Chapter Six

The following morning, Gracie and Bernice entered the lobby from the elevator instead of the front door, where Declan and I were dispatching airport departures.

“We won’t be needing our shuttle to the airport,” Bernice said. “We’ve decided to stay for New Year’s. Our dates went quite well.” She winked. “We’ll send you links for all our contest forums and copy you on the ones we enter you in. And we bought you a subscription to Ancestry.com so you can research our McKinneys. We’ll send you what Scottish family history we have after the holidays.”

I smiled. “That wasn’t necessary, but thank you.” The research site might also help me find more Coffey rellies.

“I don’t want to know if you learn anything bad, though,” Gracie said.

“Well, depending on how bad,” Bernice added.

“How bad is bad?” I was curious, since I was debating telling Mom if I confirmed Grandma had been married in Ireland, along with any other family secrets I might uncover.

“Like if you find a murderer in the family,” Gracie said.

“But what if he was a famous murderer?” Bernice asked.

Gracie nodded. “I suppose if he was a famous killer like… James Bond famous but certainly not Jack the Ripper famous.”

Bernice pondered that a moment. “I think James Bond was English, not Scottish.”

“He was an English agent, but in Skyfall he went back to his childhood home in the Scottish highlands.”

Bernice nodded. “That’s right. He was Scottish.”

He was fictional.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

Gracie sniffed the air, top lip curling back. “What is that smell? It’s not the hotel’s cedarwood…it’s more spicy…”

Bernice nodded, sniffing with the determination of a hound dog. “Lavender…” Her nose crinkled. “And…”

“Vanilla,” I said. “It’s my purse. I doused it with the hotel’s signature vanilla-lavender-scented spray.”

Bernice’s nose was still crinkled. “Well, I think they need a new signature scent. No offense, dear, but it’s a bit…exotic.”

“Because I was trying to cover the smell of goose curry in my purse.”

Gracie gasped in horror. “You threw up in your purse?”

“No, it just smells like it. I stuck my apron in there.”

“Ah,” the ladies said, nodding.

Declan joined in their nodding, having obviously been wondering about my stench.

“Well, it doesn’t really smell that bad,” Gracie said.

Bernice and Declan shook their heads reassuringly, but not real convincingly.

“It had a nice aroma when you were cooking it,” Bernice said.

“Which reminds me, could you please delete that video of me choking on the goose?”

“I already did, dear.” Bernice gave me a sympathetic pat on the arm.

Phew. One less thing to worry about.

We exchanged good-bye hugs. I almost had to pry Gracie’s arms from around Declan. We promised to stay in touch.

Curt and Derik were late for their airport transfer. Our last departure. No way was I delaying our trip to Killybog because those idiots were passed out in a drunken stupor, hopefully in their room and not under a Christmas tree. Curt finally answered his phone, sounding groggy and disoriented.

“Your airport shuttle is leaving.” I used my stern motherly tone. “If you aren’t down here ASAP, you’ll be responsible for the additional hotel nights and rebooking fee, which will be massive. Flights are sold out until after Christmas.”

“Shit.” The line went dead.

Eight minutes later, they came down reeking of stale smoke and booze, hair uncombed, and clothes spilling out of their half-zipped suitcases.

Curt tripped on his untied shoelaces. He glanced down at his brown tennies, then at the red ones on his buddy’s feet. “Dude, we have the wrong shoes on. Your feet are way huge. I can’t walk in these.”

“You can switch in the car.” Declan grabbed Curt’s elbow and steered him toward the door, his suitcase wheels bouncing against the marble floor.

Curt almost tripped again walking out the sliding doors.

My mind flashed back to me racing out these same doors and my backless shoe flying off, my phone shooting from my hand as I fell flat on my face in front of Brecker’s CEO. He’d disconnected his call to peel me off the ground. I’d been even more mortified when he’d noticed my dancing leprechaun socks from the hotel’s gift shop—I’d forgotten to pack socks. Declan had witnessed the entire episode. Within minutes, he’d had me laughing rather than crying, sharing a story about him tripping down the stairs of a moving bus filled with attendees. I smiled at the thought of Declan’s tale, rather than cringing at the memory of my embarrassing moment.

We stuck the idiots in a black sedan and slammed the doors.

“If they’re denied boarding or miss their flights, it’s the airline’s issue. I’m not answering my phone.”

We returned to the lobby as Rachel exited the elevator pulling two large rolling suitcases. She wore her usual travel attire—black yoga pants, black T-shirt, a black jersey cardigan, and flats. Her hair was pulled back in a clip. She often went casual when traveling. Or did it mean she’d spent another steamy night with Gerry Coffey?

Last night after giving away the backpacks to four very appreciative and emotional mothers, I’d wanted to pop by Rachel’s room and tell her about Declan’s thoughtful gift, but it’d been too late. I wanted her to think more highly of him on a personal level and to share the experience with her.

She headed toward us with a somber expression. Declan took her luggage, and we walked in silence out to her waiting vehicle. I struggled to remain strong for both our sakes.

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir from Killybog.”

“Take lots of pics. I just put in for my spring vacation so I can join you here after the St. Paddy’s Day program.”

Good to know she still had me working that trip. E-mailing her the encouraging note from Finn, and the impressive candid shots I’d taken, had helped smooth things over between us, professionally anyway.

Rachel eyed Declan. “Take good care of her.” Her serious tone bordered on threatening.

Declan nodded. “No worries. Of course, I will.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I mean it.”

Declan stared her down. “So do I.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you,” I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood and prevent a brawl.

Rachel and I hugged. Teary-eyed, she got in the car without looking back. The car disappeared down the street.

Needing a good laugh, I turned to Declan. “Tell me about the claustrophobic client in the elevator.”

“I have a better idea.”

Declan wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me snugly against him. He held my gaze until his lips touched mine. I lost myself in the kiss. Besides an overwhelming sense of passion, a sense of freedom and adventure raced through me.

I couldn’t wait to learn about Grandma’s past.

And to take the next step in my relationship with Declan.