Chapter Seven
Grace
It had been a little over a week since we went to the vet with Jane.
Jack had even sent a care package to the flat of gourmet dog bones and food.
No man, hell, no person had ever done something like that for my dog.
And while at the office, I was supposed to focus on finishing some HR paperwork before Fallon came into work, but my thoughts kept drifting to him.
He’d always been brooding, almost beastly. The only time he had ever smiled was when he was flirting or expecting something. Watching him melt for Jane Pawsten made every part of me acutely aware of the man before me. I had to count my breaths as I took them, so I didn’t let out a sigh watching him pet the little furball’s ears. And when he offered to have her come to the office without a second thought? It took everything in me not to embrace him right there.
But I couldn’t let my boss’s reaction to my dog cloud my judgment. This was a job, and he was the arsehole I’d grown up with. Not to mention, said arsehole was also my best mate’s brother.
Just because he had a soft spot for dogs didn’t change any of that.
The roll of the chair against the wooden floor signaled that Fallon was about to take the seat next to me. “Hey, Grace? Whoa…are you okay?”
I looked up from my computer where I had been staring at the same page for at least half an hour.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” I asked, wiping at my mouth. I hadn’t eaten anything since I wolfed down a little bit of toast and coffee as I ran out the door of my grandparents’ place. I’d been dropping Jane Pawsten off in the morning, then hauling arse back downtown to make it into work. Sometimes in between there I’d grab a coffee or something at a café if I had time. Or spare change I found in the couch cushions.
Fallon took her seat with a huge grin and I tried to focus on her instead of my imagination. “You can’t even wipe that blush off your cheeks. Something tells me things must be going pretty well with you and this job. Or is this about you and Jack? I’ve seen you two laughing on more than one occasion when he passes by your desk. I don’t think he ever laughed when Aileen was his assistant, nor I for that matter. You must be doing something right.”
I shook my head, mentally scolding myself. Blast. I needed to stop thinking about Jack so often. The funny moments that had us both laughing and the other ones that I wouldn’t reveal out loud. “No, no. Just amusing wording in these HR forms.”
She raised an eyebrow. “There is absolutely nothing remotely comical in those forms.”
“I’ll have you know this passage about…” I looked at the screen, reading the first line that popped up, “‘precatory and concluding activities will constitute compensable hours…’ Okay, blast, that isn’t funny at all.”
“I knew it. You act pissed off at him all the time, but you still took this job and by the way you two look at each other…”
“You’re doing that rambly thing again,” I muttered, trying to be nice but wanted to know where she was going with her statement.
She shook her head slowly. “What I mean to say is, I guess it’s just good to see that you’re happy here. Not many assistants walk out of here with anything other than a groan and a name for Jack that I won’t repeat out loud.”
“I’m just happy to have this job.” I said.
She sighed, rubbing her hands down her legs. “Look, it’s probably not my place to say, but I’d kind of consider us friends. Maybe I’m overstepping.”
She paused and tilted her head slightly.
I nodded slowly. “Yes to friends.”
She let out a deep breath, running her palms along the hem of her dress. “Well, as a friend, I should tell you that Jack usually isn’t this nice to his assistants. Or invites them to breakfast.”
I didn’t tell her about our visit to the vet that interrupted our meeting, though she may have noticed I was glancing at my phone a lot more often. I made sure to check in with my mum and make sure Jane stayed out of the plants.
“It was a meeting. It’s a job. I did what he told me to do.”
He made it seem more like breakfast with a friend, even complimenting me then helping with Jane, which was more than I could have asked from anyone. Ever.
But I couldn’t let that cloud my judgement and get soft for the guy.
Even if him getting soft for my Janey was the very thing that kept melting my heart.
Damn him and being sweet to my dog.
“I’m just saying, it’s nice to see Jack and you are getting along. Whether it’s work or something else.”
I was aching to talk to someone about what my mother had said. To have someone else dissect what the bloody hell was going on. Was the marriage contract real? If it was, was that why Jack was talking and being so nice to me? And why hadn’t Sean told me about it?
Who would know better than someone who was married to a Murphy?
“I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m just trying to get settled in Dublin,” I muttered, still trying not to think about his piercing blue eyes and the way I wanted more than just his gaze on me.
Fallon shrugged. “Okay.”
We were silent for a few more beats before she smiled and turned toward me again. “Hey, Connor has a meeting at five, so how about joining me for dinner after work at the Murphy’s downstairs?”
I cleared my throat. “The pub? I thought that was just used as part of the museum not an actual, still-in-operation pub.”
“Well, it’s the first Murphy’s Pub location that they keep open next door to the museum on the first floor. I mean I think technically it’s the second location since I heard the first location was in the basement of a funeral home or something.”
I widened my eyes and Fallon waved her hands in front of her.
“If you’d rather have something fancier I’m sure I can look up a British-type restaurant for you,” she stammered.
I shook my head. “No, no. I didn’t even know that was a real working pub and thought you might be sick of that type of fare after working here.”
She laughed. “One would think, but I guess all those years of undergrad then my master’s conditioned me to live off beer and fries, or chips as you call them. And it’ll be on Murphy’s tab so if you really want to grind Jack’s gears, order whatever you want.”
I laughed, liking Fallon’s quick wit. And it would be nice not to have to sit alone in the flat, eating jam and crackers for dinner. Maybe I could even bring something back for Jane and check on her real quick before dinner. “Okay let me just message my mum to make sure my dog is okay then I should be good to go.”
“Great.”
…
After a phone call to my mum, and a long talk with the maid about Jane and her medication, I finally headed downstairs with Fallon for dinner.
Strolling into the pub, we made a beeline for the wooden bar and sat down on one of the few empty stools. It may have been a weeknight, but that didn’t stop almost every booth and seat from holding a patron with a pint.
“What’ll it be, girls?” the beefcake male bartender asked us.
“A pint of Guinness for me,” Fallon replied.
“White wine, please,” I answered. I didn’t plan on having a drink, but since Fallon ordered, I figured I would, too. I just couldn’t take the dark beer everyone here drank.
Even though other people were waiting, the bartender poured our drinks, setting them in front of us. The Irish were known for their beer and whiskey and definitely not this watered-down stuff they called wine. But I drank anyway, trying to forget about my moment with Jack at the vet.
Why was he getting to me like this?
If it was true what Mum said about the clause in the will, he needed a wife for the company. Not a girl with dog problems and commitment issues.
Fallon plucked a menu from the condiment caddy, handing me the worn laminated paper. “I think I have this thing memorized, but you probably need a minute.”
Thankful for the break in my thoughts, I glanced over the old English text, thinking I should go for the farmhouse salad, but it was hard to turn down a good fish and chips.
After Fallon and I ordered the same thing, she turned to me, looking over her pint. “Now that we’re away from the office, I have to bring it up. The history with you and Jack? I’m really curious about it.”
“Bloody hell,” I muttered, taking a big swig of my drink. I was going to need something a lot stronger if I was going to talk about my childhood.
Not that any of it was terrible. I was just like any other kid at boarding school with parents who shipped her off whenever they could. But my history with Jack was something even I had trouble putting into words.
She raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”
I shook my head. “Not bad, per say, but we were two different people.”
I took another gulp of my drink. “I’ve known him since I was just a wee girl. Sean and I became fast friends, but Jack was a different story. He was always the brooding, popular heartthrob the girls fawned over. I was invisible. The punk girl who would rather read or listen to music with Sean than go to a sporting event. Hell, he didn’t even recognize me at first at the gala, and before I knew it, you’re emailing me to apply for a job and now here we are.”
She smirked. “Obviously you made an impression on him. From one former invisible girl to another, I can say that the Murphy men do like women who know what they want and go for it. Some call us headstrong or bitchy. Take your pick.”
“I think my father said the same thing about my mother during their divorce battles. Well the latter,” I muttered.
“Shit. Sorry. My parents have called each other all sorts of names. Still don’t know why they’re together, actually. Probably too cheap for a divorce.” Fallon shrugged, but there was something else that said a whole other story behind her gaze.
But I wasn’t going to get into that. Just as much as I was sure she didn’t want to hear about how my parents’ marriage and divorce made me think matrimony and love were bollocks.
I took a drink of my wine then decided to try and put the topic back to her and my curiosity was piqued about how her and Connor actually did get together.
“I didn’t think either of us would be a Murphy boys’ type, no offense, and not that I’m interested either,” I said quickly, setting my glass down, which was soon filled again by the bartender.
“Guys may pretend or even think they want the easy girls who throw themselves at them. But when it comes down to it, they all want someone who will challenge them.”
Her gaze trailed across the bar and then her entire face lit up. “Like for instance, right now, with Jack’s current date who is boring the hell out of him.”
My breath caught in my throat as I gasped involuntarily, following Fallon’s eyes to a small table where Jack was seated with a redhead across from him.
Fallon was right. I may not have interacted with Jack much these past few years, but I knew the tapping of his fingers and the constant glances at his phone were never a good sign.
Probably the only reason he was still sitting across from the woman was because he’d do anything to get the CEO title. To keep Murphy’s Pub. That made a twinge of guilt hit hard in my gut.
He may have been a wanker at times, but he really did care about his family and friends. He would do what he could for them. Including boring dates and paying for his assistant’s dog’s medical bills.
“I think I should go save him,” I said without thinking and leaping from my seat.
Fallon’s eyes widened. “What? Are we a superhero duo now?”
I looked at her then back across the bar where Jack’s blue eyes flitted to mine. A small smirk crossed his lips, my own quirking into a grin in return.
What the hell?
My body pulled me like a magnet drawn to him. I practically floated around the old wooden bar until I was standing right beside his table, staring between him and the photo on the wall behind him.
The redhead was chattering nonstop in a giggly voice about something, but my focus stayed on Jack.
The guy was making my knees weak and I held on to the empty chair next to me, trying not to think about what that meant.
And now that I was in front of him, I had no idea what to do or say.
The redhead looked up, furrowing her eyebrows with a scowl. “Um, can we help you?”
I swallowed hard, licking my lips before turning to fully face Jack, and putting a hand on my hip. The first thing that came to my mind was ridiculous, but it was a game I’d played more than once with Sean when he had a lousy date in school. I figured the oldest brother could use the same escape plan.
“Jackie Poo, you didn’t tell me you were leaving the office right after work. Like, I looked everywhere for you and then poof, you’re gone.”
Jack’s smile turned into a grin as if he knew exactly how this game went. “Sorry, Grace, I thought…”
I put my hand up with a dramatic sigh and looked at the redhead. “He does this all the time, yanno? But I’ve gotten used to it as long as when he’s done with his whiskey, he comes back and we shag like rabbits.”
The redhead’s face turned a darker shade than her hair, her eyes shooting daggers at Jack.
I covered my mouth and gasped. “Oh no. Was I not supposed to say that? Were you trying to shag him, too? Let me tell ya, he’s not the best, but he’s really easy. Just make sure he wraps it because when he has a flare up, whew!”
Jack stood up, a deep scowl on his face as he put his hand on my back, turning me in the other direction. “Sorry, Cara, it appears my assistant needs me. I think she must have been struck with fever. Have the waitress put your drinks on my tab and I’ll text you later.”
Cara stood up, glaring as she pushed her cleavage up. “No need. I’m leaving. You have fun with your assistant or whoever she is.”
With those words, Cara stomped out of the bar.
As soon as the door shut behind her, I let out a laugh I’d been holding in for far too long.
“Shagging and flare ups? That in one of those novels you edit, or did you come up with that just to embarrass me?” Jack tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowed.
“A little bit of both. It always worked well with Sean back in school. Usually, it took longer to get those girls to leave. Am I that intimidating?” I asked, putting my hand to my chest.
“Well, you succeeded in making sure I won’t be getting a second date.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Did you really even want the first one with her? You looked bored out of your mind.”
A hint of a smile played on his lips. “Probably not.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Sean used to tell me you were like his wingman, which I never believed. I always figured you two were shagging and he didn’t want to tell us.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Me and Sean? Ewwwwww. No thank you. I’ve seen the women he’s dated and talk about flare ups.”
Jack shook his head. “Well, I guess my date is over. Time to move on to the next one.”
“I guess that’s the closest I’ll get to you saying I was right and thank you.”
“What are you doing at the pub anyway? Didn’t take you for a beer and chips girl. Or think that you’d leave Jane Pawsten that long.” He nodded at a passing waitress, the smell of fried foods wafting from her tray and making my stomach rumble.
“Oh, I’m here with Fallon. Just a quick bite after work since Connor had a meeting. And Jane’s at my mum’s with strict instructions for her not to get near any plants,” I replied.
“Is she doing better? No other run-ins with the vet?” He quirked an eyebrow.
My chest warmed, hearing the genuine concern in his tone that no one else had, not even my mum. “Yes. She’s been taking her medications and all of the house plants have been put out of her reach, as well as a small wall in the garden that she barks at, wondering why it’s blocking her.”
He laughed. “I’d love to see her trying to hop over that. I bet she’s stubborn like her owner.”
I bit back a smile, trying to glare and appear mad. “I’ll have you know that some people say stubbornness builds character.”
He smirked in return, shaking his head as he walked with me toward the other end of the bar where Fallon was now standing next to her stool. She had her purse slung over her shoulder and her light sweater back on her shoulders.
“Looks like you saved the damsel in despair,” Fallon said with a laugh then tilted her head. “What is it called if it’s a man, though? Just dam? Damselo?”
“Good to see you, too, Fal,” Jack said.
“As nice as it is that we’re all having a good time and not at work, I have to leave. Connor is almost done with his meeting, so we’re going to head home,” she said quickly.
“What about your meal? Are you taking it to go? Should we order something for Connor?” Blast, now Fallon had me rambling like her.
She shook her head. “I’m sure Connor will cook something, but since the order is already in, why don’t you and Jack enjoy it? He owes you another glass of wine anyway.”
A flush of heat crept up my neck as Fallon winked, turning so her blond ponytail swished over her shoulder.
Was she trying to insinuate something with Jack and me? I mean that was a given, but sitting and having a drink with him could lead to other things. Things that would make him think I wanted more.
“That’s not necessary. I can just get it to go,” I stammered, trying to sound authoritative but my mouth had gone dry, and I could barely get the words out.
I said I didn’t want to be a wife, but that didn’t mean I still wasn’t attracted to the guy.
“Nonsense. Sit and have a meal with me. I owe you that and something better than watered down wine,” he said, pulling out my stool.
I looked between him and Fallon then finally sighed and took my seat. I guess eating the meal I ordered couldn’t hurt. And maybe he didn’t have any feelings for me. Maybe he just wanted a meal with an old friend.
“Fine. But only because it’s already been ordered. Then I have to get home,” I said, trying to put my shoulders back and keep my composure before tucking a stray strand of my wavy brown hair behind my ear.
“I’ll see you two tomorrow,” Fallon called before she headed out of the pub.
Jack took the stool next to mine and signaled something to the bartender.
I frowned. “What was that about? A secret code?”
He let out a quick breath of air through his nose. “If I’m going to sit with you in my pub, I’m not going to watch you drink some shite wine.”
His accent was thicker when he swore, and with the warm roll of his words a thrill of anticipation shot through me and down to my long neglected nether region.
Not now. And not with him.
The bartender sat down a flight of stemless glasses filled with different amber liquids.
“What is this?” I asked.
He picked up one glass, handing it to me, and then took one for himself. “Whiskey tasting. It was a long day at the office and an even worse attempt at a first date. I figure my knight in shining armor, or whatever you want to call yourself, deserves to find her favorite whiskey.”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t remember the last time I drank whiskey and especially not with my boss. My boss, who I was starting to dislike a little less and that old childhood crush was starting to reappear.
“I don’t think us getting drunk together is the best option here,” I muttered, lowering my glass.
He put his hand on mine and warmth spread throughout my body, making me cross my legs and try to ignore the ache that pressed in my core. “I didn’t say anything about getting drunk, mo gra. I’m just saying, let’s enjoy one drink. I still owe you for being a gobshite at the gala.”
“I think you’ve done more than enough. The job. Apartment. Jane…” I hesitantly looked from the glass up to his dimples and blue eyes. Blast, the man had a way of making a girl melt for him.
“Let me do this. As one friend to another. Not as your boss. Or your friend’s brother. Let’s try for one night to play nice at least.”
Sucking in a deep breath, I looked down at the glass instead of at him.
“One drink and dinner since it’s paid for,” I muttered into the whiskey before downing the burning liquid.
He laughed. “It’s going to be a long night if you keep drinking it like that.”
I coughed, hitting my fist on my chest. “Or a very short one. That stuff is strong.”
“You can’t just down a fine glass of whiskey like a shot at some fraternity mixer,” he said with a smirk, swirling his glass.
“Should have figured you were in a men’s organization at uni,” I said, picking up another glass and swirling it as he did.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to judge me for that, too?” he asked, putting his face closer to the glass.
I shook my head, pressing my lips together. “No. Just stating a fact.”
He nodded, taking a sip. I thought I saw a hint of a frown cross his face, but it disappeared in the amber liquid.
I smirked, reaching for my almost empty wineglass by a plate of fish and chips. When did I drink so much wine? No wonder my head was getting fuzzy. I probably needed to eat. “So, were you in a men’s organization? Or am I assuming?”
I popped a chip in my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time I had the fried potatoes. Mum always made little quips about how we “both needed to watch our figure” and guilt would riddle me. Now that I was away from her, I could finally relax. I didn’t have to worry about her judgey comments that made it even harder to see her on holidays when I was younger. She would wrinkle her nose at my curvy hips or new choice of fashion, like my punk phase, or that week I decided I was goth.
Not that Dad was any better. Always distracted. It wasn’t until the divorce I realized it wasn’t work distracting him. And Mum’s quips weren’t just for me. She thought if she could have that perfect figure, maybe he wouldn’t have had the wandering eye.
But figuring that out came years too late.
After so many years, I was happy with the way I looked. How my life was going with a great job at a publisher and my own flat in London. Then it all came crashing down with the divorce, losing my job, and now the move to Dublin.
Now Mum and I were back on square one. I was back to the awkward little girl from the UK, hiding in her best friend’s shadow.
The awkward little girl who was sharing chips and drinks with a very gorgeous man who just happened to be said best friend’s brother.
“You know what they say about assuming?” He said, leaning forward, resting his hands on the arms of his chair.
I rolled my eyes, knowing that his answer meant he definitely was one of those fraternity types. “Fine. Then if we aren’t going to talk about your days at uni, then let’s talk about the business. Why don’t you teach me how to drink whiskey?”
The words were out of my mouth before I could take them back.
He let out a single laugh and picked up a new glass.
“Very well, mo gra. I guess we can make this a work dinner.”
“You don’t need to use your flirty words with me,” I said with a huff, but there was something about the way he said it to me that felt different than before. Like he wasn’t just using it as a natural term of endearment, but there was a new fire behind it.
He must have felt it, too, because he cleared his throat, his eyes darting away from mine as he focused on the glass instead.
“Unlike wine, you shouldn’t jam your nose into a whiskey snifter. It is a higher alcohol content than wine, and you might get tipsy just from the fumes. Instead, swirl your drink around a little and carefully whiff the scent at the top of your glass,” he said, twirling his glass with extra oomph and tipping his head back slightly.
“What am I supposed to smell? Hints of chocolate? Bitterness? Bad life choices?” I asked, picking up a glass and swirling and sniffing. I didn’t get much other than an alcohol smell that burned my nostrils. At least it gave me something else to focus on besides the sexy man next to me with his incredible lips emphasized by that damn dimple.
Bloody hell, I was drunker than I thought if I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth.
He shook his head. “Whiskey isn’t about figuring out a certain smell or color. It’s about the feeling of that smell. Like snow on Christmas. It gets you nostalgic for something more.”
I took in a deep breath and inhaled the scent before downing the drink.
Whiskey may bring back memories for some, but I also knew enough of it could make me forget for a while.
“Another?” he asked, holding out a full glass.
I sighed, the warmth of the liquor traveling through me.
His dark blue stare made me lose track all of the reasons I was resisting my cocky boss and every other shitty thing in my life. “Why not?”
After a few more glasses of whiskey, I was relaxed. Really laid-back for what felt like the first time in forever.
“You know, I should be thanking you for tonight,” Jack said, setting his empty glass on the bar.
“I did save you from that awful date. Though, if not much has changed since I last saw you, you probably would have taken her up on a shag.” I laughed, picking at my fish and chips that had now gone cold. I couldn’t count the number of drinks I’d had and should have probably censored myself in front of my new boss. Even if he was my best friend’s brother.
My best friend who had sent me a few texts asking what I was doing for dinner and I told him I was sharing a meal with Fallon.
Not a complete lie. I was supposed to be having dinner with her.
Now I just happened to be sitting next to his brother instead.
Jack frowned, looking at his whiskey glass instead of me. “Most girls just want a shag or what money can buy.”
“Not all women want that. Of course, if they have Jack Murphy in front of them, they’re probably thinking something along those lines,” I said, trailing my arm in the air. As if my long arms could encompass everything from his shined loafers to his perfectly styled hair.
All of that should have stayed in my head instead. The man was every bit as gorgeous as the men I saw on romance covers and looked like he’d spent some time in the gym with the pull of his muscles against his dress shirt. I, on the other hand, hadn’t seen the inside of a gym or yoga studio since we has moved to Dublin. The extra weight I had put on went mostly to my arse and hips which I was becoming more acutely aware of the longer I sat next to this man.
His lips quirked, bringing out those blasted dimples. “Most women just want to go on a date with me because they know I’m set to inherit my father’s company. What they don’t know is that the only way I can actually take my rightful place as head of the company is that I have to be married.”
This time I did almost choke and probably spit whatever saliva was in my mouth as I leaned forward, trying to feign ignorance. “What? You’re kidding? Right?”
He shook his head, taking another glass of whiskey the bartender had set out for him. “I wish I was. After Da died in April, we had a reading of the will, and there was an inheritance clause. We all have to be married within a year and stay married, or the company goes to the highest bidder on the board. Could be your granddad, which would be great for you.”
“Damn. Guess I’d better see if Sean’s gonna propose to me,” I said, trying to lighten the conversation and not think on how my mum said the same thing. The brief thought alone twisted my gut.
“Finding a woman to shag is easy, finding someone to marry is something completely different,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.
I shook my head and opened my mouth to question him, but then closed it again. Was that what he wanted from me? For the shagging or the other part?
My mind was already whirling from the alcohol, but this conversation was making my head spin.
This was the point where I needed to tell him I knew about the clause already. I didn’t know if he was just talking or if he was trying to insinuate something with us. But whatever it was, it wasn’t going to happen. He needed a wife and that wasn’t me.
But instead of voicing anything, I just stared at the beautiful man in front of me, who pulled a large note from his wallet and set it on the counter. “Want to get out of here?”
“What?” I asked, not sure I heard him right. Did he really think I was going to shag him?
“There’s no way I’m letting you walk home alone like this,” he said, standing up and putting his hand out to me.
I may have been pretty knackered, but I could still hold my ground. “Do you seriously think I’m just going to take you back to my flat and shag you after a few glasses of wine and whiskey?”
He leaned in low so his mouth vibrated on my ear. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping my mouth just from the warmth of him.
“If shagging was what you wanted, I would oblige. But I’m a gentleman, Miss Evans. I’ll only make you come if you ask nicely and if I know you’re not completely shitefaced.”
I closed my legs tightly together, feeling the soft ache just from his words. This man could turn me into a puddle of goo and prick goose bumps all over my body just from speaking. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
He smirked. “So?”
“Let me ask Mum if Janey can stay there. I don’t think I can go get her like this. And pretty sure you don’t want to have a conversation with my mum,” I said quickly, pulling out my phone and sending a text. He replied with something, but my brain was fuzzy and I was already texting Mum.
I didn’t mean to lie, or type that long a message. But the screen was fuzzy and I couldn’t admit I just got knackered with my boss.
I dropped my phone into my pocket book, sucked in a deep breath, and let it out as I took his waiting hand. I was pretty smashed and wasn’t sure I could make it home myself in the dark. Nor could I probably take care of my dog in this state, or hungover in the morning.
What could it hurt to have someone help me out?