Chapter Five
Keighley sat in the usual spot in the hotel lobby the next morning, waiting for Sterling to join her for their morning debriefing. She held her teacup in one hand and scrolled through TikTok with her other.
After a couple of stops on the impromptu Dublin tour the day before, she’d gotten into the spirit of being a cheesy tourist and posted a few snippets of her adventure.
Conall had even convinced her to record herself on the top of the double-decker bus, photobombing her as she did.
She scrolled back until she came to that post. It made her laugh every time she looked at it.
Friends and family had commented on it, more so than any of her other posts, all saying how happy she looked and that she seemed to be having fun.
She was. She’d had fun all day. It was hard to remember the last time that happened.
Even while scrambling to find a venue last night, she’d still been enjoying herself.
A text had come in while she was asleep—the time difference made that happen—from her best friend, asking, “Who’s the redhead?
!” And another from her mom—an animated GIF of a cat saying, “Who dat?” Mom was a little obsessed with GIFs.
She’d posted shots with Sterling at the event she’d planned in New York. No one had to ask who he was. Everyone knew Sterling Westcott.
She opened her camera app and swiped through the pictures she’d taken at Christ Church Cathedral.
At Phoenix Park. The Leprechaun Museum. She laughed at those last ones.
The museum itself had been entertaining, with lots of enjoyable folktales and an interesting tour guide.
But the pictures they’d taken in the gift shop were her favorite.
There had been a giant plush leprechaun to pose beside, complete with leprechaun wardrobe accessories to sport.
She’d said no at first, but Conall, being Conall, had talked her into it.
She was glad he had. If nothing else, the pictures were priceless.
She looked up at the sound of purposeful footsteps. That would be Sterling.
And it was.
He sat across from her, coffee cup in hand. She’d seldom seen him without some degree of a smile on his face. It was missing this morning.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“A long day yesterday.” He took a swallow from his steaming cup. “You seem to have enjoyed yourself, though.”
She was confused.
“Your posts,” he said. “You forgot I follow you on TikTok, didn’t you?”
“I guess I did.” Was she in trouble? She wasn’t a child, and like she’d told Conall, Sterling wasn’t technically her boss. But his tone hinted that she’d broken some rule of his.
“Did you book a venue for the mingle event?” he asked. Sterling was always very business-minded, but he wasn’t usually this gruff.
“I did.”
The man actually looked surprised. Keighley pushed back her offended frustration.
“I told you I would have a venue booked, and I do.” She closed out Insta and pulled up her note app.
“Friday night. The rooftop terrace here at the Marker. It can easily accommodate a group the size you’re planning on.
The bar will be open. The hotel will cater with plenty of cocktail foods and hors d’oeuvres.
I’m going to bring in a private serving staff so no one is trying to work the restaurant downstairs and your event.
We’re also looking into hiring a small musical group to provide some background ambiance. ”
He nodded. Was that approval or simply acknowledgement? He was usually more complimentary.
“Are you unhappy with the arrangements?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said.
This was odd. “If there’s something specific you’d like for the event, now is a good time to let me know, while I’m still finalizing everything.”
He smiled a little. “I’m kind of in a bad mood this morning, I guess. I shouldn’t worry about this event. You pulled off the last one and did great.”
“That’s why you brought me here.” She lightened her tone so he would know she wasn’t offended that he’d been grumbling.
“It is why,” he said. “And I know you’ll do great. Are plans solid enough that I can mention it at meetings today, or is it still up in the air?”
She shook her head. “No reason you couldn’t. I’ll have invitations printed up today and distributed tomorrow so it’s official and professional, but you can tell people. I don’t anticipate any of the big details changing.”
“This is a very important event,” he said pointedly. “Striking deals here means getting a foothold in the European market. That expansion is a multibillion-dollar opportunity.”
“The mingle will help with that goal,” she said. “Just like you want it to.”
Where was this coming from? He hadn’t been directly critical, but there’d been a heavy hint of it.
“And has Conall been doing anything to plan this?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” It was a sound of mingled surprise and doubt.
“He has. He had a good list of venues that we checked and discussed. He knew the type of music that would be most appreciated. And he’s going to find and hire the band.”
“He’s a multitasker.” Sterling spoke a little dryly.
“We’ve gotten a lot done,” she said.
“Apparently.” He rose, coffee cup still in his hand.
“Are you upset with me?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I just want this to go well.”
“It will,” she said.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
He gave a quick nod and left. Keighley pushed out a breath, but it didn’t relieve the tension.
She had her phone out the next instant and texted Conall.
DEFCON 1
Keighley grabbed another cup of tea on her way back up to her room.
She needed to make calls, finalize things.
Design an invitation and find a printer.
By the end of the day, the big bits needed to all be in place.
She would not have another morning meeting with Sterling like the one she’d just had.
She’d laid out her bullet journal, pens, the menu the hotel had given her the night before, and the list of information she’d gotten from Sterling on her first day in Dublin. She opened her laptop. Before she could even start designing the invitation, her phone buzzed.
A text. She glanced. It was Conall. Perfect.
What’s happened?
Some of her strain eased. Conall would jump in and help. She knew he would, and not just because he’d been hired to.
Sterling is worried the event won’t be ready in time, or good enough.
She watched the three dots. This was helping, weirdly enough. She’d only known him three days, but he’d somehow become her friend.
His answer came back quickly.
What else needs to be done?
Her deep breaths were coming easier.
Design, print, and send out invites. Finalize menu. Decor. And a band. We need a band.
I’m working on another event this morning. But I’ll have a band for Westcott’s do by this afternoon. Fast enough?
That’d work. She sent a thumbs-up emoji.
He answered a moment later.
Do you have a printer for the invites?
Not yet.
I’ll send you a few reliable shops. Any of them will do.
She released a relieved breath.
Awesome. Thanks.
She leaned back in her chair and let the tension slide from her shoulders. They were making progress. Sterling hadn’t seen it, but they were.
The next morning meeting would be a million times better. It had to be.
***
Keighley hadn’t stopped working all day.
She’d ordered room service and snatched bites between texts, phone calls, and emails.
The invites made it out to the printer by noon.
They were delivered to the hotel by two o’clock.
She delivered them to all the companies that were located within walking distance of the Marker Hotel.
Those farther out, she sent invitations with a courier service.
Sterling, she had discovered when planning the event in New York, had money enough to spend that he would rather spend more to get things done quickly and right the first time.
On her way back to the Marker after dropping off the last of the invitations, her phone buzzed. She hoped it was Sterling asking how things were going. Giving him an impressive update would have done her ego a lot of good. But it was Conall, which was surprisingly even better.
Do you have dinner plans?
She texted back.
No.
He answered with a destination name, address, and a few brief directions.
Half six?
She stared at that for a long while, no idea what he meant by that. Finally she answered.
Could you translate that into American?
6:30.
She grinned. Now and then, the people here said something that made no sense even though they were speaking English. It was kind of fun to try to figure it out.
Sounds great. See you then.
She stopped at the concierge desk and asked about the place where Conall was meeting her. “I don’t know if I ought to change into something more formal or . . . ?”
The man shook his head. “It’s a pub. You’ll fit in grand wearing just what you are.”
“A pub?”
He nodded. “A great spot. Music’s always bang on.”
That sounded awesome. Upon arriving there at 6:30, she decided “awesome” was the exact right word for it. It was obviously old, but it felt totally alive. It was bright and open. It was busy without being so crowded that it was uncomfortable. Perfect.
She spotted Conall quickly. He smiled and wove his way over to her. “You found the place.”
“I had very good directions.” She looked around again, still impressed. “Maybe we should have held Sterling’s event here. This place is great.”
“He would’ve hated it.” Conall spoke with unwavering conviction.
“Why do you say that?”
He walked with her back toward the table he’d been sitting at. “The day he hired me on, we met at the hotel bar. He ordered some fancy drink I’d never heard of. I ordered a Guinness. He said, and I quote, ‘Hmm.’”
It was the exact “hmm” she’d heard from Sterling a few of times over the last two days. Surprise, doubt, confusion. Maybe even a little disapproval.
“Any man who looks down his nose at a Guinness isn’t going to be caught with even one foot in the door of a place like this. The hotel terrace is a better spot. You chose well there.”