Page 12 of Power Play with My Brother's Irish Friends

Our water and a basket of bread arrived courtesy of a woman in a black apron. She smiled at each of us. “I’ll be right back to take your order.”

Austin sipped his water, tore a chunk off the bread to dip it into the butter, and shoved it into his mouth. “Like what?”

“Not eating like a barbarian, for one.” I twisted my mouth to the side and shook my head at him when he repeated the action using an even bigger bite.

He talked around the mouthful. “Sorry. Can’t hear you over the deliciousness.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Okay. I’m listening now.”

I rolled my eyes, playing into the younger sister role. He enjoyed tormenting me, but he had my back. Always.

He pushed the bread toward me. “How can I improve my image? I need to show the guys, be a role model.”

“You already are.” I held up one finger, and ticked off the items one by one. “You’re respectful in interviews. You’re charming and you don’t pick fights outside the rink. Those are three big ones. You’re also sweet to your followers, even the ones who show up to heckle you.”

“Yeah, that one’s not always easy.” He sat back when the woman approached again.

We rattled off matching orders for steaks, baked potatoes, salad, and a dessert. Austin didn’t bat an eye when I stole the rest of the bread and hoarded it for myself. Once the woman left, he picked up the conversation. “You still think I can be better? How?”

I took my time answering, keeping the list short and succinct. “Keep up the charm. Consider having gifts for the kids who show up to watch you play. You’re the leader during group interviews, and you always manage the questions. Consider giving the others a chance to talk, the ones you can trust not to go off the rails.”

He nodded along with each point. Austin struggled to give up control, and that showed in the interviews. It wasn’t a bad trait, but it sometimes made him come across as egotistical and arrogant. “I’ll work on that. How’s the house situation?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but a shout brought both our heads up.

“There they are.” Three voices chorused together.

Austin sighed. “Should’ve known.”

Patrick, Duncan, and Charlie converged on our table.

Charlie scooted in next to me, followed by Patrick. Duncan took the seat next to Austin and smacked both hands on the table. “Imagine running across the two ‘o you here.”

“Can’t believe we picked the same restaurant as you.” Patrick leaned around Charlie. His lips lifted in a wide smile.

Somehow, I doubted it had been an accident, but I kept my lips pressed tight and watched Austin’s reaction.

“”Let’s have a round to celebrate.” Duncan rose. “My treat.” He darted off to the bar before Austin or I could call him back.

Patrick drummed his fists on the table. “Now it’s a party.”

Charlie’s shoulder pressed into mine, the touch comforting even as it stirred up all the latent feelings I’d been trying to repress.

Duncan carried a tray over to our table and passed out bottles of beer. Seconds later, the same woman who’d taken our order stopped and slid five shots onto the wooden tabletop. “Enjoy.”

Toasting each of us with the beer, Duncan downed his shot and chased it with the frothy brew. “Come on, drink up.” He used one finger to slide my shot closer, then did the same with Austin.

The quiet dinner Austin planned evaporated with that first drink. His voice deepened, the Irish brogue sparking something in my middle when he launched into a story about a game he’d played the year before in Ireland. “You shoulda seen it. Best moment of my life.” He took Austin’s shot and gulped it down, slamming the glass on the table.

I understood how he’d gotten himself in trouble. His high energy outlook on life mixed with the party atmosphere. Throw in the simmering anger burning hot behind his eyes and he was a powder keg one wrong look away from blowing.

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