Page 64 of An Irish Hope

“What was his name again?”

“Drew.”

Andy’s head turned.

“Do we have a Drew in the house?” the barmaid called.

“I can be a Drew if you want, love,” an old man called out.

The barmaid’s nose wrinkled. “I think not, thanks all the same, Cathal.” She glanced at Andy, still standing too close, then back at Aisling and said with a low voice, “I’m sorry, love. Looks like you’ve been stood up.”

Fresh awkwardness swathed her in discomfort. Rejection hovered close again. It was one thing for Andy to have seen her, but for him to have heard that? How embarrassing.

“Never mind,” she muttered, and drained her drink, collecting her bag and coat. Forget being mature, she had to get out of here. Before the fire in her cheeks melted her makeup and made it slide away.

“Ash?” Andy stood too. “Where are you going?”

“Away,” she muttered, unable to look at him. Forget big girl pants. Her chest was so tight she might crack a rib at any moment. Her composure felt much the same.

“Hey, who is Drew?”

“Nobody you need to worry about.”

“Ash? Please don’t go. You don’t need to run away.”

Her steps faltered, then she spun around to face him, pointing at him. “You don’t get to tell me not to run away. Not when you ran away yourself.”

“But I explained—”

“No you didn’t. Not really. You might’ve thought you explained to my mother but you never explained it properly to me.” She blinked back angry tears. Made an effort to control her voice. Already she could tell she was the entertainment for half the pub. “You don’t kiss a girl and then run away, Andy.”

“Oh, you never did that, did you, my man?” The barmaid folded her arms.

And while it was good to know Aisling had one supporter at least in the crowd, she knew much more of this and she’d be blubbering.

“Andy, did you say?” the barmaid said again. “Is that short for Andrew?”

Andy nodded, but Aisling couldn’t understand why the barmaid was going on about this. She had to get away, go home—

“Andrew. As in, Drew.”

Drew?

Aisling blinked. No. “You’re not him.”

“Not who?” Andy’s brow furrowed.

She shook her head. See, there was no point thinking about this when clearly this man was not her mystery date. She glanced at the barmaid. “Thanks.”

“I think you should wait and hear him out,” she called as Aisling hurried to the exit.

“I think I won’t ever come in here again,” she muttered, as a group of loud tourists stumbled in. Nope she wouldn’t return. Not if it meant she ran the risk of seeing him again.

Outside was dark, and she hurried to where she’d parked her car. It had been raining before and there were large puddles on the footpath. She dodged them. Then grew conscious of footsteps behind her. She grabbed her keys, the largest and strongest one pointed out, as she’d learned in a self-defence class in her first year of university.

She turned suddenly, holding up her keys as a weapon.

Andy faltered, hands up. “Whoa. I’m not going to hurt you.”