10. Aisling
TEN
Aisling
PRESENT
It’s been just over two weeks since I moved to Dublin.
My work life is hectic, or up to ninety if you ask my Irish coworkers, but I’m not entirely sure what that means or if I’m even saying it right. Irish slang isn’t my strong suit.
When Nora warned us we would be hitting the ground running, she wasn’t lying. O’Connell gave us all six-month contracts and seemed determined to make the most of every minute.
So far, I think we’ve made decent progress.
But, damn, I am tired.
Bright side? Since I just moved here and know absolutely no one except my coworkers, I have virtually no social life to stress over when I leave the office at night. It’s just me, a lonely hotel room, and all the Irish sitcoms I can handle.
That is sarcasm, if you can’t tell.
Life feels strangely good and terrible at the same time.
But I’ve been walking that thin line for a long time now, so I’m sort of used to it.
One positive aspect is that aside from our awkward encounter in his office, I haven’t seen Finn much at all. I suppose being the acting CEO of his family’s company has kept him busy because, apart from a few glimpses here and there, we’ve managed to avoid each other for two solid weeks.
I should have known my luck was about to run out.
It always does when it comes to him.
It’s just after lunch, and we’ve been in the conference room for about an hour discussing our ideas on how to diversify O’Connell’s clientele when Finn walks in like he owns the fucking place.
Oh, right. Because he does.
“Finn!” Nora hops up to pull out a chair for him as if he’s royalty. Maybe she’s just being polite; I don’t know. All I feel is annoyance—and maybe a hint of lust—but I just attribute that to old feelings, like muscle memory. Can’t be helped. My gaze lingers on his broad chest as I force my eyes upward. Yes, definitely old feelings. “I hadn’t realized you’d be joining us today.”
He takes the offered chair and thanks her, sitting down right next to me. I take the high road and pretend he’s not there, opting to focus on the notes I’d given up on ten minutes ago.
Okay, so I hadn’t even started them. Whatever.
“I had some free time today, so I thought I’d drop in and see how things were going.”
Even after two years, I still remember the feeling of Finn Larkin’s gaze on me. It’s like a warm tingle at the back of my neck. I lean back in my chair, trying to appear unaffected, but it doesn’t work.
I glance in his direction and catch him peering down at my notebook.
I really should have made more of an effort with my note-taking ruse because when he sees the blank page staring back at him, his lip twitches, and I know I’ve been caught.
He always did enjoy pushing my buttons.
I used to enjoy letting him.
Not anymore.
I slam the notebook shut and fold my arms over my chest. He listens to what the team has been working on while I try to convince myself he doesn’t exist. I may work for him, but I don’t have to work with him.
He has acted as though I don’t exist for the past two years. At the very least, I can give him the same silent treatment for the duration of this meeting.
“I’m excited to hear what you’ve come up with.” He smiles.
Try as I might, I can’t help it. I’m looking at him again. Dammit. It’s just so weird to see him here—like this. He looks so polished in a pair of expensive, fitted slacks and a dark green dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tattooed forearms.
My Finn wore jeans and a company polo that I swear was a size too small on purpose. It stretched across his muscled frame. He lent you his jacket and?—
He was never your Finn , I remind myself.
None of it was real.
I remain quiet throughout the rest of the impromptu presentation as Niall, Shea, and Damien do the heavy lifting. I know I’m letting my team down as I sit there, listening to them discuss all our hard work, but with him in the room, I feel paralyzed. Motionless. Trapped somewhere between the past and the present, and I have no idea how to find my way back.
“Fair play, team. This is impressive,” he says after they’ve finished. He’s reviewing our notes. “I like the concept of creating two new permanent tours aimed at attracting younger clients.”
“We didn’t want to overwhelm the staff,” Shea tells him.
“Learning and executing a whole new tour will be a lot for some of our tour guides,” he agrees, and I suppose he would know, being the expert in the room and all. “We might want to consider hiring additional staff. I also like the idea of rotating themed tours throughout the year.”
That had been our best idea, honestly. Over the last two weeks, we’d brainstormed dozens of them—holiday-themed for Christmastime, a tour for Pride Month, a foodie tour—you name it. However, the one issue we kept facing was consistency. We knew there was an audience out there, but it wasn’t large enough to sustain a tour year-round.
What if we offered it just once or twice a year? It created demand, and if we market it effectively, we could really create excitement around each event.
Finn taps his finger on one specific item on the page. “A tour centered around books? Can you tell me about this? I’ve heard of tours that visit filming locations from popular book-to-screen adaptations, but I assume that’s not what we’re talking about?”
“It was Ash’s idea,” Damien brags, nodding in my direction. “In Scotland, we did a few tours for a popular book-to-TV series, and Ash asked if there were any well-known series filmed in Ireland.”
“There are,” Finn interjects. “But I feel like the market is already cornered on that. No one needs another Game of Thrones or Star Wars tour.”
“Everyone needs another Star Wars tour,” Niall objects, making the room burst into laughter.
“Right,” Damien agrees. “There are quite a few out there, especially in Northern Ireland. That’s why we want to take ours in a different direction and make it more book-focused.”
“Like a book club?” he asks, and I try not to roll my eyes. “How does that relate to a bus tour?”
“You clearly don’t read much, do you?” I mumbled under my breath, my eyes widening the moment the words left my lips.
“Haven’t had the time lately,” he responds, not missing a beat.
Our eyes meet, and I fight the urge to look away. Squaring my shoulders, I respond, “In addition to the huge fantasy and romance market, there are numerous literary fiction novels set in Ireland. Readers enjoy immersing themselves in the worlds of their favorite books. Take them to the places the author wrote about. Add a signing event with the author; we would have fans lining up out the door to get their books signed.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
I give a noncommittal shrug because explaining my love for romance novels is a bit too personal for the office. It was something my mom introduced me to, and when I was heartbroken over him, losing myself in the pages of a book felt healing. “Just trying to think like the customer,” I say instead.
He stares at me for a beat too long before tapping his fingers against the table. “All right, perfect. Anyone up for a few gargles? I think that’s enough work for the day.”
Gargles? What the fuck.
Everyone gives their approval while Nora does me a solid and mouths drinks across the table, adding in a hand motion for added effect. Thanks , I wordlessly say back to her.
And here I am, thinking American slang is weird.
I start packing up my things when Damien taps my left shoulder. “Hey, did you give any thought to my proposal?”
Ah, yes. The proposal…
Suddenly, I feel warm heat on the back of my neck as Finn’s conversation with Nora abruptly halts.
“I haven’t,” I admit, feeling a bit awkward. The room is almost silent now. Is everyone listening to me? “I’ve been really busy.”
That’s a lie. I just haven’t wanted to think about it.
“You can’t live in that hotel forever, Ash. It’s got to be killing your bank account.”
It’s not, but I don’t say that to him. No one likes a bragger. “I just don’t want to be an imposition.”
“I told you, it’s not an imposition. Really, the room is empty and available—and it’s yours.” He grins. “The minute you say yes.”
“Can I think on it a bit longer?”
His dark brown eyes light up, and he smiles warmly. “There’s no rush, but can I try to convince you over a pint?” He can see the indecision on my face. “Come on,” he urges as I toss my purse over my shoulder. He interprets this as an invitation to do the same, draping an arm around me as we head toward the door. “My treat.”
“Make it my treat, and we have a deal.”
“You’re smart, and you buy me beer. God, you’re just about perfect.”
I catch Finn’s lingering stare. “Yep,” I answer. “Just about.”
* * *
Finn
Rian
Pub tonight? It’s Friday. No excuses.
Finn
Can’t. Taking our new hires out for a round.
Rian
Since when do you—oh. It’s an Aisling thing, isn’t it?
Finn
It’s not an Aisling thing. It’s an office thing.
Rian
So, she’s not going to be there?
Finn
She is one of the new hires.
Rian
Jaysus, you’re thick.
Finn
It’s just business.
Rian
You going to the place by the office?
Finn
Yeah, why?
Rian
See you soon.
Finn
Rian, you better be joking.
Rian.
…
Arsehole.
I am not quite sure how I get myself into these situations.
Okay, that’s not entirely true.
I know how, I just don’t know why.
I’ve been doing a stellar job of avoiding Aisling for the past two weeks. It hasn’t been too hard. My office is on a completely different floor from hers, and with my busy schedule, it’s been fairly easy. It was so easy that I should have been thrilled.
Instead, I was annoyed.
Doesn’t make sense to me either.
I found myself purposely leaving my desk and taking that elevator down a floor in hopes I would run into her.
I tried that for two days without any success before I decided I was officially going mental. Finally, today, I decided I either needed to actually see her or march myself back up to that depressing office and forget about her.
Logically, I opt for the more unhinged option and decide to cancel a meeting so I can drop in unannounced on the new team as they collaborate in one of the conference rooms.
Why do I always feel so out of control when I’m around her? Her presence always seemed to throw my otherwise organized life into upheaval, like a handful of confetti in a windstorm.
The pub where everyone is meeting is within walking distance of the O’Connell Building. It’s a popular spot for employees to gather after work, especially at the beginning of a well-earned weekend.
When I step inside, the volume of the place grows noticeably quieter.
I might take offense, but I understand that they aren’t reacting to the boss’s arrival in their sacred spot as much as they are to the fact that I showed up.
I’ve been invited more times than I can count, but I rarely accept.
“Over here!” Damien calls from a booth in the back. He’s squeezed in next to Aisling, and I have to stifle a curse when I see the huge grin plastered across his face.
He’s your employee. You can’t kill him— or even maim him a little.
I’m about to head their way when the door chimes behind me, and I turn and see Rian on my heels.
“Good timing.” He grins.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” And how’d he get here so fast?
“I told you I needed a pint,” he says with a shrug, placing a hand on my shoulder. “And I really want to see how this plays out.”
Fucking hell.
We make our way to the booth, and somehow, even though I left relatively at the same time, I’m the last to arrive. Everyone greets us as we walk up.
“Who’s your man?” Niall asks, gesturing to Rian as we quickly find our seats. There are only two seats left: one at each end, and Rian nearly dive-bombs for the one next to Shea. He gives me a smug smile as I take the opposite side right next to Aisling.
She attempts to scoot down, but that only pushes her deeper into Damien’s side. I rest my hands on the table and shoot my friend a look that promises retribution.
“This is Rian, my best lad and stage five clinger.”
“Hey! You’d seem a little clingy if you just moved back from the States too.” He emphasizes his point with a pouty face.
Everyone quickly introduces themselves to him until only Aisling remains. I can see she’s not sure how to proceed.
“Hi, Rian,” she says, holding his gaze before quickly adding, “I’m Aisling.”
“Right.” He nods, playing along with the ruse because, unlike everyone else, they actually know each other. Or at least, they know of each other. “Nice to meet you.”
Since this pub serves food as well as alcohol, a waitress comes by to take our drink orders. Rian orders baskets of chips for the table, and Niall gets a ham and cheese toastie. Everyone orders a pint of something, but when the waitress reaches Aisling, she hesitates before quickly ordering a cola.
Damien scoffs like he’s personally been offended. “You can’t come to an Irish pub and order a cola!”
“It’s been a long day,” she says with a nervous shrug. “I just feel like a Coke tonight.”
Aisling isn’t a beer drinker. She isn’t much of a drinker. When she was on my tour, she tapped out at two drinks, max, so I wouldn’t ever expect her to overindulge, especially when she is out with her coworkers.
But I have a feeling this doesn’t have anything to do with a work faux pas.
“And you?” the waitress asks, her gaze settling on me.
I was going to grab a pint myself, but seeing how Damien was just laying into her like that had me riled. “I’ll have a cola too, thanks.”
Aisling goes rigid next to me as Damien seems to sense the iciness in my tone. “Hey, Ash, I didn’t mean to—” He stumbles over his words but then somehow corrects himself without missing a beat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offense. Truly.”
He sounds so sincere; it’s almost impossible to be mad at him. It must be the accent. I had a roommate in college whose father was an earl, and he sounded like a real wanker in comparison to this lad.
“It’s not a big deal,” Aisling assures him with a genuine smile that makes me insanely jealous. I didn’t get a smile.
You also ghosted her two years ago, so…
Rian watches the whole interaction with a blend of amusement and intrigue. It’s a dangerous combination for him. You never know if he’s going to sit back and silently observe or meddle just to see if he can fuck shit up.
It’s what makes him excellent at his job. Or so he tells me.
“So you’ll still consider the flat, then?”
Now it’s my turn to tense up.
“What’s this, then?” Rian asks as the waitress starts placing drinks in front of us. Jesus, that was quick.
“Aisling has been living in a hotel for almost three weeks—ever since she arrived from the States. Can you imagine?”
“Sounds kind of nice, no?”
“It’s been fine,” Aisling agrees.
“Where are you staying?”
She rattles off the name, her eyes locked on her cola.
The others voice their surprise at her choice of accommodations. It’s not the Four Seasons, but it’s a nice hotel—expensive. “Right, well, I can see why convincing you to stay at my meager flat has been such a challenge.”
“That place is pretty posh,” Rian agrees, but I know he’s seen his fair share of swanky places during his travels.
Deidre was a seasoned traveler when I met her, and though she never flaunted it like some of the tourists I met, she’d been a wealthy woman. She would have made sure her daughter was well taken care of. It wasn’t a surprise to me that Aisling could afford an extended stay at a place like that.
“That’s got to be costing you a—” Rian starts to say before Aisling flinches.
“A fortune.” She nods, completing his sentence. “It’s not ideal, and it wasn’t meant to be a long-term strategy.”
“Which is why you should move into?—”
“I have a place,” I blurt out unexpectedly. The table falls silent, and I realize it must sound like I’ve just given her a similar offer to Damien’s. “There’s a flat for rent. In my building,” I quickly clarify.
What I don’t mention is that when I say my building, I mean it’s my building. I own it. And it’s not just in the building; it’s on my floor, across the hall.
Fuck, I’m an eejit.
Rian, of course, knows all of this because I tried to rent it to him when he came home, but he had already found a place through work.
His grin widens like a Cheshire cat. “That’s a great flat. Doorman, safe, private .” He emphasizes the last word, darting an eye over at Damien before turning his attention back on Aisling.
“I doubt they’ll rent to me. I’ve looked at a few flats, but no one will do a short-term lease,” she sighs, reminding me that she is, once again, only here temporarily.
I try to remind myself that it shouldn’t matter either way. She’s off-limits regardless.
“I think you’ll find this landlord easier to work with than others. Maybe you and Finn can talk it out later, yeah?”
“Sure.” She nods, looking utterly unconvinced. “Yeah.”
I kick him under the table. He grins.
The conversation shifts to a range of topics, including a new restaurant Shea visited and some nightclubs Damien wants to check out to the more mundane subjects like work. About an hour later, after everyone has eaten and enjoyed a few pints, Aisling excuses herself.
“You’re headed home?” Shea pouts. She’s managed to put away at least three pints herself. Considering she can’t weigh more than eight stones soaking wet, I have no idea where she put it all. “But my girlfriend is coming soon. She’s so pretty. I want to marry her. Oh! I should propose!”
That girl is wrecked.
Niall pats her hand, looking amused. “Let’s save the life-altering decision for when we’re sober, yeah?”
“I will, yeah.” She nods, resting her head on his shoulder. Niall groans, causing me to chuckle. He better watch her like a hawk. Everyone knows “I will, yeah” is just the Irish way of saying, “Hell no, but it’s happening.”
“I have no doubt.”
“I think I’m going to head off as well,” Rian announces and then turns to me. “Share a cab with me?”
I didn’t realize I was leaving, but the pointed look he gives me suggests otherwise.
“Sure.” I nod, falling into step with him and Aisling. When we get outside and his lip twitches, I know I’ve been played.
“Oh, you know what?” He snaps his fingers like a lightbulb has just gone off in that brilliant brain of his. “I’m headed in the opposite direction from you.” He feigns disappointment, his broad shoulders lifting in a shrug. His shirt displays the word “Snack” in bold script across his chest. Fucker makes mad money and shows up to the office every day in graphic tees and ripped jeans. Ridiculous. “I keep forgetting we don’t live close by anymore.”
We haven’t lived close to each other since we were roommates at Trinity.
A cab pulls up, and he steps to the curb. “But I believe Aisling’s hotel is on your way home if you two want to share?” He hops in the back of the car, rolls down the window, and gives Aisling a wave. “Lovely to meet you after all this time, Ash. Night!”
I stand there, hands in my pockets, as the car pulls away from the curb, until I finally turn.
“He and my mother would have gotten along famously,” she says, a mixture of sadness and amusement in her voice. “His meddling skills are advanced.”
I nod, choosing not to address the remark about her mam. “He’s a certified genius. I truly believe he could take over the world with just a few taps on his phone.”
She laughs, and I instantly feel weak in the knees. It’s a sound I thought I’d never hear again—a sound I thought I could live without. Now that I’ve heard it again, I feel like a man who’s wandered the desert for years and just received his first sip of water.
I need more.
“Why do I sort of believe you?”
“Because I have one of those faces?” She doesn’t quite laugh this time, but I manage to get a smile, and it’s enough for now. “We don’t have to share a cab,” I say, growing serious. “And you don’t have to feel obligated to check out that flat in my building.”
“No, Finn—” Her eyes meet mine, and the sound of my name on her lips feels like a time machine. I’m overwhelmed with a flood of memories all at once, and I don’t know whether to walk away or take a step closer. “There’s no point in us taking separate cabs if we’re headed in the same direction.”
“And the flat? I’ll understand if you would rather room with Damien.” Just saying his name has me gritting my teeth.
“Really? Because your eyes look murderous right now.”
I squeeze them shut and try to take a breath. “It’s not my place to say?—”
“He has a girlfriend.”
“What?” My mouth drops open. Of all the things I expected her to say, that was not it.
“It’s a two-bedroom apartment that he shares with his girlfriend. That’s why he moved to Dublin in the first place—to be closer to her. Anyway, they have an extra room, and when he found out I was having trouble finding a place, he offered it to me.”
“He seemed quite adamant for a guy who’s already attached.”
A cab pulls up to the curb, and we both shuffle in, leaving the middle seat empty between us.
“He was just being nice.” She raises an eyebrow at me after we rattle off destinations to the driver. “Just like I assume you’re being nice by offering me an apartment in your building.”
Silence fills the car. “How did you know?”
“That you owned the building? Well, I didn’t know for certain until just now. Your friend may be a genius, but he’s about as subtle as a punch to the gut.”
I chuckle and nod. “That’s an accurate description. But no, I’m not just trying to be nice. You can’t stay in that hotel forever, Aisling. It may meet all your needs, but it’s still just a hotel. I remember how lonely that can feel.”
“It’s just a few months.” She shrugs it off, but I can see the worry in her eyes. “Then I go back—to the States.”
“Your contract could renew,” I remind her.
“And you’re the one to decide that?”
“No,” I respond. “Nora will make the recommendations to her supervisor, and she will give her final approval. But, with the volume of work you four have generated, it wouldn’t surprise me if she had to extend.”
“I just don’t want to get attached.” I can almost hear the word again dangling at the end of her sentence.
“You can’t start a new life with only one foot in the door.”
She muddles over my words for a second before replying. “I don’t even have furniture. What would I do with an entire flat?”
“The flat comes fully furnished.” It doesn’t. I am totally grasping at straws here. “And besides, with the money you’ll be saving from the hotel, I think you’ll be able to afford a thing or two for a flat.” I pause before nudging her, a familiar gesture that makes my heart hurt the second I do it. “Stop making excuses.”
“Can I come see it before I decide?”
I grin, far too pleased with myself. “How does Sunday sound?”