Anna

The smell of oats and barley floated to my nose as I walked past a few pubs, none of which was the one where I was to meet Rick and a few other interns.

The lampposts had cute clovers carved in the stone beneath the bulbs and were illuminated now that the sun had fallen from view. A dark canvas of blackish blue hung as the backdrop for stars that twinkled like diamonds, dancing alongside a crescent moon, which was tipped over on its back. Finally—a clear night.

The city of Dublin was much more intimate than I had anticipated. People were extremely friendly. Well, barring the two crazed guys from Monday. Overall, however, the city had truly grown on me.

I rounded a corner and stopped, realizing I had found my destination. Different colored bricks gave the building a historical, medieval feel. At the center of the building was a large archway with an open wrought iron door. Black painted barrels sat out front, a nod to the Irish distillery days.

I swallowed my nerves and walked under the arch and over to the outdoor patio, where Rick had texted me he was waiting.

People were clustered around high and low top tables, watching sports on the TVs mounted to the walls, toasting pints of beer. I spotted Rick, Kate, and Narisa, plus another one of the interns—Kate’s partner, Craig.

Rick looked over his shoulder, spotting me. So far, I’d decided Rick was a pretty good guy. And not bad looking, either. He was a couple of years older than me and had sandy blonde hair, brown eyes, and a slightly crooked nose. And he had adorable dimples when he smiled. He was sort of a geek trapped in the body of a hunk. He wasn’t my type, although perhaps that was because tall, dark, and off-limits was now my type. But it shouldn’t be. Not with what I had gone through with my ex.

And yet, all I could think about was Adam.

Last night I had been sitting around my hotel, perusing the Internet in search of a safe and affordable place to rent, and somehow I found myself doing more research on McGregor Enterprises. I still had a nagging feeling about the men who had accosted me outside Leslie’s apartment and their relationship to Adam.

But everything appeared on the up and up when I checked out the company’s history and credentials. Of course, if there was something illegal going on, would it be listed online for all to see?

But as I searched, I stumbled upon other tidbits. I discovered that the pro-football team Adam’s family owned was pretty much Adam’s baby. And there was a match tomorrow night. Adam was probably heading to Italy for the weekend.

I tucked away thoughts of Adam, however, as I faced my coworkers.

“Hey, Rick. Kate. Narisa. Craig.” I tipped my head to them each as they huddled together by the bar. It was actually a nice night tonight—nice enough to be outdoors. But too cool to go without a jacket.

I looked down at my jeans, boots, and leather jacket, wondering why I hadn’t dressed up more. Kate and Narisa were on a different playing field than me right now in their they-must-be-freezing-their-asses-off skirts and barely-there tops. Did they miss the memo about it being the end of September in Ireland?

Of course, I’d learned right away that landing an Irishman was more important to Kate than landing an Irish job. At least the woman knew what she wanted—I’d give her that.

“Sláinte. May God wreak havoc on you both next week, so the rest of us fools have a chance at the job,” Craig said, winking a blue eye at me. Both Rick and I laughed at his toast.

I was still completely elated that Rick and I had won the presentation pitch yesterday. It had been Rick’s idea to celebrate, but he had been tied up last night, so a couple of us had made plans to get together tonight. Rick had recommended this pub, even though Kate had wanted to hit up the Guinness Storehouse. Rick, a native Dubliner, had insisted the Storehouse would be far too touristy. Of course, the sign outside this bar said it was the oldest pub in Ireland, so I had to assume there’d be a couple internationals inside here, as well.

“Thank you.” I took the glass of dark beer that Rick handed me.

“You rocked it, mate!” Rick elbowed me and clinked his glass of amber liquor with mine. A few drops spilled on my hand.

“You too,” I answered. “Everyone did.” I smiled at my new friends, hating that we were in a competition against each other. It made things a little awkward.

Rick raised his glass again. “But one more toast!” A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he placed one hand over his heart. “To quote the great, well, somebody—‘Here’s to women’s kisses, and to whiskey, amber clear. Not as sweet as women’s kisses, but a darn sight more sincere.’”

Kate, Narisa, and I looked at each other at the same time, trying to stifle our laughter. “Say what?” Kate flicked her wrist in the air. “Are the stereotypes real? Are all the Irish either poets or fighters?”

Despite the crowd of people gathering near the bar, Rick swooped to one knee and took Kate’s hand. “Yes, my lady.” He drew out the words like a lullaby, and we girls couldn’t stop ourselves from laughing.

I realized that I’d misinterpreted Rick. He was straight edge and all business at work, but outside of the office, he was cool, confident, and quirky.

“Ah, mate.” Craig shook his head as Rick stood and Kate pulled her hand from his and fanned her face, chuckling. “Why does it have to be one or the other?”

“‘The reason the Irish are always fighting each other is they have no other worthy opponents.’” Rick sipped his golden brown whiskey.

“Oh, please.” Craig tipped his head back and laughed. “Get your own material, man.” He shook his head. “He’s been spouting quotes all week at work, driving me bloody nuts.”

Really? He hadn’t done it to me. Maybe he was shyer around the opposite sex—well, maybe until alcohol was in his blood.

“You’re a walking Hallmark card,” Kate joked.

“Um, I’ve never read a Hallmark card like that,” Narisa pointed out.

“Then you’ve never gotten a Saint Patrick’s day card, I take it?” Kate asked, her eyes wandering now, scoping out the crowd.

“Nope, can’t say I have.” Narisa smiled as Rick bumped his hip into her side, his eyes playful. Oh. So he had a crush on Narisa, which is why he’d been joking with Kate. Misdirection and all.

“Well, I hope the fighting thing is just a stereotype. I’d much prefer poetry.” A chill licked my spine, and I cringed. I hated fighting—more than hated it. But I didn’t want to think about that right now. I didn’t want to spoil my good mood.

“Inside or out?” Craig asked. Judging by how both Kate and Narisa were trembling, I figured we’d be going inside where live Irish music blared.

“In!” Narisa shouted.

We left the bar and walked through the courtyard. We passed by a tall, wooden post, which had dark brown signs as its branches, each one pointing the way to a different city and providing the distance in kilometers beneath each name. I chuckled at the sign for the North Pole, which was just below the word ‘bar.’ ‘Bar’ was a whopping seven meters away. I hoped no one drank so much that they needed guidance to find their way inside the bar.

Once inside, my eyes were drawn to the elderly musicians in the back of the pub. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting. They were rocking it out with violins, not guitars, which was pretty cool. The Irish tunes relaxed me as we made our way through the swarm of people in search of a table.

The interior of the pub was as unique as the exterior. More signposts decorated the gray blocks of stone that made up the walls. Strips of dark wood supported the ceiling.

But I halted in my tracks and stopped following my group as they made their way to one of the empty tables. My feet planted firm to the ground as my eyes fell upon a guy leaning with his back to the bar. His eyes swept over my body as I studied him. There was no way I could forget his face. He had pinned me to Les’s apartment building.

The man’s cold eyes gleamed with something sinister, and I stepped back, bumping into Narisa who had been trailing behind me. “Sorry,” I muttered, my eyes breaking the caged hold of the man’s. When I looked back over, he was gone.

“You okay?” Narisa asked.

“I, um.” I didn’t know what to do. Had I been seeing things, or was it a coincidence that the thug from the street was at the bar?

I placed a hand on my abdomen. “I’m suddenly not feeling so well. I think I’m gonna bail.” I handed her my nearly full beer glass and looked over at the others who had taken a seat at the table near the back of the bar. “I’m sorry. Can you tell everyone I need to jet?”

Narisa’s brown eyes found mine and she nodded. “Okay,” she said as if she wasn’t sure, but she also didn’t know me well enough to push.

“Thanks. See you Monday.” I didn’t wait for her response, but turned around and went back out the way I came in, scanning the crowd for him.

I darted under the archway and out to the street, throwing my hand up in the air. I looked over my shoulder one last time and froze. The guy was off to the side of the pub, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He was looking straight at me, but he didn’t approach. He didn’t say anything.

I ripped my gaze from his as the sound of tires breaking near me had me looking to the street.

A cab. Thank God.

I flung open the door, tucked myself safely inside, and sputtered out the name of my hotel.

“How are ya tonight?” the cabbie asked as we pulled away, and I scrambled to find my phone in my purse, not wanting to look out the window.

“I’m okay. How are you?” I softly asked as I scrolled to Adam’s number.

“Oh, an American? I love America. I haven’t actually been, but I think the country is just amazing.” He was older. His eyes found mine in the rearview mirror with a softness that gave me a sense of safety. I smiled back at him and relaxed a little, but kept my hand tight around my phone. I stared down at Adam’s name, wondering if I should call.