Page 15 of Twist of Fate
“Is this your first time in Ireland?” I find myself asking because, clearly, I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Yes! It’s our first trip alone in years. We’re empty nesters,” she explains, gesturing toward her husband. He has a kind face and a shy demeanor. He offers a half-wave. Definitely the quieterone of the two.“The kids were plum pissed that we were going without them, but it was cheaper to go in the off-season when they’re both away at college. Plus, I think we deserve it, don’t you?”
“Um, absolutely,” I answer, even though I have no idea either way.
“What about you? First time?”
“No,” I answer, my mood turning sour. “Second.”And this time, I’m staying.
Fortunately, the pilot chooses this moment to announce our final descent into Dublin, putting an end to any need for me to keep talking with the cheerful couple next to me.
My gaze returns to the window as my thoughts drift back to the past.
Back to the last time I flew into this airport.
I thought my heart had been broken then.
I had no fucking clue.
* * *
The journey from the airport to my hotel is a whirlwind, and more than once, I find myself asking,“What the hell am I doing?”
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself consistently for the past six weeks.
Ever since, I spent a drunken night scrolling the internet, and somehow, instead of booking a trip to Ireland, I ended up moving here.
My stomach flip-flops as I take a look around the modern hotel room that will serve as my home base until I can find a suitable apartment. I’ve been told housing in Dublin can be tricky. It’s expensive, and there is a lot of demand.
Add in the fact that I’ve only been guaranteed a job for six months. Even with all the money in my bank account, I’m not sure I can convince a landlord to rent me—a foreigner—an apartment for such a short time.
But this is what Mom wanted.Sort of.
A pang of sadness rips through my chest, and I swiftly stuff it down. Nope. Not today.
Since I’ll only be here for six months, I’ve put most of my things in storage, and everything else was shoved into the four suitcases in front of me.
Oh, and emotional baggage. I brought a fuck ton of that, too. Can’t forget that.
Staring at the stack of suitcases for a few more seconds, I let out a sigh. “Yeah, fuck this.”
I didn’t sit on a plane for hours to hole myself up in a hotel room all day. I came here for a reason.
Grabbing my purse, I head for the door.
What’s the saying? Seize the bull by the horns?
All right, Ireland is my bull, and we’re about to get real friendly.
* * *
“Good morning to you, Miss Farrell,” the hotel doorman says with a wolfish grin as I step out onto the curb. I quickly pull up the hood of my jacket, hoping to protect the curls I just styled in my long strawberry-blond hair.
“Good morning, Sean,” I greet him by name. I’ve only been here for a few days, but I’ve made it a point to get to know the staff. It’s not just polite; it’s mutually beneficial. “I thought I requested sunshine today. It’s raining.Again.”
Chuckling, he pulls out an umbrella and holds it over my head while I wait. “It’s January, Miss Farrell. You’re going to see a lot of rain, I’m afraid. Better get yourself one of these.” He points up to the umbrella. “And some wellies.”
“Wellies?”
