Page 3 of An Irish Kiss
Wise words.Maybe Gran’s encouragement for him to leave was because she knew things were about to hit the fan at work.Maybe time away would help him understand if it really was a him problem, and if so how much of that could be blamed on his family history.Not that he was looking for a scapegoat.But it would be nice to know he wasn’t the complete loser some people seemed to think.
Hefting his bag, he paused, studying the castle.Grey stone walls three stories high, ivy climbing up the walls past arched windows and a tower, all gave solid fairy-tale vibes.This was once somebody’s home?It felt insane.Growing up in a small single-storey three-bedroom red brick veneer place in Sydney’s western suburbs, a place like this couldn’t be further from his reality.Unless he was living in a Mongolian yurt.
He crunched over white gravel and ascended the three shallow stone steps then entered the main door.Paused, as the magnificence of the lobby area smacked him over the head.Was that knight in shining armour standing in the corner really real?
He glanced around.The space was quiet.Nobody was at the registration desk.“Hello?”
He was tempted to ring the bell, but doing so felt way too pretentious, like he was playing lord of the manor, when it had already been established today that clearly he wasn’t.
So instead of waiting there he moved up to a landing into a lounge area which he guessed was for guests, given its proximity to the foyer and front desk.If it wasn’t, well, what was the point of putting great big comfy chairs positioned next to huge picture windows that overlooked the stunning coast?He shoved his bag under the French-polished side table, and sank into the plush armchair.From here he could see the blue-grey water, the green trees and hills in the distance, and what looked like oncoming darker blue shafts of sky that he guessed was rain.Soon it would hit here, and the four seasons in one day his grandmother had warned him about would come true.
His eyelids closed, and he jerked them open again.But soon the weariness of a day and a half of travel poured across him, weighing him down, and his head lolled.
Fine, then.He might be nearly thirty but a little Nanna nap wouldn’t hurt.And he’d be sure to wake when the receptionist returned.Hopefully.
So he made himself comfortable, toeing off his sneakers, grabbing a jumper from his backpack he’d needed to keep warm on the plane, and using that and a blue cushion as pillows.And he closed his eyes, sinking into slumber, and into dreams where his boss’s taunts were stopped by a knight in shining armour, whose helmet came off to reveal leaves in red hair.
CHAPTERTWO
Rory hurried down the stairs, hoping her damp hair wouldn’t mark her white shirt.It was still too early for guests to check in, but when she’d returned inside after that unsettling encounter with the Aussie it was to discover her professional attire had been anything but.Ugh.Thank goodness he wasn’t a guest here at Castle Griffin—how could she ever live down that first impression?Who thought mud and twigs in hair a style statement?She’d relished a quick warming shower, then enjoyed a spot of lunch and tea.She’d then been drawn into talking to Mam, then Rebecca who wanted to know if Rory would be okay if she didn’t come in tomorrow for her shift, thanks to a medical appointment for her son.Rory had instantly assured her they would manage—she would manage, somehow, despite the fact she was working tomorrow at the bookstore—and added little Thomas to her prayers.So now she was clean, dry, warm, fed, and ready to tackle the hotel’s social media, as per her role in the family hotel business, until the first of the guests checked in an hour or so.
A quick glance around the lobby revealed all was the same as before, so she went into the office and began work.If someone arrived she’d no doubt hear them, and they could always ring the bell if need be.
She was soon lost in the world of Instagram posts and Facebook, updating and refreshing with tags and keywords and all the things that people said would help shift algorithms and gain traction and get more eyes on their hotel, thus resulting in more bookings.This naturally led to a rabbit-hole of things she never knew she was interested in, such as cute videos of tiny bunnies eating strawberries, like a modern-day Peter Rabbit tale.Or alpacas smiling, or lambs springing high in grassy meadows, or camels—
“Ahem.”
She jumped, startled, then blew out a breath.“Ash!What are you doing here?”
Aisling grinned, her freckles on her nose uncovered by makeup for once.“Scaring you, obviously.”
Rory rolled her eyes.“I thought you were in Cork for another day.”
“Tomorrow’s class isn’t on, and today’s finished early, so here I am.”
“Well, good.”
“Aww, it’s nice to be missed.”
“Actually, it’s good because we need you to do the cleaning for Rebecca tomorrow.”
“Why can’t she do it?”
“Thomas is sick.”
Her sister’s face softened.“Ah, poor little boy.Then of course I will.You’re at the bookshop, aren’t you?”
Rory nodded.“Which is why I’m trying to do this work now, to get ahead on things.”So the mouse wheel of her life didn’t reach completely unmanageable proportions.
“Okay, okay, message received.I’ll get out of your hair.”
She grimaced at the reminder of what had happened before.
“What’s that look for?”Aisling asked.
“Oh, nothing.”Except it had felt like everything.
“That face is not saying nothing.Come on.What gives?”
