Chapter Two
Keighley had never flown overseas before and had never even set foot in the first-class cabin of a plane.
She’d now done both. Sterling could just as well have sent her economy.
Flying over the Atlantic, lying down in a seat that converted into a bed, she’d thought again and again what a personal touch it was, and how thoughtful.
He was spoiling her. She had worked with other wealthy clients, and none were as thoughtful as he was.
A uniformed chauffeur had met her at Dublin Airport, driving her in a luxury Mercedes-Benz toward the heart of the city. He hadn’t talked much, but his few words rang with that gorgeous Irish accent she’d fallen in love with from watching movies. Was this actually real?
Her phone didn’t automatically switch over to the international coverage she had enabled before leaving New York.
She fiddled with it a little while the car flew down a freeway.
If Sterling called or the hotel texted information, she needed to be able to get the message.
By the time she looked up and out the windows again, they were in the heart of Dublin.
She held back a gasp of excitement. The driver probably drove all kinds of sophisticated people around.
If she came off as a total noob, that would likely get back to Sterling.
She didn’t want to repay his generosity by embarrassing him.
But inside she was kind of freaking out.
Her head snapped back and forth, looking out the windows on both sides of her.
Some things about the city looked really modern.
Others looked straight out of a BBC historical drama.
Was the whole city that way, or just the part she was seeing?
A million questions swam through her mind as they inched their way through the much busier part of the city. How many people lived in Dublin? What was the name of the river they crossed over? Were all the spires she could see dotting the skyline from churches? How many were there?
They passed buildings with marble columns out front, iron gates that must have been centuries old, narrow back lanes, shops that were probably older than America itself.
There were so many people walking around; that part reminded her of New York.
But the rest was something totally different.
It was new and exciting and spoke to her heart in a way she wasn’t sure she could have explained.
The car pulled up in front of a very modern building.
It was at least five stories tall and looked like a glass and concrete checkerboard.
The ground level was entirely glass. The walks crisscrossed over patches of grass and paving stones.
It wasn’t at all what she thought of when she thought of Ireland.
She liked it, even though it was unexpected.
Giant silver letters above the brass-framed glass doors declared this The Marker Hotel. Her destination.
She didn’t know how Sterling had managed it, but she didn’t have to wait at the reception desk or explain who she was.
The driver carried her luggage in and handed it to a bellhop.
The man at the desk, sporting a suit and tie and the look of someone in charge, called her “Miss Ainsworth” and welcomed her before she’d even had a chance to introduce herself.
She was personally accompanied to the “lift” and on to her room, all while hearing a list of impressive amenities, all spoken in a beautiful Irish accent.
Keighley had never been in such a fancy hotel suite. Her apartment looked like a dump compared to this place. And the suite was bigger. She crossed to the windows and the view of the city. A billion-dollar view. And Sterling was providing it. She could’ve pinched herself.
The bellhop and concierge had both left, leaving her room keys and luggage in the spacious living area. She almost felt like holding her breath.
“I’m in Ireland.” Her amazed voice echoed around the room. What hotel had accommodations big enough for echoes? And this wasn’t even the only room in her suite.
She peeked through the doorway to the bedroom. Gorgeous. Elegant. She’d always dreamed about visiting Ireland, but had figured she’d do it on a shoestring budget. This was luxury.
A knock sounded at the door to her suite.
Housekeeping? Maybe she left something in the car?
She pulled the door open and every word disappeared from her brain.
Sterling. She hadn’t been expecting him, but she should have known he’d drop in.
He’d arrived a few days ago. He was most likely staying in this same hotel.
She was here to arrange an event on his behalf, and he liked to be involved in the details. Of course he would drop by.
“You made it,” he said with his trademark smile. “Does everything meet with your approval?”
Meet with her approval? How could it not? But she kept her composure. “It’s great. It will be an excellent home base for the work I have to do.”
“I’m glad to hear it. And your flight?”
“It was excellent. I was surprised how well I slept.”
He nodded. “Good. I want to run some thoughts and useful information past you. But I know you’ve just arrived, so take the time you need to settle in.”
He was going to leave? So soon? “Come in,” she instructed. “I’d like to get started right away. You’ve been here longer than I have. I’d appreciate whatever you can tell me.”
He came in, and she closed the door behind him. Turning to face the living room again took her breath away. It didn’t seem to have any impact on him. What would that be like, being so used to something like this that it basically went unnoticed?
She snatched up her messenger bag and sat at the round, glass-top table. Sterling joined her there. He pulled out his phone. She opened her laptop.
“First,” she said, “have you changed anything about what you’d like this event to be?”
He shook his head. “A memorable event to, basically, seal the deal with Meta, Google, —all the big players.”
She looked over her laptop at him. “They’re all headquartered here?”
He nodded. “And they’re not the only ones.”
Dublin really was a tech hub. No wonder he’d come here. “How soon do you want to have this event? I’ll need a couple of days to narrow down locations and caterers, if needed. Entertainment. That kind of thing.”
“A few days will be fine. End of the week, maybe,” he said. “I know you’ll manage your usual miracle.”
She smiled broadly. It was one of the nicest things anyone had said to her since she began working as an event planner. It was complete trust. She appreciated that.
There was a knock at the door. “Strange,” she said. She wasn’t expecting another visitor.
“That’ll be Conall,” Sterling said, not at all surprised. He rose and made his way toward the door.
“Who?” she asked.
“Conall Malone.”
That name wasn’t familiar. Sterling opened the door and motioned someone inside.
Keighley eyed the doorway with curiosity and a bit of annoyance.
A guy stepped inside, probably not much older than she was.
While his hair wasn’t truly red, it leaned that way.
He was handsome—she couldn’t deny that—but in a quiet way.
Different from Sterling. Even people who had no idea that Sterling Westcott was a billionaire with influence and importance took note of him. This Conall Malone wasn’t like that.
Conall nodded in her direction. “Keighley Ainsworth.” Definitely Irish.
She leaned back a bit in her chair, quirking her brow upward. “Have we met before?”
He shook his head, even as a bit of a lopsided smile tugged at his mouth. “Mr. Westcott told me about you.”
“What, exactly, did he tell you?”
Conall crossed to the table where she sat and, quite at ease, dropped onto a chair as well. “He told me you and I share a profession and, for the next week, we’ll also share an assignment.”
What? She looked immediately to Sterling. “I don’t understand.”
“There is a lot to get done in only a week, and you have never been here before. Someone local will speed up the effort. He knows people and venues. It’ll be helpful.”
Only a moment ago she’d been thinking how great it was that Sterling had total faith in her. Then this Conall showed up: the billionaire’s plan B.
She recovered her equilibrium quickly, though. Sterling apparently didn’t know how capable she really was. They hadn’t done enough events together. And she was unproven overseas. But that would change in the next week. He would see.
She opened her mouth to insist she didn’t need Conall to hold her hand as she made connections and scouted locations in Dublin, but Sterling had already boarded the gratitude train, telling Conall how glad he was to have him working on the event.
Keighley kept her growl of annoyance silent. Sterling had total control over this job and who worked it. She’d simply have to show him—and Conall—that she could manage on her own. Sterling valued hard work. So did she.
Here was her chance to remind him of how good she was. And maybe, just maybe, they’d have a chance to find out how good they could be together.