Escape With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “Keegan?”

  He shakes his head as if pulling himself out of a trance. “You should be good now. Sleep well.”

  And with that, he leaves the room and gently closes the door behind him.

  Was it something I said?

  Chapter 3

  ~Izzy~

  It’s been a whole two weeks since I left my life and everything I knew. My feet are healed, with the help of shoes that fit—thanks to several nights’ worth of tips. It also didn’t hurt that Keegan insisted I take a day off to rest them and fronted me one day of sick time.

  I don’t know how I stumbled across such a generous group of people, but I’m so grateful. Someday, I will pay it forward.

  “These are the last of the empties from my tables,” I inform Keegan as I set the heavy tray on the bar. “I can wash them if you’d like.”

  “No, you’ve had a full day.” He flashes me a smile that makes my toes curl in my new sneakers. Another something that’s happened in the past two weeks…my attraction to my boss has grown by leaps and bounds. But I’m a professional, and not one to try to seduce the hand that feeds her.

  I’m not stupid.

  Not to mention, he’s never given me any indication that he’s being anything but nice to me.

  He pours me a glass of wine and offers it to me with a wink. “Why don’t you take this upstairs and unwind, Izzy?”

  “I will not turn down that offer.” I accept the wine and turn to head upstairs to the apartment. I climb the steps and take a sip of the sweet wine that Keegan always has on hand now.

  I feel a little guilty that he still won’t let me sleep on the couch. I know it has to be uncomfortable for him sleeping on that thing, but he won’t even entertain the idea of trading with me. I’ve looked for a small apartment, but I haven’t been working here long enough to afford first, last, and a deposit.

  And there’s no way I’ll ask my father for help—not that he’d give it, even if I did ask.

  I change out of my dirty T-shirt and jeans into black yoga pants and an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder 80s-style, then sit on the couch with my glass of wine when a text comes through from a friend back home.

  This is the first time she—or any of my friends—has reached out to me since the wedding. And, yes, I understand that it only reiterates that I have some shitty people in my life.

  I open my phone.

  Mindy: OMG! Did you see this??

  She included a screenshot of Troy’s Instagram page. I unfollowed the page last week, but now I open the app and search for his name. Troy has a public profile, so I don’t have an issue with seeing the images.

  Photo after photo of my ex-fiancé in Aruba—on my honeymoon—with none other than Heather Croy. My supposed friend. Ex-friend now, the way she’s hanging all over him.

  I don’t bother replying to Mindy. She’s only stirring shit. Doing a good job of it, obviously, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of a response.

  I stand and pace the living room. I can hear the music downstairs as I drink wine and look at the photos over and over again.

  He went on my vacation.

  He took my friend.

  I wonder if they were sleeping together before the wedding. Looking back now, it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if Troy had been cheating on me for a long time.

  I finish my wine and frown. I’m going to need much more of this.

  I march out the door and down the stairs to the bar. Keegan’s eyebrow raises when he takes me in and then he cocks his head to the side. “Problem, sweetheart?”

  “I want to get drunk.” I hop up onto a stool. “Take the tab out of my paycheck.”

  His eyes narrow. “All right then, if it’s drunk you want to be, I can help with that easily enough. Wine?”

  “Whiskey.”

  He sighs and leans on the bar. “Izzy, what’s bothering you?”

  “None of your business.” If I talk about it, I’ll cry, and I’ll be damned if I waste even a single tear on that asshole Troy. “I just want to drink.”

  “Okay, then.” He pulls out a highball glass, not a shot glass this time, and pours me a good helping of Irish whiskey.

  “Whoa, be careful there, lass,” the man next to me says when I take a big gulp. “That whiskey is for sipping. It’ll go down smooth as silk.”

  “What’s your name?” I ask the older gentleman.

  “Sam.”

  “Well, Sam, thank you for your advice. Are you married?”

  “For nearly forty-six years now.”

  I grin and pat Sam’s shoulder. “That’s sweet. Do you still like her?”

  “Do I like her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I guess there was a day or two in those years that the liking might have been in question. But the love has only grown every day.”

  I nod and feel warmth spreading in my chest. Whether it’s the sweet words from Sam or the whiskey, I’m not entirely sure.

  “That’s nice. I’m glad for you, Sam.” I set my glass closer to Keegan and nod at him. “More, please.”

  Keegan’s lips press into a line as he pours me some more, but he doesn’t ask again what’s wrong.

  I take a big sip, then decide to slow it down a bit so I don’t fall on my face in the next six minutes. My lips tingle, and my head is blissfully cloudy as the band returns from their break and begins a slow, sad Irish song.

  Maggie bustles by and offers me a smile. “Hello there. I thought you’d left for the evening.”

  “I did, too, but it seems I need to get drunk.”

  Her eyes narrow, much like her older brother’s. “Well, we all have those nights, don’t we? Let me know if you need anything. Like food to sop up some of that Jameson.”

  “Then I wouldn’t be as drunk, and that would be sad.”

  She chuckles and loads her tray with the drinks Keegan placed out for her. “That’s true. I’ll be back.”

  She bustles away, and I take another swig of whiskey, then blow out a breath as the liquid burns its way down my throat.

  It only takes me about half an hour to get good and thoroughly buzzed. I certainly wouldn’t be able to drive at this point.

  There are two of everybody.

  It’s delightful.

  “More, please,” I say to Keegan, but he just slides a glass of water in front of me. “Hey, what’s the big idea?”

  “You need some water in you before I give you more alcohol,” he says. I begrudgingly take a sip of water and frown at him over the rim. “Would you like to tell me what’s got you so riled up, darling?”

  “Fine.” I wake up my phone and bring up the photos, then toss the cell over to Keegan.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “My ex with my so-called friend in Aruba.”

  His green gaze—the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life—flies to mine.

  “I don’t even know why I’m upset,” I admit and prop my chin in my hand. “I mean, I want nothing to do with Troy. He’s a first-class jerk. And, obviously, Heather isn’t my friend. But she was in my wedding—even though it didn’t happen. And now she’s all cozied up on my vacation. What should have been my honeymoon.”

  “Of course, you’re upset,” he says as he sets my phone down on the bar. “Even if you don’t love him, it’s still a betrayal.”

  “Mostly, I’m upset about Aruba,” I admit quietly. “I was so excited for that vacation. I’d been working for my dad pretty much non-stop for two years, and I needed to get away. Somewhere warm and tropical.”

  “How long did you work for your da?”

  “Since college. I wanted to be a weather girl, but my parents would not let me do that, even though I have a degree in meteorology and everything. They made me work for the family business, running numbers all day. And, yes, they’re wealthy, and I had an indulged life living in their guest house, but everyone needs a vacation now and then. Right, Sam?”

  The older man smiles my way a
nd nods his gray head. “That they do, lass.”

  “I love that the Irish call me lass,” I say with a happy sigh. “Anyway, I sound spoiled. And maybe I am. Or was. But I’m so happy to be out of there. I love this job way more than I did being a bookkeeper. And I hated living in the guest house. Even though I could technically come and go as I pleased, they still kept tabs on me. I’m twenty-eight years old, and my mother would always comment if I brought shopping bags home or if I got in late. And I just realized, aside from a few personal things, I don’t own anything. I don’t even have a couch. Or a bed.”

  I lay my face on my arms in despair.

  “I’m pathetic.”

  “I don’t think you’re pathetic at all, sweet girl.”

  I raise my head at the new voice. A nice woman just down the bar smiles at me. “It sounds to me like you got yourself out of a bad situation, and that’s not pathetic in my book.”

  “I agree,” Frank, the regular customer I’ve been waiting on every day for two weeks, agrees from beside her.

  “I love you guys,” I say. “I really do. You’re here for me, and that’s what friends do. You’re my real friends.”

  “That’s right,” Sam says and pats my hand in a fatherly manner, making me all warm inside.

  “Maybe it’s time for you to go to bed,” Maggie suggests.

  “Yeah.” But I don’t get up. “But I like hanging out with you guys. It makes me feel less alone.”

  “What have you done to her?” Shawn asks as he walks out of the kitchen and sees me sitting at the bar.

  “Hey. Have I told you that your family is like, hot? Because you are. All of you. I mean, I haven’t met Maeve or Kane yet, but I’m quite sure they’re as good-looking as the rest of you. It should be illegal. Or at least come with a warning. You could put one of those chalkboards out front that says: Warning - the people who work here will melt your panties right off.”

  I sip my water and look around as everyone stares at me in surprise and then busts up laughing.

  “I’m not trying to be funny.”

  “And that’s why you are,” Frank says. “And you’re right. The O’Callaghans are a bonny bunch, and that’s the truth of it.”

  “Man, you aren’t kidding.”

  Shawn kisses me on the cheek and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “How can I help you, sweet girl? Can I get you some stew?”

  “Nachos,” I reply. “I think this is a job for nachos.”

  “Coming right up.”

  “Hey, guys,” I hear and turn at the sound of the new voice. A gorgeous blonde approaches the bar, a slightly older version of Keegan behind her. “We decided to come in for a while.”

  “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” My words are a tiny bit slurred, but I can’t help myself. She is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

  “And you’re my new best friend,” she replies with a laugh.

  “Stasia, this is Izzy,” Keegan says. “My newest employee. Anastasia is married to my brother, Kane. The bozo behind her.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say and then look down. “Oh, wow. You’re pregnant. In a bar.”

  “I’m very pregnant,” she agrees and pats her belly. “This little one should be coming along in a few weeks. Oh, and it’s kicking.”

  “Can I feel?” I ask. “It’s okay if you’d rather not, but I’ve never felt that before.”

  “Of course.” She takes my hand and places it over the side of her stomach, and after just a couple of seconds, I feel a flutter under my hand.

  “Oh, wow.”

  “The little stinker kicks me all the damn time.”

  “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” I ask.

  “No.” Anastasia looks up at her husband. “Kane didn’t want to know until he or she is born.”

  “The surprise is fun,” I say, feeling myself starting to sober up. Shawn comes out of the kitchen with my nachos, Lexi on his heels.

  “You’re here!” Lexi exclaims and hugs Anastasia tightly. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

  “They’ve been in Ireland for the past month or so,” Keegan informs me.

  “We’re happy to be home, as well,” Anastasia says. “I was worried they wouldn’t let me fly because I’m so far along in my pregnancy, but I’ve been perfectly healthy, and the doctor gave me the thumbs-up.”

  “When are Ma and Da coming?” Shawn asks.

  “Next week,” Keegan answers. “I spoke with Da this morning.”

  “They wouldn’t miss the birth of their first grandchild,” Lexi interjects. “We’re all thrilled for you.”

  “Even I am, and I just met you,” I say as I finally take my hand away from the round belly. “That’s not awkward at all.”

  “Nope. Because you’re my new bestie, remember?” Stasia says with a wink.

  Man, I really like these people.

  The nachos were a bad idea.

  I moan and turn over in bed, frowning when I hear what sounds like loud whispering on the other side of the bedroom door.

  “You knew she was staying here.” That’s Keegan.

  “But I didn’t know she was sleeping in your bed,” Maggie’s voice retorts. “You’re not supposed to sleep with the employees, Keegan, no matter how pretty they are.”

  Aww. She thinks I’m pretty.

  “I’m not sleeping with her,” he says. “Jesus, Mary Margaret, she’s in my bed, but I sleep on the couch.”

  I sit up and press a hand to my head. Ugh, last night was fun, but I won’t be repeating it anytime soon.

  I stand and open the door, then smile at the three people on the other side.

  “Hi.”

  Maggie turns. “Oh, good morning. We were whispering so we wouldn’t wake you up.”

  “Right. Scream-whispering is super quiet.”

  The other woman laughs and then turns to Keegan. “I like her.”

  “You must be Maeve.”

  “And you’re Izzy.” Maeve shakes my hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I had a conference in Hawaii and decided to stay for a couple of weeks for vacation.”

  I blink at her and then laugh. It’s that or cry. “Seems everyone is getting tropical vacations these days.”

  “I highly recommend it,” Maeve says and then gets an elbow to the stomach from Maggie. “What?”

  “Anyway, I just wanted to save Keegan’s reputation. He’s not sleeping with me. He’s taking the couch, which I’ve told him repeatedly he doesn’t have to do. I would probably fit there better than he does.”

  “I thought there was an air mattress up here,” Maggie says. “I’m so sorry, Izzy. You can come stay with me. I actually have an extra bedroom with a bathroom. It’s just sitting there unused.”

  I frown and glance up at Keegan, who still hasn’t said anything. “But would you be okay here by yourself?”

  His lips turn up in humor as Maeve laughs her butt off.

  “He’s going to be just fine,” Maeve insists.

  “You don’t have to go if you’d rather not,” Keegan says. “I’m not kicking you out. But, yes, I’ll be fine if you decide to go and stay with Maggie. I’ll still see you when you come to work.”

  I nod, thinking it over. It would be nice to have a little more space, and Keegan would get his bed back.

  “I think it’s kind of a no-brainer. You need your bed, Keegan.”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s up to you.”

  “Are you sure? I can start paying you rent next month,” I say to Maggie.

  “Oh, we’ll figure it out. And, yes, I’m sure. We can move you over this morning.”

  I smile, starting to get excited at the thought of sharing a place with Maggie. I’ve come to think of the other woman as a good friend.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Oh, and these arrived for you,” Keegan says, pointing at two brown boxes. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

  “Thanks.” I stare at the box
es and then sigh. “Does someone have a knife?”

  “Here.” Keegan returns with a pocketknife, slices open the tape on the boxes, and then goes back to brewing the coffee.

  The man is handy to have around.

  I open the first box and find my laptop, some papers, my phone charger, makeup, and hair supplies all thrown inside.

  Nothing is wrapped.

  At first glance, I’d wager that my laptop is ruined.

  “Dude, that’s a big mess,” Maeve says.

  “Your poor computer,” Maggie agrees.

  “I guess he was a little bitter,” I reply with a sigh and set the box aside, then reach for the other, bigger box. “This should be clothes.”

  I’m not wrong. He tossed my clothes into the box, along with a couple of pairs of shoes. One of the flats doesn’t have its match. And then I scowl at a pair of pink, lace panties.

  “These aren’t mine.”

  The girls stare at me. Even Keegan turns around in surprise.

  “What the fuck?” he asks.

  “Exactly. You know what? Throw it all away. I don’t want any of it. There’s nothing in there that I can’t live without.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Keegan says as he passes me a fresh mug of coffee. “And I’ll hit that computer with a sledgehammer a few times, just to make sure no one can get any info off it.”

  “Oh, can I do that part? Might be good therapy.”

  Chapter 4

  ~Izzy~

  “I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper to Maggie, who’s standing beside me at the cake table.

  “Why?” she asks. “You were invited.”

  “Yeah, but it’s a family thing. I haven’t even been around for a month yet. I definitely shouldn’t be at Anastasia’s baby shower.”

  “You and me both,” Shawn says as he joins us. “Since when are men invited to these things?”

  “Baby shower parties have been co-ed for a while now,” Maggie informs her brother. “And it’s fun.”

  “At least we get cake,” Shawn replies.

  Out of all of the siblings, Shawn is more even-keeled and the quietest. I feel like he’s the calm in the storm. That the other siblings are more outspoken, the girls are certainly lively, and Shawn is this stoic, handsome guy who anchors them all.