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“You think so?” She faced me head on, tucking her hair behind an ear as her high cheekbones deepened red.
“Yes. And when you kill it, go out and have some fun. Celebrate.”
She flashed me her straight, white teeth before turning away again.
I grabbed hold of a file on my desk and flipped it open.
“Not too much fun, though, Anna,” I said, and regretted it almost before the words were out of my mouth.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ANNA
The smell of oats and barley floated to my nose as I walked past a few pubs.
The lampposts had cute clovers carved in the stone beneath the bulbs and were illuminated now that the sun had fallen from view. A dark canvas of blackish blue hung as the backdrop for stars that twinkled like diamonds, dancing alongside a crescent moon, which was tipped over on its back. Finally—a clear night.
The city of Dublin was much more intimate than I had anticipated. People were extremely friendly. Well, barring the two crazed guys from Monday. Overall, however, the city had truly grown on me.
I rounded a corner and stopped, realizing I had found my destination. Different-colored bricks gave the building a historical, medieval feel. At the center of the building was a large archway with an open wrought iron door. Black-painted barrels sat out front, a nod to the Irish distillery days.
I swallowed my nerves and walked under the arch and over to the outdoor patio, where Rick had texted me he was waiting.
People were clustered around high- and low-top tables, watching sports on the TVs mounted to the walls, toasting pints of beer. I spotted Rick, Kate, and Narisa, plus another one of the interns—Kate’s partner, Craig.
Rick looked over his shoulder, spotting me. So far, I’d decided Rick was a pretty good guy. And not bad-looking, either. He was a couple of years older than me and had sandy-blond hair, brown eyes, and a slightly crooked nose. And he had adorable dimples when he smiled. He was sort of a geek trapped in the body of a hunk. He wasn’t my type, although perhaps that was because tall, dark, and off-limits was now my type. But it shouldn’t be. Not with what I had gone through with my ex.
And yet, all I could think about was Adam.
Last night I had been sitting around my hotel, perusing the Internet in search of a safe and affordable place to rent, and somehow I found myself doing more research on McGregor Enterprises. I still had a nagging feeling about the men who had accosted me outside Leslie’s apartment and their relationship to Adam.
But everything appeared on the up-and-up when I checked out the company’s history and credentials. Of course, if there was something illegal going on, would it be listed online for all to see?
But as I searched, I stumbled upon other tidbits. I discovered that the pro-football team Adam’s family owned was pretty much Adam’s baby. And there was a match tomorrow night. Adam was probably heading to Italy for the weekend.
I tucked away thoughts of Adam, however, as I faced my coworkers.
“Hey, Rick. Kate. Narisa. Craig.” I tipped my head to them each as they huddled together by the bar. It was actually a nice night tonight—nice enough to be outdoors. But too cool to go without a jacket.
I looked down at my jeans, boots, and leather jacket, wondering why I hadn’t dressed up more. Kate and Narisa were on a different playing field than me right now in their they-must-be-freezing-their-asses-off skirts and barely there tops. Did they miss the memo about it being the end of September in Ireland?
Of course, I’d learned right away that landing an Irishman was more important to Kate than landing an Irish job. At least the woman knew what she wanted—I’d give her that.
“Sláinte. May God wreak havoc on you both next week, so the rest of us fools have a chance at the job,” Craig said, winking a blue eye at me. Both Rick and I laughed at his toast.
I was still completely elated that Rick and I had won the presentation pitch yesterday. It had been Rick’s idea to celebrate, but he had been tied up last night, so a couple of us had made plans to get together tonight. Rick had recommended this pub, even though Kate had wanted to hit up the Guinness Storehouse. Rick, a native Dubliner, had insisted the Storehouse would be far too touristy. Of course, the sign outside this bar said it was the oldest pub in Ireland, so I had to assume there’d be a couple internationals inside here, as well.
“Thank you.” I took the glass of dark beer that Rick handed me.
“You rocked it, mate!” Rick elbowed me and clinked his glass of amber liquor with mine. A few drops spilled on my hand.
“You too,” I answered. “Everyone did.” I smiled at my new friends, hating that we were in a competition against each other. It made things a little awkward.
Rick raised his glass again. “But one more toast!” A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he placed one hand over his heart. “To quote the great, well, somebody—‘Here’s to women’s kisses, and to whiskey, amber clear. Not as sweet as women’s kisses, but a darn sight more sincere.’”
Kate, Narisa, and I looked at each other at the same time, trying to stifle our laughter. “Say what?” Kate flicked her wrist in the air. “Are the stereotypes real? Are all the Irish either poets or fighters?”
Despite the crowd of people gathering near the bar, Rick swooped to one knee and took Kate’s hand. “Yes, my lady.” He drew out the words like a lullaby, and we girls couldn’t stop ourselves from laughing.
