Page 39 of Hope & Harmony

Joel claimed a table near a small makeshift stage, nodding his thanks when the bartender walked over and handed him a menu.

“Welcome to Pat’s Pub. I’m Padraig. Haven’t seen you here before. You live in Baltimore, or are you just passing through?”

“Just passing through,” Joel confided. “I met one of your waitresses, Andi, earlier today, and she suggested I give the place a try. I was hoping to sit in her section,” he added.

“Well, I think you’re about as close to her section as you can get.” Padraig nodded toward the stage. “She’s not waiting tables tonight. She’s singing.”

Joel glanced toward the stage, noting the tatty guitar set on its stand and the lone microphone. “She sings?”

“She’s got one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard. And my aunt is Teagan Collins.”

It wasn’t often that someone could genuinely shock Joel, but Padraig had managed when he casually dropped his famous aunt’s name.

“Teagan…Collins.” Joel was no stranger to the music industry. Hell, he’d been working as a music producer for twelve years. Teagan Collins was one of the biggest names there was. She and her husband, Sky Mitchell, have owned the top of the charts for the better part of three decades.

Suddenly, a light went on.

“Pat’s Irish Pub,” Joel murmured. He’d watched a documentary on the life of Sky and Teagan several years ago. The pub was mentioned not only as the place where Teagan and Sky met but also as a sort of jumping board for other musicians. Hunter Maxwell had gotten his start here as a pub singer, and while she wasn’t discovered here, Aubrey Summers, the pop sensation, had married into the family and was reported to drop into the pub from time to time to give an impromptu show.

“You’ve heard of us?” Padraig was obviously pleased by that.

Joel nodded. “I’m a music producer. This pub has quite the reputation when it comes to showcasing talented musicians.”

“Yeah, well, the truth is we’ve just been lucky. Talent seems to find its way to our doorstep,” Padraig said humbly. “You really a music producer?”

“I am.”

Padraig sighed. “Damn. Looks like I’m about to lose a great waitress.” He gave Joel a wink. “What can I get you to drink?”

Joel ordered a National Bohemian beer—when in Rome—and Padraig returned to the bar.

Over the next hour, more patrons made their way into the pub, more than Joel would have expected, given it was a Sunday night. When Padraig delivered his food, he confided they were all there to hear Andi, bragging that she’d more than doubled the Sunday traffic since she’d started performing that night.

He had polished off his second beer and a plateful of the greatest fish and chips he’d ever eaten when Andi walked into the pub. She made her way to the stage, stopping to greet several people along the way.

“Joel,” she said with delight when she spotted him there. “You came.”

He stood up and gave her a quick hug. He wasn’t sure why it felt like they’d already progressed to that point, but Andi hugged him back, so the familiarity was shared. “It was a great recommendation.”

She glanced down at his empty plate. “Fish and chips? Excellent decision. They’re killer, aren’t they? I swear the cook, Riley Collins, is the best in the city.”

“Collins? She’s related to Padraig?”

“Yes. The Collins family has owned and operated this pub forever. It started with Patrick Collins and his wife, Sunday. Then some of their kids, and now there’s a lot of the third generation working here as well, Padraig included.” Andi clearly adored the Collins family. “Are you hanging out for a little while? I’m about to start my set.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

She smiled at his response, then climbed the stage, tuning her guitar for a minute before she started playing. For an hour, she sang an array of music, from popular bar tunes everyone sang along to and a few songs she’d written herself.

Joel was blown away. He’d known halfway through the first song Padraig had been right because there was no way Joel would allow someone as talented as Andi to continue working three dead-end jobs. Not when she was so obviously destined for much bigger things.

When her set ended, she rose and walked right over to his table. “You stayed.”

He pointed to the chair. “Can you join me for a little while?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I usually take a fifteen-minute break. Then I’ll do another set. I only do two on Sunday nights.”

Padraig walked over to hand her a glass of water. “Great job, Andi. As always. I’ve had a couple people ask if you’re going to sing ‘Bigger Dreams’ tonight?”

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