Luck of the Irish: Complete Edition (4 page)

BOOK: Luck of the Irish: Complete Edition
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Watching television turned out to be impossible for Keira because the news programs focused mainly on Bono’s accident and the canceled concerts. Besides, the lively sounds coming in through the windows from the Temple Bar pubs made it hard to concentrate on the small screen. She gave up pretending to pay attention to it, changed into a pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt, and went out, bound to enjoy her last night in Dublin.

She left the hotel through the backdoor and found herself smack-dab in the middle of the bustling Temple Bar scene. There were hundreds of people all around and countless pubs to choose from, so she decided to walk around and find the one more appealing to her.

She walked further down the road until a crowd gathered around a bright red building on a corner called her attention. There was a large window through which she could see a band performing on a small stage. She stood across the street, watching the people singing along with the band, until she noticed someone inside the pub was waving at her. She recognized the red-headed Brazilian she had met at the ticket line. Her two friends were with her and they were inviting Keira to join them.

Oh, what the heck? I’ll go in and get drunk. Maybe then I’ll forget about stupid concerts and even dumber –but drop-dead-gorgeous - bartenders
, she decided, as she tried to find a way through the crowd.

Carla, her new Brazilian friend, met her at the door, “Hey, Keira, right? Are you by yourself? No U2 fan should be alone tonight. It’s not safe,” she slurred a little but Keira got her point.

“Damn right! I want to get as drunk as I possibly can without passing out on the street.” Keira agreed as she followed Carla to the table.

“Hey, you’ve made it!” Doni, who was obviously very drunk, didn’t seem to know who his friend Carla was anymore.

“I’ve been here the whole night, sweetie. Come on! You can’t be that drunk,” she laughed and looked at her other friend. “Can he?”

“Yes, he can and he is,” Fábio said. He turned to Keira and smiled. “Sorry.”

“No worries. You seem sober,” she stated the obvious with a playful smile.

“I’m driving,” he shrugged. “Can I get you anything? I’m going to the bar.”

“Another pint!” Carla asked showing her empty glass of Guinness.

“Me, too,” Doni joined her.

“Yes and no,” Fábio pointed at each friend as he answered. “Would you like one, too, Keira?”

She hesitated for a fleeting second then nodded in agreement as he pulled a chair for her.

“Sit down. I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared in the middle of the crowd surrounding the bar counter.

“This place is awesome, isn’t it?” Carla asked her.

“Yes, it is. How long have you guys been here tonight?”

“Oh, we’ve just got here,” Doni offered.

She looked at him in surprise but turned around when she heard Carla’s laugh.

“Don’t mind him. He’s lost track of time. We’ve been here a while. Enough for him to get that wasted, anyway.”

They all laughed and told Fábio the joke when he joined them with a fresh round of pints for Carla and Keira. He brought water for Doni.

“Wow, that was fast. I thought it would take you forever, with all those thirsty people hanging around the bar,” Keira observed.

“A little Brazilian charm does wonders,” he winked at her and nodded towards the counter.

She got his meaning when she saw a beautiful bar maid stretching her neck to look at their table over the customers’ heads.

“I see,” she laughed and raised her glass to her new friends. “Sláinte mhaith!”

“Sláinte!” they answered before drinking their smooth and strong black beer.

Keira was surprised at how at ease she felt around them. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t be comfortable in that kind of situation but they were very friendly. The pints of beer that kept coming to the table certainly helped her relax. After a couple of hours, she was laughing at their jokes and funny stories until her jaw hurt. They had many stories to tell. They had traveled around the world, met the strangest people, and seen the most amazing places. She had a great time with them, which definitely took her mind off the depressing thoughts that had plagued her earlier. But, eventually, it was time to go.

“Sorry, Keira, but we’ve got to go. We need to get back to our hotel, near Croke Park, of all places,” Carla rolled her eyes and made a funny face. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“That’s fine, guys. I’ve got to go, too,” she replied and they left the pub.

Fábio was the only one who could walk straight. They made a hilarious picture and laughed hard at that.

“Are you sure you can get these two to their hotel rooms?” Keira asked him.

“Don’t worry. I’ve done that before,” he guaranteed.

“As have I, mister!” Carla slurred, in feigned annoyance, pointing a shaky finger at him, which he grabbed and kissed.

“Yeah, right! Whatever,” he laughed.

“Bye, friend,” Doni waved in her general direction and she waved back.

“Goodbye, Keira. Remember to have fun,” Carla said blowing a kiss.

“Goodbye, Carla,” Keira laughed and blew her another.

Fábio shook his head at his two drunken friends and stretched his hand out to greet her, “Goodbye, Keira. Are you sure you can walk back to the hotel? We can drop you off there.”

“Thank you, I am fine. Walking will help clear my head. You drive safely now,” she waved at them and turned towards the Clarence, which wasn’t far, but her legs didn’t obey her and her feet seemed to drag.

After what felt like an eternity, the yellow backdoor of the hotel appeared in front of her and she climbed the few steps to the glass doors. She did so a bit too fast and felt dizzy. When she entered the hotel, Keira leaned against the wall, while the room spun around her, and she promised herself never to get drunk like that again.

CHAPTER 2

 

 

 

Declan got out of the bar and stopped dead when he saw Keira, looking pale and about to faint, leaning against the wall. In two long strides, he was beside her, gathering her in his arms to avoid her collapsing to the floor, but he startled her.

“What are you doing?” she shouted, looking angrily at him.

He smelled alcohol in her breath and knew she was as drunk as she could be. He thought she might fall if he let go of her, but her indignant expression left him no other choice.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were going to faint,” he apologized and released her.

Her body swayed, but she looked at him over her glasses and stuck her nose in the air.

“I am perfectly fine, sir. Thank you very much,” she stated, trying not to look too drunk, despite the fact that she needed to put a hand on the wall to steady herself, when she had lost his support. That gesture dampened her remark a bit but she pretended it didn’t happen and just stared back at him with a stern expression.

He wanted to laugh at her expression, kiss her pouting lips and scoop her up in his arms, and never let her go. All at once. But he did none of those things. He just nodded at her.

“Are you sure? You look a tad tipsy,” he offered her the understatement of the year, because he knew that, in her drunken stare, she wouldn’t get his sarcasm.

“I told you I’m fine. In fact, I’ll just go inside and have a drink,” she let go of the wall and stepped towards the bar.

“Maybe that’s not a good idea. The pub is full. You’d have to stand up at the counter,” he told her as he discreetly held her arm when she stumbled.

“I don’t mind it. That’s how most people drink, isn’t it?” she replied and managed to enter the bar.

In fact, it wasn’t that crowded and there were two or three empty stools. She chose one and frowned at him as she plopped herself down on it.

“I’d say somebody doesn’t want to work tonight, huh?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

Declan rolled his eyes and went back behind the counter. His two colleagues looked at him but he just shrugged and muttered under his breath. “It’s a long story.”

They smiled and gladly put him in charge of the drunken American.

“We’ll take care of everything. You take care of her. I think you’ll have your hands full, anyway,” the tall red-haired woman said, laughing.

“You got that right, Màire. He already seems to be in trouble. She doesn’t look too happy with him, does she?” the dark-haired older man replied.

“Oh, fuck off, Harry. You’re jealous, that’s all,” Declan laughed and pushed the man playfully.

Keira watched their exchange but got so caught up in their Irish accent that she lost half of their meaning. She laughed because everything seemed amusing.

“A pint of Guinness,” she ordered when Declan turned to her.

“Maybe you should drink some water, first.”

“You should mind your own business and pour the ale, sir” she answered, smacking her hand on the counter for emphasis.

“It’s actually a stout,” he replied as he filled a glass with the black beer.

“What’s the difference?” she asked.

“If you have to ask, you shouldn’t be drinking it,” he was losing his good mood and temper fast. Declan took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to be rude. You are right. It’s none of my business what you do with yourself. I apologize.”

Keira felt suddenly sad at the hurt in his voice. Maybe she was too drunk. Maybe she was going mad but she didn’t want Declan to be angry at her.

“Please, Declan, don’t apologize. I’m the spoiled brat here. I should have noticed you were just looking out for me. I’m sorry,” she reached over the counter and grabbed his hand. But the sudden charge of electricity that ran from his hand through her arm and down her body was so intense she practically jumped back and let go of it.

He looked at her in surprise. He too had felt it and was astonished by their reactions to such a simple touch. He told himself not to think too hard about it. He shouldn’t think of what might happen if he touched her more intimately. He needed to remember what had happened earlier that day.

But it was too late. He had already imagined it as he leaned over the counter and trapped her cool hand between his warm ones. He looked her in the eyes and saw conflicting emotions in their blue depths – desire, surprise, curiosity, and insecurity. The last one was the strongest and the one he couldn’t understand - why a beautiful, intelligent young woman, such as Keira was, would harbor so much self-doubt.

Keira stared back into his eyes and went totally speechless. His already dark green gaze seemed darker and more dangerous. She felt like walking into an enchanted forest. His eyes were alluring and frightening at the same time. She wanted to get lost in them but was terrified of the possibility. His stare seemed to connect to something buried deep inside her, some basic instinct, or primal feeling, she didn’t know she had. She felt her body tingle in the strangest places as that feeling raised its head and threatened to smother any rational thoughts the beer had left intact. There weren’t many.

She was alone in a foreign country, holding a stranger’s hand, looking into his eyes and dreaming of all the dirty things she’d like to do to him, with him, or let him do to her. She must be out of her mind. Those thoughts made the butterflies somersault in her stomach and she felt sick.

Declan noticed her discomfort and let go of her hand.

“Tell me why you wanted to get drunk tonight, Keira. I’m a bartender, remember. It’s my job to listen to the customers,” he winked at her.

“Is that right?” she laughed and thanked him for breaking that dangerous spell she had been under since he had taken her hand in his. “Well, let me see. Where should I start telling you about my tribulations?”

Later, Keira would blame the beer for having opened up her heart so completely to Declan that night. The truth was, though, she felt comfortable talking to him like she had never felt with another man. She told him about her grandfather and her childhood dream of visiting Ireland. She talked about her hardworking days and how she had saved money for the trip. She found it harder to convey her expectations about the concert and the disappointment at its cancelation. That kind of feeling could only be understood by another fan. Preferably, one who had gone through something similar. Normal people didn’t get it.

“But your trip is only beginning, isn’t it? You still have a couple of weeks ahead of you to enjoy yourself,” Declan said. He was definitely a normal person.

“You don’t understand it,” she was feeling very sorry for herself, like any other drunkard. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve always wanted to watch a U2 concert in Dublin. Now, I can’t do that. I won’t watch a U2 concert in their hometown,” she whined and sniffed.

“Please, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do around crying women,” Declan begged her.

It was useless. Once the flood gates had opened there was no turning back. She crossed her arms on the counter, rested her forehead on them, and cried like a little girl. He looked at Màire and Harry in panic. They shrugged back at him.

“What do I do?’ he mouthed.

A few customers were looking at them as her sobs grew louder.

“Take her upstairs,” Màire mouthed and gestured in reply.

He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Come, come, Keira. I know you like the guys, but missing one little concert doesn’t seem that bad,” he whispered, softly in her ear.

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, though, because she cried louder.

“Ooh! That’s my favorite song,” she wailed and he looked at the ceiling as if in prayer. The woman was too drunk to make any sense. Then, she started singing out of key and he understood what she meant. “See you break away! La-la-la - to fade away! La-la-la - I’m not sleeping!”

“All right, missy, time to go up to your room. This isn’t a karaoke bar,” he said as he walked around the counter, snaked an arm around her narrow waist and grabbed her arm, draping it over his own shoulders. “Up you go. That’s a good girl.”

He looked at his colleagues and they shooed him away.

“Go, go! We’ve got it covered,” Harry said aloud, trying, without success, not to burst out laughing.

Màire shook her head at him and teased, “It’s amazing what that Declan guy has to do to get a date, huh, Harry?”

He gave her the finger as he stumbled out the door and heard their roaring laughter behind him. Although Keira was a small thing, it was very difficult to stir a drunken person. She could barely put one foot in front of the other, so their legs got intertwined. Fearing they would stumble to the ground, Declan decided to scoop her up, carrying her to the room.

“Yay! That’s nice,” she said as she let her head fall on his shoulder and laced her hands behind his neck closing her eyes.

She snuggled closer to his body and he felt his heart beat like crazy inside his chest. He could hardly breathe and closed his eyes for a second to wait for the surge of blood in his veins to flow back upwards. It had gone straight down to his groin and he moaned at his body’s reaction to her proximity. He told himself he was a grown man, who was perfectly capable of taking a helpless woman to her room, putting her on the bed, and going back to work. It was as simple as that.

He pretended not to know his shift was about to finish as he carried her inside the elevator. He had a master keycard for when he needed to deliver drinks to the guests so he used it to open her door since he was in no condition to go through her pockets to find her card. She wasn’t carrying a purse.

What kind of woman doesn’t carry a purse?

Obviously, one who didn’t fit the stereotype. He felt in his bones that the situation was bound to end in disaster. After all, that was his luck, anyway.

He stooped over the bed to put her down, but, when he tried to straighten up again, Keira laced her hands behind his neck, holding him in place. She was surprisingly strong for a woman, especially a drunken one.

“Don’t go, please. I don’t want to be alone, Declan,” she begged.

At least she knew who he was. He took her hands in his and sat beside her.

“I’ll stay until you fall sleep,” he told her, hoping it would be soon.

Keira couldn’t focus her eyes properly and Declan’s face seemed to swim above hers. She put her hands on his cheeks to stop his head from moving.

“You are so dreamy. Are you for real?”

He laughed at her because he was sure she wasn’t aware she had said it aloud. Her next words confirmed that.

“Why are you laughing, silly? You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

He hid his smile behind a stern expression.

“It’s late, Keira. Close your eyes and try to sleep.”

She did so but after a short while, she sat on the bed and looked around, startled.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” talked to her as if she were six years old. “Go back to sleep.”

She shook her head and looked ashen, “My head is spinning,” she said before turning a deeper shade of green.

Declan rushed to the bathroom to get the wastebasket, but wasn’t fast enough. She threw up over the bed before he returned. There wasn’t much he could do rather than wait for the heaving to stop. He held her hair and soothed her with gentle words but she was mortified. She made incoherent apologies.

“Shush, Keira, don’t speak. Everything will be all right,” he told her and for some strange reason, she believed him.

When it was over, he helped her stand up. Her legs were a little shaky, and she felt filthy, although she hadn’t soiled her clothes. The bed was certainly disgusting.

“I need a shower.”

She felt horrible but at least her head was less foggy. Noticing her legs were firmer, he knew she could handle the shower on her own. That was a relief because he wouldn’t be able to help her there.

“Go ahead. I’ll call housekeeping and tell them to clean up this mess. Don’t worry.”

 

 

She took her time under the shower head trying to relax and recover. The hot water helped her accomplish that. She didn’t expect Declan to stick around and wait for her. After all, she had already put him in enough awkward situations for one night with her drunken stupidity and horrible behavior.

She was surprised to find him sitting on the blue armchair by the window, when she left the bathroom. Her bed was clean again. She was so embarrassed she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Thank you, Declan, for everything. I’m so–,” she started speaking but stopped when he raised a hand to interrupt her.

“No apologies necessary, Keira. I’d never leave you alone in this kind of situation. It’s something we’d better leave behind us, don’t you think?”

“You’re absolutely right.”

“I guess you’d rather stay alone now you’re feeling better, right?” he asked.

She hesitated briefly before nodding. For a second, he had hoped she would ask him to stay and felt sad when she agreed he should go.

“Well, this is goodbye,” he stood up to leave.

BOOK: Luck of the Irish: Complete Edition
4.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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