Chapter 4
The pub was silent. The kind of silence that pressed in around the edges, thick and alive, broken only by the low hum of the old refrigerator in the kitchen and the occasional creak of wood settling in the ceiling beams.
Keefe sat alone in his office, the desk lamp casting a soft golden pool of light across the paperwork he wasn’t looking at.
He hated paperwork. It was the worst part of the job but unfortunately, necessary.
He was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed loosely, staring at the opposite wall as if it might suddenly say something helpful.
His thoughts had long since drifted to nowhere useful. Mostly, he was just tired. Bone-deep tired. And not just from the long hours. He loved his work. He loved the pub and everything that came with it—except the damn paperwork.
No, this fatigue ran deeper.
The door creaked open slightly, and Ginny peeked her head in.
“Is it quiet or loud?” she asked, softly.
Keefe blinked, pulled from whatever fog he’d been drifting through. “Sorry, what was that?”
She stepped further into the room, her voice calm, curious. “The silence. Is it quiet or loud?”
He let out a soft breath, his lips curving into a weary but appreciative smile. “Loud. Very loud.”
Ginny nodded knowingly. “I figured. You had that look about you.” He watched her lean against the doorway, her arms crossed loosely over her apron.
She wasn’t looking at him, just at the floor, thoughtful.
“I’ve had a lot of time on my own. That’s when it gets the loudest for me.
My momma always says that life gets easier and harder all the time,” she added.
“I don’t know why, but that’s supposed to be comforting, I guess. ”
Keefe huffed a laugh. “A wise woman.”
Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Not really. She heard that from her momma and just says it now to sound wise and all. The truth is, she doesn’t know shit.”
That got him. He smothered a grin and looked down, shaking his head. It was the first time he’d ever heard Ginny truly insult someone. She was pretty good at it too.
She glanced up and caught him smiling.
“Have you made any friends?” he asked.
She perked up slightly, then slouched again.
“No, not really. I mean Darcie is about the sweetest person I’ve ever met in my whole life, but you know, Darcie’s a new mom and all…
The customers are friendly enough, and I’m getting to know them, but no one I’d call up just to talk or have lunch with or something like that.
Have you heard from Sophie and Liam? Are they having the best time ever? ”
Keefe reached into the drawer and retrieved his phone. “See for yourself. Sophie’s been sending photos.”
He handed the phone to Ginny, who stepped closer to the desk and scrolled slowly through the pictures. One of Sophie beaming with sunglasses on her head, Liam looking sunburned and smug beside her. A view of a white-walled town cascading down a cliff. A sapphire blue sea stretching into forever.
“They look so right together, don’t they?” she murmured.
“Yeah,” Keefe said, watching not the phone, but her face. “They always have.”
She sighed, smiling wistfully. “That’s so romantic. Marrying your best friend. Someone you’ve known your whole life.”
He nodded, quietly, still watching her.
There was a flicker in her eyes then, a glint of something a little sad, a little unresolved. Before he could comment, she glanced up.
“You’ve been introduced to Sondra, right?”
“Yeah. A couple of times. She’s Darcie’s best friend, isn’t she?
They’re both so lovely. Darcie is so warm and so beautiful.
I mean, she’s got the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.
And Sondra? I thought she was a model the first time I saw her.
The way she moves… she just sort of floats through a room.
So graceful and…” She caught herself rambling and looked sheepish.
“Sorry. You know what they look like. I don’t have to tell you. ”
Keefe smirked. “Sondra’s got presence, that’s for sure. But she’s also normal—sort of—once you get to know her. You should give her a call sometime. I bet you’d get on.”
“You think I should?”
“I think you’d enjoy it. And I don’t want you stuck here feeling like you’re on your own.”
She bit her lip. “It’s not that. Not really. It’s just funny how things follow you, you know? I look back now and wonder how I missed the signs that my ex was leaving me. They were all there—every single one. But I couldn’t see them until it was too late.”
There was a beat of quiet.
Ginny looked up. Keefe was staring at her with a soft gaze. “What?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Has anyone ever told you you have cow eyes?”
“Yes. And I hate it,” Ginny said flatly.
“It’s a compliment.”
“You just called me a cow.”
“No,” Keefe chuckled. “I said you have cow eyes. Big, soft, warm. Have you ever looked a cow in the eye?”
“Well, I don’t usually go around staring at livestock, no.”
“You should. They’re adorable.”
“They are?”
He nodded earnestly. “Next time you walk past a cow, really look. I promise you’ll melt.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. But if I fall in love with a cow, I’m blaming you. And if I stop eating steak, I’ll be holding you personally responsible.” Ginny laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’m beat. Dining room’s tidy. The cleaner’s coming early.”
Keefe nodded. “Thanks. Goodnight, Ginny.”
She turned to go, then paused. “Keefe?”
“Yeah?”
She looked like she might say something—working up the nerve—then changed her mind. “That game pie you made today was delicious. You should make it again soon.” A softer smile. “You won’t be alone for long if you do.”
He looked at her properly then, the overhead light catching the shine in her eyes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this past week.”
“You’d have managed,” she teased. “Maybe.”
“Makes me think we might survive the next three weeks unsupervised.”
They shared a quiet smile, the silence between them softer now.
“Well… goodnight. See you tomorrow.”
She turned again, but before she could close the door?—
“Ginny?”
She peeked back in.
“Before I forget, there’s going to be some construction out back soon—we’re building a flat so we can rent out your room upstairs?—”
“You’re firing me?” Her eyes went wide. “Please don’t! I can do better, I swear!”
“No, Gin?—”
“I’m sorry about the glass I broke. I’ll pay for it!” The words came so fast Keefe couldn’t get a syllable in.
“Ginny!” He held up both hands. This time, she stayed quiet. “We’re not firing you. I was going to ask if you’d like to move into the new flat. Live there.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re building me an Irish cottage? Oh my God! I’m getting my very own Irish cottage in Ireland!”
“Not exactly a cottage, more like?—”
“I’m so excited!” She bent down and nearly lifted him out of his chair in a hug. “I’ll have you over for dinner in my Irish cottage kitchen!”
“You really have fallen for this place,” he said with a chuckle.
“Oh, I truly have. When I took a buggy ride through the Gap of Dunloe, we stopped at this place—white walls, red windows, flowers everywhere.” She snapped her fingers, trying to recall. “Kate Kearney’s Cottage. Have you been?”
Keefe grinned. “Yeah. Used to go cliff-jumping into a pond near there. Nearly gave my parents a heart attack.”
She stared at him like he was completely insane—who leaps off a cliff into a pond?—then shrugged it off. “Well, now that’s all I want. And now I’m getting one!” She squealed. “I gotta call my daddy!” She kissed his cheek with a loud smack and hurried off.
Keefe shook his head. She’d be disappointed when she learned it wasn’t her dream cottage. In fact, the Irish would call it a “granny flat”—but he wasn’t about to ruin her fun.
“Hey, Ginny?” he called after her.
She leaned back in, nearly bumping the doorway with her forehead.
“I was thinking, would you—” His phone buzzed. “Sorry, it’s Aunt Nan. I have to take this.”
“All right. Goodnight—again.”
He answered, then covered the receiver. “Hey, Ginny?”
She stopped one last time, hand on the doorframe.
“How about an early lunch tomorrow? I’ll make steak sandwiches.”
Her smile lit up her whole face. “You’re on.”
And then she was gone, her footsteps light on the old wooden floor as she danced upstairs.
Keefe leaned back in his chair, the silence settling in again—but it didn’t feel quite so heavy now.