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1.
Yvonne
It had been alongday at work. Strike that, it had been a longweek.
First, two members of staff at the nightclub I managed called in sick. Then there was a mix up with a vodka order that left me with a migraine. Even worse, I had to deal with an impromptu health inspection, which did a number on my nerves waiting for the results. Thankfully, the club passed, but still, the entire thing wedged a ball of stress right in the pit of my stomach.
All this to say, I was looking forward to letting my hair down tonight with my niece, Evelyn, and her old friends, Dylan and Conor. By pure serendipity they all happened to be living in New York at the same time, with Evelyn coming to stay with me a little over two months ago.
I’d known both boys when I was in my twenties and acting as Ev’s guardian. Now I was thirty-nine and I couldn’t tell you where the years had gone. Seriously, they’d flown by in a blur.
Since I’d already caught up with Dylan, who was now a successful perfume designer and certainly no longer a teenager, I was interested to see how Conor was doing these days.
He’d been such a clever, earnest lad. Completely adorable and sweet. I remembered his crush on me, one I’d been unaware of until he’d gotten drunk on his nineteenth birthday and tried to kiss me. At the time I’d been shocked and taken off guard. I’d always imagined Evelyn’s friends saw me as a mother figure, especially since I was almost a decade their senior. I’d been flattered, of course, but I had to let the boy down gently. I had my ambitions to focus on, and besides, I hadn’t needed everyone in St. Mary’s Villas gossiping about Yvonne Flynn going out with a teenager.
Not that the thought struck my mind. Conor was adorable but far too young for me.
Anyway, I was certain he and I would be able to laugh about his silly teenage crush now that eleven years had passed. He’d be a man now, probably with a wife and children of his own. It warmed my heart to think it, because if he was anything like the sweet, goofy boy I’d known in the Villas then he deserved a happy life.
I, sadly, had never excelled at relationships. I’d had a few boyfriends since moving to New York but none of them lasted longer than six months. It was my own fault, really. I was married to my work and whoever was with me tended to come second. I knew it wasn’t a healthy way to be, and I’d tried to change but…well change was hard. Especially since I thrived on keeping busy. Some people might call me a workaholic.
And those people would be correct.
I had to be one though. I’d started with very little when I moved to New York, renting a small apartment in Queens and working as a barmaid until I eventually started doing some managerial courses at night. I slowly moved my way up the ladder to eventually get hired at my current position. I was proud to be the manager ofFEST, which was one of the most popular clubs in Manhattan. The salary also afforded me to rent a slightly nicer two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. At work I prided myself on running a tight ship, and there was nothing more satisfying than doing my job well and having the respect of my staff and customers.
I’d even been able to hire Ev to work the bar, since she needed a job when she arrived. It felt good to be able to help her find her feet, especially since she’d given up the better part of the last ten years to care for my ailing mother back home. If it weren’t for Ev, I would’ve been stuck in Dublin caring for Mam. I never would’ve gotten to fulfil my dreams of emigrating.
I’d always be grateful to her for that, which was why I was perfectly happy for her to live with me rent free for as long as she needed.
As soon as I got home I ran myself a bath, poured a glass of wine then enjoyed a long soak before climbing out to get ready. With a little encouragement from Ev, I decided to wear my red dress, the tight fitting one that made my arse look great and always gave me an extra pep in my step.
I was just finished curling my shoulder length blonde hair into soft waves when the buzzer to the apartment went. I hurried over and picked up the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Yvonne, it’s Dylan.” His deep voice sounded scratchy through the old phone that had probably been installed in the eighties. “Can we come up?”
“Sure, I’ll buzz you in now,” I replied cheerily before pressing the button to open the door.
Glancing over at Ev, I noticed her chewing her lip and suppressed a smile. She was nervous, which was expected. She and Dylan had been an item when they were teenagers. Tragedy cut their budding relationship short and I was hopeful that perhaps they’d rekindle things now that they were both living in the same city.
I went to grab my handbag while Ev opened the door to greet Dylan and Conor. I listened to their friendly hellos as I emerged from my room, tucking my bag over my shoulder.
“Hi everyone,” I said, smiling widely at Dylan before my attention went to the man beside him. My heartbeat stuttered, my smile momentarily wavering, before I gathered my composure.Wow. Gone was the gangly, glasses wearing nineteen year old boy I’d known. Conor had grown even taller, his shoulders broader, his once shaggy, curly hair cut short. The barest hint of a five o’clock shadow darkened his angular jaw, his rich brown skin smooth and flawless. He wore jeans and a shirt with a casual navy jacket and I had to will my heart to slow down.
Again,wow.
I’d expected he’d changed but I hadn’t expected he’d have changedthismuch.
“Dylan, it’s good to see you again. And C-Conor, it’s been a long time,” I finally managed, casting a quick look to Ev to show my shock at his transformation.
“Too long,” Conor said in a voice much deeper than I remembered. “Hello, Yvonne.”
He gazed at me confidently, observing me in a way that made my skin prickle with heat.
My brain was yelling at me to shake his hand or something but I was too overwhelmed to move. And that was how we found ourselves staring at one another for a beat too long. I sensed him studying me, just as I had been studying him, though I doubted he was as impressed with what he saw.
I took care of myself, worked out, ate well, and slept eight hours every night. I even spent a sinful amount of money on skincare, but that didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t in my twenties anymore. I was certain it showed in the laugh lines around my eyes and the few extra pounds I carried in my stomach and hips. Not that I had to worry about being found attractive by him. It wasn’t like I was out here trying to catch the eye of a thirty year old who for all I knew was married with kids. Though saying that, I couldn’t see a ring.
