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Annoyed at myself, I groaned, searching my racks of clothes for the thousandth time. Eventually, I homed in on a new pantsuit I hadn’t worn yet, a black, matte fabric with dark, forest green pinstripes made by the ever-elegant Valentino, truly a masterpiece custom designed for me.
I pulled it off the hanger and shrugged it on, taken by the romantic, femininely masculine design. The soft, delicate fabric hugged my curves like a glove, giving me an effortless formality that spoke to my position in Boston society.
It would do nicely. With an added boost of confidence, I finished getting ready, slipped on a pair of forest green pumps lined with black lace, and added my trademark red lip.
With a deep breath, I headed out the door. My driver was already waiting for me, and even though I was on edge, it took no time at all before I was walking through the doors of Murphy’s. Since it was a Sunday night, there wasn’t much of a crowd. I noticed a few regulars that waved to me as I strode in, and I smiled in their direction, acknowledging them with a firm nod. Shane hadn’t arrived yet, and I took my usual seat at the bar.
“Three nights in a row. Some people might think we’re dating or something,” Angus teased, winking suggestively. I chuckled and shook my head, stifling my amusement as much as I could, but he saw right through me anyway and beamed in my direction.
“Is there any word on who this man is?” I asked him.
“A whole lot of conjecture, from what I’ve rummaged up so far. He’s some rich dude who always pays in cash. He’s decent because he always leaves ridiculously high tips, but I’ve got no more intel than that.”
I sighed for a moment, thinking before I spoke again. “Grab a still off the camera footage and send it to me. I’ll have my tech look into it. She can run him through federal facial recognition software so we can figure out who the fuck he really is,” I commanded.
“You got it, boss. If you find anything else out tonight, you let me know,” Angus replied, smirking. His eyes were glinting with mischief.
“You think I’m going to go home with him, don’t you?”
“You’ve got a gun. If he tried to hurt you, I know you’re entirely capable of popping him right between the eyes. You can look after yourself,” he assured me with a shrug.
“That is true,” I mused.
“In all the years I’ve known you, Ada, you’ve never hesitated to take what you want. You’re a powerhouse, and you know it. If your gut is telling you to go for it, I think you should,” he added, his soft brown eyes full of warm sincerity.
You know what? He was right.
“Thanks, Angus. I needed to hear that,” I finally replied, my voice quiet and contemplative.
The ringing of the bell tolled behind me, and I didn’t even need to look over my shoulder to know that Shane had walked through that door. The whole atmosphere of the bar changed in an instant, centering entirely on me and him. Angus lifted a brow and slid a glass of water in front of me. I grabbed it and slowly sipped it as the bar stool creaked beside me.
“Good evening, Ada,” Shane said, his voice as smooth as melted honey butter. I breathed in deep, basking in the scent of his cologne for a second before I turned my head and gazed back into those enigmatic eyes of his.
“Good evening, Shane,” I countered, feeling like I was gearing myself up for the most epic game of strategy I’d ever played.
Truth be told, it was devilishly exciting. With a deep breath, I braced myself, knowing I was in for the wildest rollercoaster I’d ever ridden in my life.
“Would you let me buy you a drink?” He cocked his head, his gaze searching mine in just the same way I imagined mine was his.
“I’d like that.”
With a single finger, he beckoned Angus over. Without missing a beat, he ordered me my favorite whiskey, along with a glass for himself. Angus looked between Shane and me before he pushed the drinks in front of us, trying to assess the interaction between us a bit further before he eventually moved on to serve another customer.
“You’re right. The Midleton Very Rare is extremely tasty,” he said thoughtfully.
“I know. I’m right about a lot of things,” I replied, not reigning in my confidence even a little bit. The corner of his lip perked up in an amused smirk.
“I bet you are,” he chuckled. The glint in his eyes darkened.
I didn’t know why, but my cheeks radiated with heat at his response. I looked down at my whiskey glass for a moment, trying to cover it up as best I could. When I finally dared a glance up, I knew by the look on his face that he’d seen it.
“So how long are you in Boston for now? Planning on going back to visit your family in Ireland soon?”
“No. My work there is finished, and I’ve come back to this city for good. I consider both places home, but this will be where I live from now on.”
A dark, mysterious expression came over him and I drew back a little, wanting to ask what he meant and also not really knowing how to voice it.
“Are you looking around for places to stay now? You said you haven’t been here long, so I assume you’re staying in a hotel downtown?”
