Sheets of rain beat against the windscreen as a wiper began to break loose from its rubber band. The shrill ring of Grace’s mobile added to her frustration. She had left it in her handbag, which was lying on the floor on the passenger side, too far to reach. She was already running late, and pulling over could mean the difference between making the flight to New York or not.
It was probably Dirk and she really didn’t want to talk to him. Why couldn’t he understand that this was her dream? Yesterday morning when the cruise liner docked in Bayrush Harbour, it had been the best feeling. All of her hard work had been worth it. But then Dirk had started on about setting a date again … Why couldn’t she commit? She was wearing his ring. She was already in deep – three and a half years and a house together deep.
“Stop,” she said out loud, surprising herself. “Focus on what’s ahead. JESUS!” She narrowly missed the bumper of the car in front. The sooner she got to the airport the better.
What if the call was from Eoghan, her business partner? A great deal depended on the meeting she was to attend later. Maybe he’d forgotten to tell her something? He was supposed to be with her but had woken earlier with an ear infection and couldn’t possibly fly. At sixty years old Eoghan was in excellent health but today it had let him down. It meant she’d have to make the pitch of her life, alone! The nearer Grace got to Dublin Airport the worse she felt. Nerves mixed with excitement filled her.
Waiting at the traffic lights on the dual carriageway, she looked into the rear-view mirror. “If it’s to be it’s up to me,” she said, trying to quell the many doubts she had about herself. She looked across towards the lane beside her and sure enough, there were two lads in a minivan grinning at her. Thankfully the light changed so she stuck her foot to the floor, laughing.
Grace had sent an email explaining about Eoghan’s sudden illness and had asked if they would agree to him making a conference call. The time difference meant she’d had no reply, but at least they’d be aware of the circumstances. Eoghan was an expert at all things nautical while excursions and activities were her areas. If they could sign Pal Pacific to their books it meant they could stay in business. If not, well … that wasn’t a thought she could afford to have!
Sophia sat in the back of the taxi. The radio was playing one of her favourite songs, “The Way We Were”. Barbra Streisand’s voice said it all.
“What time is your flight luv?” asked the driver, breaking her reverie with a thick Dublin accent that she knew so well from her many trips.
“Oh not until one-thirty, I’ve got plenty of time.”
“Well you certainly got the weather until now,” he said nodding towards the window as the rain bucketed down. “The best we’ve had in years! What part of America are you from?”
“New York.”
“The Big Apple! Me and the missus went there a few years ago. In the good times. Sure I couldn’t get her outta the shops. I got lost in that Macy’s more times.”
Sophia smiled, noticing two twinkling brown eyes looking at her through the driver’s mirror. The way he spoke about his wife saddened her. She would never be Bill’s missus again.
“So, were you here long?” He seemed determined to keep chatting.
“Just four days this time.”
“Oh, so you’re a regular. Well, is there any Irish blood in ya?”
“None.”
“Jaysus that makes a change! I don’t think I ever had an American in the taxi that didn’t have a drop in them.” He paused, obviously waiting for an explanation.
“I’m an original then.” This seemed to stop him in his tracks. He fiddled with the radio and changed the channel. Sophia looked out the window and wondered would the emptiness she felt inside ever leave her. The taxi driver was nice but she’d had enough of idle chatter.
Sitting in Mr Morrison’s waiting room in Bayrush, Jessie could feel her heart racing. She looked across at another couple; the woman seemed to not have a care in the world as she browsed through VIP magazine. Jessie could feel Geoff shifting uncomfortably in the seat beside her, a sure sign he was just as nervous as she was. She picked up a magazine and flicked through the pages, anything to distract her.
“Did you see the match last night?” asked Geoff, directing his attention to the fellow sitting across from him beside a heavily pregnant woman.
“Ah stop, it’d break your heart,” the guy replied. Their voices became a background noise to Jessie’s nerves. She turned the magazine page and saw a picture of a mother kissing a chuckling baby on its cheek. Its beautiful round eyes seemed to look straight into Jessie’s heart. She was terrified. Twenty years together and they had been blessed with six-year-old Sam. She was afraid to think about what had happened four years ago.
“Mr and Mrs McGrath,” announced the secretary, breaking Jessie’s thoughts. She touched her tummy and felt so grateful for the little life inside. She was so looking forward to seeing the baby for the first time. She knew it would just be a blob on a monitor but it would be their little, long-awaited blob, and she was looking forward to showing Sam the print-out. He was so excited. “Only another twenty-eight weeks to go,” Geoff had told him this morning at breakfast.
Jessie heard the rain outside and hoped that Grace would make it safely to the airport. All her hard work was paying off. If the deal went through Grace could finally make wedding plans. Just then Geoff looked at her and gave her that sweet, private smile he saved for her. She relaxed; he was right to smile. She had made it to twelve weeks. Their dreams were coming true.
Jack Leslie looked out of the aeroplane window. They were circling over Dublin. The view was incredible, even on a rainy day. He had loved Dubai but since the shock of finding out about Lynda’s betrayal, he hadn’t been functioning properly. He’d never suspected a thing. He had actually thought they were trying for a baby. What a fool she’d made of him! Women, he was finished with them, devious, conniving and cold. The jolt of the aeroplane touching the tarmac bought him back.
“Fáilte romhat go hÉireann, and thank you for flying with us today.” He loved the sound of the Irish accent. He had missed it. Over the years he had been back and forth for holidays. But could he actually live in Ireland again? Or did he even want to?
“Miss Grace Fitzgerald, travelling to New York, please report to the Aer Lingus customer service desk immediately!”
Oh no, thought Grace as she weaved her way through the June holiday crowds. She joined the queue at the desk. Her mind was working overtime. What could it be? Oh please God it’s not Jessie; stop being such a pessimist, she told herself. Grace was so anxious about her best friend’s scan. Please God everything would go well for her this time. Grace was virtually hopping from one foot to the other; she was already short on time. She settled herself and continued waiting her turn.
“I’m terribly sorry,” said the perfectly made-up ground hostess. “We actually have a small problem with the flight to New York. It is overbooked but we have taken the liberty of upgrading you to our premier service.”
“Oh my God, that’s fantastic. Thank you so much. I’d better get a move on or I’ll never get through security.”
“Here is your boarding card and have some champagne on us. Enjoy!”
“Thanks a million,” Grace said, picking up her hand luggage and rushing towards the security gate.
After passing through security she made her way along the series of corridors to the gate, thrilled to be travelling first class. She could hardly keep the smile from her face. Eoghan not being able to travel had been such a blow. Being upgraded certainly made up for it.
Standing on the moving sidewalk she looked through the glass wall dividing the arrivals from the departures. “Oh my God. Jack!” she said out loud, spinning around and nearly tripping over her carry-on luggage and crashing into the woman behind her.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, completely flustered.
“No probs, whoever he is … he’s very cute! Don’t you think you might be heading in the wrong direction?” The woman laughed.
Grace smiled but the man she had taken for Jack had been swallowed in the crowd so she couldn’t be sure it was him. “An old friend,” she said, taking the handle of her carry-on and pulling it off the moving sidewalk. The woman smiled too knowingly for Grace’s comfort so she decided to walk along the corridor instead.
Jack Leslie had been such a good friend when she had badly needed one. She had seen his wedding photograph in the local paper nine years ago. He had looked so happy her heart had nearly broken all over again. Underneath the photograph it had said he was living in Dubai and that the dark-haired girl beaming beside him was from Chicago. What’s wrong with you, Grace? Focus, she told herself, shaking her head from side to side as if willing all her issues and concerns away.
Jack walked along the arrivals corridor. Dublin Airport had changed so much over the years, he thought. He could see the departures passengers through the glass wall. Part of him wanted to change his mind. Was he crazy to come back?
He spotted a tall, blonde girl and for a brief moment he thought he recognised her. Could it be Grace? He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Somewhere in the back of his mind had he always compared every other woman to her? Was that why he was coming home? He ran a hand through his curly brown hair, settled the holdall on his shoulder and kept on walking.
Dr Morrisson stood up and walked around his desk. “Jessie, Geoff, it’s so good to see you both again.” He kissed Jessie on the cheek and shook Geoff’s hand. “Congratulations,” he said warmly.
“So far so good,” smiled Geoff, “she’s been keeping well and taking it easy. Haven’t you Jess?”
She nodded and smiled, noting that Geoff was as nervous as she was. He always talked more when he was anxious, but who could blame him. He hadn’t been keen to try for another baby when she had miscarried four years ago. He had said, “isn’t Sam enough?” But she had desperately wanted a brother or sister for Sam. It hadn’t happened so she had stopped hoping. She hadn’t noticed missing a period, not until she had been feeling off a few mornings in a row. Then she had been violently sick the following day. The pregnancy test had confirmed it. When she told Geoff he had simply taken her in his arms and held her tight, reassuring her that everything would be all right.
“That’s good to hear. Unfortunately the ultrasound just went on the blink a few minutes ago. I won’t be able to scan you today, Jessie.”
“It’s no problem, these things happen,” said Geoff, squeezing Jessie’s hand to reassure her. She smiled, trying to hide her dismay.
“I know how much you’ve been looking forward to the scan but I can check for a heartbeat using this machine. I’ll take a listen?”
“Can you fit us in on Monday for a scan?” asked Jessie as she rolled up her top.
“It’s Friday afternoon so I can’t promise. Jennifer is getting in touch with the technician as we speak. We will, of course, make you a priority.”
Dr Morrison placed the listening device on her bump and moments later the room was filled with the wonderful, magical sound of the baby’s heartbeat.
“That’s a nice solid heartbeat Jessie,” declared the doctor, smiling.
“Fantastic,” said Geoff, grinning from ear to ear.
“Thank you, Dr Morrison,” said Jessie, closing her eyes and relishing the sound as the two men chatted. If she could stay like this for the rest of her pregnancy – wouldn’t it be fantastic! Too quickly Dr Morrison disconnected the equipment and the sound stopped. So much for that thought she smiled as Geoff helped her back into a sitting position.
“Jennifer will arrange another appointment for you as soon as possible. Again I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”
“No problem. We’ll see you then,” replied Geoff.
Having arranged to come back next Wednesday they walked hand in hand to the jeep.
“Now that we’re in town let’s go for lunch,” beamed Jessie. “I can eat for two.”
Geoff laughed and threw his eyes to heaven. “You always could!”
“Geoff McGrath, the cheek of you.” She laughed as she climbed into the jeep. “It’s a good job I’m not sensitive.”
Grace sat sipping champagne from a crystal flute. The seat beside her was still free. She gazed around the cabin. So far she hadn’t spotted anyone famous or anyone even vaguely interesting-looking for that matter. Between being upgraded, and thinking she had seen Jack, she had completely forgotten to check her mobile for its missed call. Just then her attention was drawn to the entrance of the cabin.
“Good afternoon Mrs Wynthrope. It’s good to see you again,” said the air steward.
“Thank you. It’s always a pleasure to fly with your airline!”
He took the red cashmere shawl she proffered. Meanwhile, another hostess handed the woman a glass of champagne while the steward guided her to the free seat beside Grace.
“Hi, I’m Sophia,” she said with an American accent.
Not anticipating an introduction Grace stuttered, “Eh, I’m Grace, and I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Lately I’m not quite sure where I’m supposed to be either, so cheers,” said Sophia, clicking her glass to Grace’s with a perfectly manicured hand and then sitting.
“Sláinte, that’s what we say here. But you probably knew that.”
“Ah sure and I do. Before you say it … that was a terrible attempt at an Irish accent.”
“I won’t disagree,” laughed Grace, holding up her glass. “It’s a pity I can’t have a few more of these.”
“Why ever not? You’ve been upgraded. They’re free!”
“I suppose these gave me away,” said Grace, pointing to her jeans.
“No, it was the ‘I’m not supposed to be here’ statement. You could pass for a model or a movie star with that bone structure. People no longer dress for premier class. It’s not like the old days. So tell me why only the one glass?”
Grace reddened at the by-the-way compliment and she was glad the cabin steward distracted them by collecting their glasses and checking seat belts for take-off.
“So …” Sophia remarked, encouraging Grace to expand.
“I’m making a presentation at five-thirty today to Pal Pacific.”
“Wow, Pal Pacific, one of the biggest cruise companies in the world. Are you crazy? Why didn’t you fly yesterday?”
“You see that’s the thing, our business is small. Yesterday we had a cruise ship in so I had to be there. We handle the ground arrangements for visiting cruise liners.”
“Fascinating, tell me more?”
“Well, there are two of us, myself and Eoghan Forrester. The business is called Ireland for Real. We contract tour guides on the days the ships dock. The company is only four years old but hey, we’re getting there. So you can imagine our excitement to get a call from these guys!” Grace was on a roll because Sophia was taking so much interest. “Anyway enough about me! What do you do?”
“How do you know that I do anything? Maybe I could have married well?”
Grace had put her foot in it so she decided to plough on. She was never going to meet Sophia again. “Okay, this might sound cheeky but … you don’t look the type.”
Sophia laughed a deep, sexy laugh that caught the steward’s attention. She called for another champagne adding, “And a soda for my friend.” He looked quizzically at Grace.
“A diet coke would be great, thanks,” she said, relieved that Sophia obviously hadn’t taken offence.
“Now tell me about the excursions your company offers,” said Sophia, settling herself into the comfortable aircraft seat.
“Good to see you Bro,” said Jack, hitting shoulders with his older brother. He had a sudden urge to hug him tight, but Conor would think he was losing it if he did that, they weren’t that kind of family. Conor had been stunned to silence when Jack rang to say he was coming home indefinitely. He had been grateful that his brother hadn’t grilled him as to why the sudden decision; instead he had offered to pick him up from the airport.
Jack planned to crash at his mother’s until he found a place to rent. He had told his mother that Lynda needed to go back to the States for a while and so he was taking the opportunity to come home to see if he could get some work away from the heat of Dubai.
He knew that his mother wasn’t convinced by his story but she had gone along with him and for that he was glad. The last thing he needed from anyone was pity.
“What’s in the bag? A dead body?” joked Conor, lifting the large suitcase into the boot.
Jack laughed, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. It was good to be home. When his father had been alive he hadn’t been able to get away fast enough. Life had been hell for them all.
Was it crazy to come back? Could Bayrush ever be enough for him? Could he honestly see himself working as a vet in a small town in the south-east of Ireland?
“You know, Sophia, I’m grateful to be working at something I enjoy – especially in the present economic climate. God, I sound all mushy and stupid!”
“My grandmother once said when you earn a living doing something you love you’ll never work another day of your life.”
“I like the sound of your granny,” said Grace, just as the steward passed them the dinner menus. The two of them spent the next while discussing them in detail. They discovered a shared love of food and both agreed that they didn’t cook half as much as they would like to.
“I’m glad you’re not a member of the lettuce leaf brigade,” said Sophia.
“With these hips you must be joking,” said Grace, slapping each hip with her hands.
“They’re curves. You know, I’m glad I met you. It feels like being in premier class for the first time.”
Just then, Grace accidentally hit one of the buttons on the seat and sent herself flying.
“Sophia, if you don’t stop laughing they’ll throw us out,” said Grace. But that only made Sophia laugh harder. “I have to admit I was thrilled about the upgrade. But if I had to pretend all the way to New York that this is what I’m used to it wouldn’t be half as much fun.”
“I’m going to have another glass of champagne because, Grace, it’s a long time since I laughed so much and meant it.”
“Go for it girl,” Grace smiled, wondering what it was that had made this lovely woman so sad.
After a delicious dinner of crab cake and lamb for Grace, and pate and salmon for Sophia, they were sipping coffee when Sophia asked. “So when is the big day?” She inclined her head towards Grace’s left hand. Immediately Grace began to spin the lone diamond set on its platinum band with her thumb. She flushed and then answered quietly. “I don’t know.”
Sophia shifted in her seat, forcing Grace to look at her. Her silence was almost deafening. “It’s the truth,” Grace heard herself say and then added, “I really don’t know.”
“How long have you been engaged?”
“A year.”
“So what’s the problem?”
It was Grace’s turn to shift in her seat. She couldn’t believe she had got into this conversation especially with a total stranger but her mouth hadn’t quite connected with her brain. “I’m scared. I really don’t know if he’s ‘the one’.”
“Oh my dear …” The genuine sympathy in Sophia’s voice made her continue.
“We’ve been together three and a half years. We bought a house together two years ago. He thinks I’m holding back because I want a big wedding … and to be honest I’ve allowed him to believe that. But … oh Sophia. Oh God. I’m sometimes so scared at the thought of marrying that I feel paralysed. I can’t believe I’m telling you this …”
“Grace, it’s a huge decision and I’m actually honoured that you are sharing with me. In my life I have found that when I actually voice my concerns it helps me to be clearer in my decision-making. It’s simply because I begin to hear it aloud.”
“It’s been in my head for so long Sophia. I was afraid that if I said it I would be judged harshly. Why would I lead Dirk on? What if he heard it back? I do love him. It’s just … well my father left a note on the kitchen table when I was sixteen and we haven’t seen him since.”
“Oh Grace, I’m so sorry.”
“That happened such a long time ago I thought I was over it. But when Dirk proposed … well … I so want us to be together but a part of me keeps thinking that being married didn’t make my dad stay.” She bent down to retrieve her handbag to search for her mobile phone; looking at the screen it showed Dirk’s missed call. “Oh God, Sophia. Dirk tried to reach me on the way to the airport and I completely forgot to ring him back.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself! I’m sure he understands this meeting is a big deal to you,” said Sophia, her voice was so full of understanding it made Grace relax. “Now didn’t you say you needed to relook at your presentation?”
“Absolutely, and thanks, Sophia,” she said as she began to set up her laptop.
Grace was so grateful that Sophia hadn’t started to dish out advice or push her for more information. She hadn’t even seemed to judge her. The world hadn’t stopped turning now that she had actually said how she felt. Working took her mind off everything and she became so engrossed that the time slipped away. Meanwhile, Sophia had begun to read her book.
Thirty minutes or so later Grace noticed Sophia was fast asleep with her half-moon reading glasses perched on her nose. Her perfectly cut and coloured honey blonde bob drew attention to high cheek bones. It was hard to tell how old she was – mid-fifties maybe. But her eyes were her best feature. They were so full of genuine interest. She had a way of extracting information at a great rate but told nothing about herself. A nagging suspicion that something awful had happened to her wouldn’t go away.
Shutting down her laptop, Grace’s thoughts drifted back to the more important task at hand. “If it’s to be it’s up to me” ran the little mantra in her head again.
When the flight landed they walked together to the baggage claim area.
“I only have carry-on luggage so I’d better get a move on. Well, it’s been lovely meeting you Sophia. Take good care,” said Grace.
“Oh no, you don’t, young lady. How do you plan on getting to your meeting?”
“A taxi, of course!”
“You’re in my town now and I plan to get you to that meeting with time to spare.”
“No really Sophia, I’ll be fine. I’m going to the ladies, to freshen up. I won’t inconvenience you.”
“You are already by objecting. Now off you go and I’ll meet you over there,” she said, pointing towards a seat opposite the baggage carousel.
“Ah, thanks a million Sophia. I won’t be long.”
Ten minutes later Sophia watched as Grace made her way through the crowds. Because of the importance of the meeting she was about to attend, Sophia had steered her away from talking about the dilemma Grace was in. She had been so touched by her. Of course she’d have commitment issues. Who could blame her?
She noted Grace’s change of clothes. She wore a light pink, silk blouse which softened the sophisticated look of her beautifully tailored, high-waisted grey skirt. Her shoulder length blonde hair was newly brushed and tied in a knot at the nape of her slender neck and her full lips had been given a fresh gloss. Sophia noted the admiring glances Grace received, yet she seemed completely unaware of the attention.
“You look stylish with an edge of sexy,” remarked Sophia as they made their way to the arrivals hall.
“I should hang around with you more often. You’re great for a girl’s ego,” laughed Grace.
Moments later a perfectly dressed chauffeur greeted Sophia.
“Good afternoon Mrs Wynthrope. I hope you had a pleasant flight,” said the driver, tucking his cap under his arm.
“Yes thank you, George. It was made all the more pleasant by my young travelling companion,” she replied, taking Grace by the arm.
“Ladies, you won’t mind waiting a moment while I drive the limousine around to meet you.”
Sophia could see that Grace was struggling to be cool and not ask any questions. Minutes later George opened the trunk and placed Grace’s small overnight bag along with Sophia’s set of Louis Vuittons inside.
“Okay, I give up,” declared Grace, putting her hands up in the air. Sophia laughed as Grace sat into the limo. It had cream leather seats and thick, dark carpet underfoot. There was a TV monitor and a drinks cabinet.
“So what are you thinking?”
“That this could only happen in America and I’m impressed.”
“Not half as much as you have impressed me!”
Grace felt the colour rise in her cheeks. It had to be a record-breaking day for blushing, she thought. “I did go on a bit. Maybe I needed to talk to a stranger today. I’m glad we met and thank you for the ‘ride’ as you Americans call it.”
They arrived at the skyscraper housing the headquarters of Pal Pacific.
“Let’s keep in touch. I’d like to hear how your meeting goes. Here’s my card. Have you got one?”
“Of course,” Grace took a card from her purse and handed it to Sophia.
“Thank you, Grace Fitzgerald, for reminding me of how it felt starting out in business.”
“And thank you for making the journey feel so short. I didn’t have time to feel nervous. My stomach is doing somersaults at the moment.”
Sophia smiled and said in her terrible impression of an Irish accent. “May the luck of the Irish go with ya!”
“Ah Sophia, if you insist on doing the accent, will you for God’s sake practise it!”
Sophia burst out laughing. “I’m being nice to you and that’s the thanks I get.”
Grace laughed and declared, “Do you know it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Sophia?”
Then Sophia reached over and gave Grace a quick hug and wished her luck again.
Moments later the sleek black limousine rejoined the New York traffic.
Sophia entered her penthouse building on Park Avenue.
“Welcome back, Mrs Wynthrope. It’s so good to see you,” said Tyler, the doorman. He had been working in the building since the year after they’d bought in. Twenty-six years ago.
“Thank you, Tyler, and I hope your grandson’s christening went well.”
“It was a great success and my daughter-in-law was so pleased with your gift. You really shouldn’t have,” he smiled. His kindness to her could never be repaid. It was the small things that you remember when your life falls apart. Tyler’s genuine sincerity had shone through when she had most needed it.
“It was just a small token. I’m glad she liked it,” she answered, getting into the lift.
Moments later she alighted at the top floor. She opened the door and walked into the beautifully furnished penthouse. As always her eyes fell upon the antique Chinese marble-topped hall table which she had been admiring when Bill had first approached her forty years ago. As she stroked her fingers along the pink-hued marble she could hear his voice in her head as though it were yesterday.
“It’s sold. But if you want to see it again you can always come visit,” he had said.
“And who would have thought a man so arrogant could have such good taste,” she had retorted and had walked straight out of the antique shop onto Warren Street. He had followed her, smiling and saying, “I meant my mother’s house.”
“You don’t even know my name and you expect me to meet your mother,” she had replied, really enjoying his crazy sense of humour.
“We might as well get straight to it because it’s gonna happen sooner or later. I’m William Wynthrope Junior.”
“I’m Sophia Campolo and I don’t date strangers.” She had continued walking up the street smiling as he called after her.
“We’ll meet again Sophia. I just know it. Arrivederci.”
The tears trickled down her cheeks as she remembered those words. He had kept his promise. It had taken a massive heart attack to part them. No chance to say “Arrivederci” ever again. The cold feeling of the marble seemed to travel up her arm and enclose her heart. Ten months, three weeks and four days and the hollow, empty feelings were as strong as ever. Some days she wondered why she bothered to get out of bed. Going to Ireland had been a flight of fancy. They had always talked about buying a place there. Part of her had still wanted to, but when it came to signing the contract she hadn’t been able to do it. Her loneliness had been too overwhelming.
She picked up her cell phone and pressed Richard’s number. It went straight to voice mail. Her only child was a busy man running Wynthrope Communication Inc., the company she and Bill had built together. Bill had had the finance and business acumen while she had had the vision and passion. Her plane journey had awakened her a little. Listening to the young Irish girl so full of enthusiasm had been a breath of fresh air. She really hoped Grace’s meeting went well. She had surprised herself by asking for Grace’s card. It had been a long time since she had been genuinely interested in anything or anyone.
Grace took a deep breath and then pushed the heavy glass door open.
An hour later she emerged onto the sidewalk punching the air with excitement. A man in a business suit commented, “I’m glad someone is having a good day.”
“The best,” she said as he returned her smile. She rang Dirk. He answered on the fifth ring.
“Hello,” he said in a preoccupied tone. It was ten-thirty in the evening in Ireland and she knew he was busy with a wedding party at The Meadows Country Club he managed.
“Oh Dirk, can you believe it! The cruise company’s on-shore team were so happy with the range of excursions I offered they’re prepared to sign for two years. They’ve heard …”
“Listen that all sounds great but I have to go. You know how it is around here.”
“Okay …”
“Bye,” he said, clicking off before she had time to reply. She stood looking at the phone. Talk about bursting her bubble. He knew how much it meant to her – why couldn’t he be genuinely glad for her? Okay, she should have called him back earlier but to hell with him, she thought scrolling to look for Eoghan’s number. “Eoghan, that was fantastic. Thank God for technology. You were great at answering all their queries.”
“No, Grace, it was you. They really bought into the picture you painted of Ireland. We have so much to offer and you presented it well. So take a bow, I’m so proud of you. Let’s keep it small and tight, Grace, overheads at a minimum.”
“I know, Eoghan, but …” she answered.
“No buts, Grace. We have to be realistic.”
“Okay, okay, but I’m going to celebrate tonight.”
“God help Manhattan with you and the mad Lisa. You can charge it to me,” he laughed.
“Hey, I bet you’re going out on the town too.”
“Sure am girly. I’ll be heading down to Nutties in a few minutes – ’tis a far cry from Manhattan.”
“Don’t going buying a round on me!” she laughed, clicking off. She was so glad to have her old school-friend to celebrate with. A part of her wanted to ring Sophia but … it might be a tad forward of her, maybe Sophia was just being polite.