure they were functioning properly. Soft Celti
c music and twinkle lights provided ambiance as dusk settled in, and the outdoor lanterns flickered on. Gold-colored overlays covered cream table linens, matching the chair covers. The waitstaff scurried around lighting the candle centerpieces. Green, yellow, and ivory floral arrangements decorated the bar and food buffets.

  I smiled at the bartender, a middle-aged guy named Ryan. “Are you serving Brecker Dark and Flanagan’s?”

  He nodded. “I certainly am, luv. Would you like one?”

  I shook my head. “No thanks.”

  A microphone and compact sound system sat on a round cocktail table tucked behind the bar.

  “Should I check the mic volume?”

  “I already did. Tom never uses one. It’s just a backup. He prefers a more informal talk if we’re in a small enough setting.”

  A chef in a tall white hat stood behind a turkey and beef carving station, and another stood at a sushi station. Silver trays displayed shrimp cocktails in crystal glasses and oyster ceviche in martini glasses. I had no clue what ceviche was or if I liked oysters, but my stomach growled.

  “The pescatarian will be happy.”

  Rachel nodded. “Yes, he will.”

  Chocolate flowed down a fountain surrounded by accompaniments of marshmallows, strawberries, pound cake, and rice crispy bars.

  “Kathleen had macaroons yesterday at lunch. They’re her favorite. I saw the restaurant here serves lunch, and there’s a food hall. Do you think they might have macaroons?”

  Rachel smiled. “Good to know. I’ll go check with the banquet captain.” She went in search of macaroons.

  Ten minutes later, a silver tray with a pastel rainbow of macaroons appeared on the desert table. My first rainbow in Ireland.

  Gretchen came up from the reception. “Do you want me to invite people to dinner yet?” she asked Rachel.

  “Sure.”

  Gretchen eyed the macaroons, then me. “Uh, those aren’t on the menu.” She said this as if she’d caught an error that I hadn’t.

  “Yeah, Caity mentioned they’re Kathleen’s favorite, so we added them.”

  I swore a low growl vibrated at the back of Gretchen’s throat as she turned and headed down to the reception.

  When dinner was in full swing, Tom Reynolds stood on the top step leading into the mansion. He clinked a knife against his beer glass, requesting everyone’s attention. He’d declined a mic, as Rachel had predicted, and his booming voice easily projected across the terrace. He thanked Brecker and Flanagan’s employees for their hard work in forging a relationship between the two companies and partnering with Kildare Sausages. He named a few individuals who’d been instrumental to the acquisition’s success. Of course, like Rachel, he didn’t use the taboo word acquisition.

  “We couldn’t hold these meetings without the help of our event planner, Rachel Shaw.” Everyone clapped, and Rachel gave a little wave. “And her dedicated staff, Gretchen, Declan, and the newest addition to the team, Caity. Nice to have you on board, Caity.”

  All eyes were on me and my flushing cheeks. Rachel smiled proudly, unlike at Malahide Castle when Tom had discovered we were sisters. Self-confidence welled up inside me, and I stood a little taller, smiling brightly.

  Rachel put me in charge of monitoring the seafood display, making sure it was replenished as needed. She informed me that the shrimp was served in individual glasses so people didn’t pile it on their plates, causing them to run out. Great idea in theory. However, people were merely taking two and three glasses. Once everyone was seated and eating, I snagged a shrimp cocktail and oyster ceviche and snuck off to our staff table tucked away in a dimly lit corner. I snapped a picture of the six large shrimp hooked on the rim of a crystal stemmed glass containing a pinkish-colored cocktail sauce and lemon wedges on crushed ice.

  Halfway through my shrimp cocktail, Rachel received an e-mail. Her eyes widened as she read it. “Shit.”

  “What is it?” Gretchen asked.

  “I gotta go. It’s already midafternoon back home. I have to make some calls.” Rachel sprang from her chair, glancing over at Declan. “Ask the driver who brought me to pull up out front.” She disappeared through the mansion doors, like the clock had struck midnight and her ball had ended.

  “Must be bloody awful for her to run off without telling Tom,” Declan said.

  The expensive shrimp tossed in my stomach.

  And there was the storm I’d been anticipating all day.

  Chapter Twenty

  The evening was a huge success, except we spent dinner discussing every scenario that might have caused Rachel to flee without a word to Tom. With all of their experience, Gretchen and Declan came up with some pretty horrible possibilities.

  I prayed none of them were accurate.

  When we arrived back at the hotel, we headed straight to the office to check on Rachel. Things were worse than anticipated. Rachel was pacing, holding a nearly empty wineglass.

  I stepped cautiously toward her. “What’s wrong?”

  “The hotel booked our main competitor in the space next to us for our December meeting. The CEO is Tom’s archenemy. No way in hell is he going to hold a meeting in the same hotel as the guy, let alone in the ballroom across the hall.”

  “Can’t they cancel the other group?” Gretchen asked.

  “They were contracted first. It seems a contract means nothing though, since ours clearly states no competitors can be booked in the hotel over our dates. And I’m never going to find another hotel in December, with all the holiday parties going on. Tom is going to go ballistic. Fa la la la la.” She knocked back the last swallow of wine, and the vein in her forehead looked ready to explode.

  “Get your legal department involved,” Gretchen said. “It’s a breach of contract.”

  Rachel shook her head in frustration. “I will, but it isn’t going to matter unless legal can build a hotel before December. The other group also has a no-competitor clause. I can’t believe my sales rep screwed up. She’s blaming it on a new computer system and the other group’s info not reflecting accurately. A total bullshit excuse.”

  “It’s not your fault anyway,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m going to hear about it and be responsible for finding another venue, which will probably be the airport motor lodge at this point!” Rachel flinched, pressing a hand against her right side. She’d had a major kidney infection in college and once mentioned that when she got too stressed out, her right kidney throbbed.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She gave me an incredulous look, like I’d lost my mind. “Of course I’m not okay.”

  “No, I mean you’re holding your side. Are you physically okay? Is your kidney acting up?”

  She snapped her hand away from her side. “I’m fine.”

  “This isn’t worth losing a kidney over,” I said. “It’s just a job. Don’t let it get you so stressed out.”

  She stopped pacing, and her gaze darted to me. I expected steam to blow out her ears. “Just a job? You know how hard I’ve worked for this position? To manage an entire department? That attitude is precisely why you don’t have a job, Caity.” Her gaze sharpened. “Probably why you got fired from your last job and I had to give you this one, when I didn’t even need more staff.”

  My body went rigid and heat raced through me. How dare she tell Declan and Gretchen I’d been fired! And that she’d felt obligated to give me this job!

  “Well, I don’t need your charity or this job. I quit.”

  “Of course you do. You never stick with anything. You can’t even keep a damn car!”

  Low blow! I couldn’t believe Mom had told her about my car and that Rachel had also thrown that in my face!

  Heart racing, I squared my shoulders. “You have no clue why I lost my job. And I can see why you didn’t want me coming along on your job, because then I’d know what it was really like and how bad your life is when you want everyone to think it’s so perfect. Well, it’s far from perfect. And seeing
how bad it sucks makes me feel better about mine.”

  Rachel glared at me, hand on her side.

  I snapped my mouth shut.

  She was obviously lashing out because she was upset and in physical pain. Not that it gave her the right to tell everyone I’d been fired and had my car repoed. But when I should console someone, like with Kathleen and Declan, I had no clue what to say or how to act. And then when I should keep my yap shut, I blurted out all kinds of horrible things. I considered myself a compassionate person, but I lacked the natural ability to comfort people. I didn’t react well in emotionally intense situations.

  I would make a shitty counselor!

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, then turned and marched past Declan and Gretchen, who stared at me in wide-eyed disbelief.

  Rachel was right. I didn’t have a stellar work history, or a history of sticking with anything, except psycho Andy for two stupid years. I’d hoped to learn a lot from Rachel as far as organizational skills, how to troubleshoot, and to think on my feet. But I hadn’t expected to learn what not to do.

  To not let a job stress you out to the point of kidney failure. No worries there, since I was once again unemployed!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Heart racing, I flew into my room, my gaze darting around. I didn’t know where to begin. Head into the bathroom and throw up, to rid myself of the icky feeling in my stomach? Start packing? Figure out how to rebook my airline ticket to go home ASAP? Call Mom and get her credit card so I could rebook my airline ticket? I didn’t even have money to get home!

  Even worse, I didn’t want to go home.

  Yet I didn’t want to stay here. At least not in this hotel.

  I was screwed!

  And my debt would only get worse now without a job. I had to get a job! But it for sure wouldn’t be in counseling. I dropped down in the desk chair at my computer and reluctantly pulled up the e-mails for Moto Mart and the elf job. It was embarrassing enough that Mom’s neighbors knew I’d moved back home and that my car had been repoed, thanks to nosey Margaret. No way was I working at Moto Mart and having every parent in town stop in, bragging about how wonderfully my former high school classmates were doing.