Page 29 of The Associate

The look she flashed Gio begged the question,You know where we are, right?Sure, it seemed ludicrous for Gio to impose one rule when certain activities in the pub’s back office bent and broke others. Customers didn’t see everything behind the scenes, however. Flying under the radar required concessions, and Gio reminded Aggie she had to wait a while. “If you want,” he said to her, helping her with the glasses, “you can practice on me after we close.”

“Can’t. I have a date.”

Gio arched an eyebrow at her. Lonnegan’s closed at one in the morning now. “Where?”

“A nice little bistro up the block called Nunya Bizness.” Aggie laughed. A blast of cold hit them from the right, indicating a new customer. “Incoming,” she said, her word for when somebody claimed a barstool, and moved to one side. Gio glanced at the end of the bar, where the newcomer was unwinding a thick scarf from around their neck and pulling off their knit cap…

…to reveal a head of gorgeous ginger hair flecked with wet snow. Conor Malloy sported a mustache and short beard now, but Gio focused more on the man’s eyes. Lively and bright as ever and, at the moment, fixed on him.

His heart thumping harder, drowning out the music piping through Aggie’s app setup, Gio brought over a fresh coaster and a bowl of pretzels. “Dia dhuit.” He wanted to sound nonchalant, but the excitement he felt spilled over into his voice. He damn near chirped, seeing Conor sitting before him.

“Hello, yourself.” Conor’s smile was an all-over caress, an invisible tease Gio felt stirring in his jeans. “This place turned you Irish?”

Gio gave a soft laugh. “I learned a few phrases. Getting ready for St. Patrick’s Day.”

“Of course.” Folding his arms on the bar, Conor panned his gaze past Gio at all the shelves and their contents. “You haven’t changed a thing, I see.”

“It wasn’t broke, nothing to fix,” Gio said, following Conor’s slow track across the wall behind him. Hugh Malloy’s original wall of fame remained intact—the celebrity photos did well for the pub’s cache, so the don believed. Gio liked having the pictures with young Conor close as well.

“It looks great.” Conor paused, his face flushed. “It’s fecking freezing out. I’d love an Irish coffee.”

“You got it.” Fulfilling that order meant fetching coffee from the pot at the other end of the bar, and passing Aggie to get there. Gio ignored her wide grin and waggling eyebrows as he poured the coffee into a round-footed glass mug. Just because Conor decided to visit an old haunt didn’t mean he’d come for Gio.

Still, one could hope.

Gio prepared the rest of the drink in front of Conor, and asked about the Malloys. “They are well,” Conor told him as he supervised Gio stirring Irish whiskey into the coffee. His eyes widened at the application of the whipped cream. Gio liked to think Conor’s mind bloomed with alternative uses for it.

“They are settled in retirement housing outside Dublin, so they’re not far,” Conor added. He looped his fingers around the mug handle, but paused before sipping. “I try to visit often.”

He drank through the cream, getting some on the tip of his nose. Gio longed to lean forward and lick it away. The few patrons in the pub weren’t paying attention, and if they were, fuck ’em.

“Happy to hear it. How’s the location management thing?”

Conor wiped the cream from his nose with his finger and tapped his lower lip. “It’s why I’m here, actually. The studio acquired the rights to a book set in the area. They want to go for authenticity and they have the budget to accomplish it.”

“So…you’re scouting sites in town for real this time.”Intriguing. Gio let him talk.

“The story is set in the eighties, and there are places around here that haven’t changed much since then,” Conor continued. “One site I’m looking for is an Irish pub.” He paused and held Gio’s gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to know one that’s available for a few months?”

Gio felt his lower lip crack when he smiled. “Yeah, I know a place,” he said. “The manager is quite amiable, too. He’d be open to hearing a pitch.” He crooked his neck toward the back doorway leading to the office. “He might be in now. Want to check? Happy to escort you.”

“Sure.” Conor pushed his Irish coffee aside and slid off the stool. “Why don’t you bring that along?” he asked, indicating the whipped cream canister.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Conor’s studio had indeed optioned a book to film. Mona had read it and recommended it to him a few years ago, independent of his job, and he thought it might make a good movie one day. That he was assigned to scout locations for it happened by serendipity.

This wasn’t the only town on the east coast with antiquated buildings and an Irish pub, but Conor knew the streets. He also wanted to satisfy his curiosity, and the business trip approved by his superiors now became personal.

A month after the pub had sold to the San Gaetanos, Conor returned to Dublin when he felt confident enough in his father’s improvement. The Malloys had decided on their own to return to their home country, and Conor was only too happy to find them a reputable assisted living facility. Cousins and the prospects of school reunions aside, Gio remained the one true reason he’d want to return. However, Conor had expected the passage of time to dilute his attraction to Gio, and vice versa.

Yet, the moment he saw those amber eyes soften with quiet desire, Conor bade goodbye to his reserve. He checked Gio’s fingers for a wedding band and, seeing just bare skin, aimed high. Gio waved him toward the back and informed Aggie he was on break. “Don’t touch anything,” he instructed the young woman as he untied his apron, and Conor chuckled at her heavy sigh.

Da’s old office changed little as well, Conor saw as he stepped inside. The same posters and framed photos hung on the walls, and the same books and binders slanted against each other on the far wall shelves. Conor imagined the biggest change here involved the ubiquitous ‘extra accounting books’ that defined mafia business strategies, but he wasn’t here to question Gio about his work ethic.

The door closed behind him. Gio pressed himself against Conor’s back in a loose embrace. “Am I correct to assume your location scouting story is bullshit?” he asked, and kissed the back of Conor’s neck. “I mean, you’re not pulling away.”

Quite the contrary. Conor melted into Gio’s touch and tilted up his chin, baring his throat for when Gio steered him so they stood face to face. When the kisses trailed upward to Conor’s lips, he tasted cold lemon-lime soda and salt. Everything else, from the way Gio palmed his ass to the urgent press of their groins, felt as though the universe had pressed an unpause button. He’d missed this more than he realized.

Conor tapered off the kiss and swiped the tip of his nose along Gio’s cheek, showing his affection. “Partly,” he said. “I am in town for work, and I am looking for a pub like Lonnegan’s for the shoot. It would be the primary setting in the film.”

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