Page 47 of Since We're Here
After touching my glass, Patrick keeps his eyes on me.
“You’ve made quite the impression here.”
“Have I?”
He shrugs. “On other people. Like Saoirse and Ian. And Ronan, and Declan. Not me.”
I bite my lip. “Well, I’m glad I haven’t totally fucked your pub up.”
“You’ve slid into this job smoother than anyone I’ve hired in years. I have a hard time getting people to even show up. You flew into Ireland one day and grabbed yourself a job the nextinstead of hopping on a tour bus or lying around. I’m quite impressed.”
“Thanks.” A warm, cozy feeling fills my insides. It’s probably the beer, but compliments don’t hurt. “I had an idea, actually.”
“What now?” Patrick sighs.
“Hear me out. Why don’t you get together with some of the other businesses in town and create a Dingle Tourist Passport of sorts? Visitors can get a stamp or sticker or something for stopping by Dingle Brew, Ian’s tattoo shop, the bike rental place, here, obviously... and then they get a free t-shirt, or sticker, or print of Dingle. Something like that.”
As I talk, Patrick’s words bounce around in my head. Quite impressed? I don’t think I’ve ever been especially impressive at work. I do a good job managing restaurants. I’m a strong enough manager. But I’m super replaceable, as are most people in the restaurant industry. He’s probably just buttering me up so I don’t walk out on him like the last manager.
Ian slides two fresh pints in front of us. I didn’t even realize he’d gone for more.
“I actually like that idea.” Patrick raises his eyebrows thoughtfully.
“Yeah?” I grin at him. “Can you tell me more about how good I am at my job?” I stare into his eyes and drain my pint.
“I gave you enough compliments to last a lifetime. To balance them out, I can tell you what I find annoying about you. You’re always fecking smiling.”
“I can’t help it if I’m a sunshine-y kind of person.” I bite my lip and his eyes flick down to my mouth. In turn, I look at his. What would it be like to kiss him again?
“Even though your boss is kind of an arsehole.”
I let out a laugh. “Nah. I think he’s just misunderstood.”
One side of his mouth turns up at that, and he starts to say something else, but stops abruptly with a glance at the entranceto the pub. I’m mid-gulp of my second pint and enjoying the warmth spreading throughout my body. The easy, relaxed look vanishes off his face and is replaced by a cold mask turned to the door.
“Patrick? You okay?”
He looks like he’s turned into a different person.What just happened here?
“Oh, shite,” Saoirse says.
I follow her and her brother’s gaze to the door, where there’s a new trio of people heading to the bar. Liam and another couple holding hands who I don’t recognize.
“What? Is it Liam?” I glance from Saoirse to Patrick. His teeth are clenched so hard, I’m afraid he’s going to crack them, and his mouth is turned down in a deep frown. Any light in his eyes has been completely extinguished.
“It’s not about Liam.” Saoirse’s eyes narrow at the group as they shake off their jackets and look around.
“Who is with him?”
There’s dark pain in Patrick’s face. It’s in the space between his eyes, where a worry line deepens. And the way his muscular shoulders are raised so much higher than they were while we were joking around a moment ago.
The group is now at the bar, and Liam turns and throws his arm around the unknown woman’s shoulder. The woman laughs and pushes him away.
“Hello, hi, someone tell me what’s going on?”
Ian sighs. “That’s Cara. Liam’s sister.”
My jaw drops.
