“Aw, Norie, you know you had fun. You certainly made an impression on that dark and sexy Irishman! What was his name? Evan? Ethan?” Amelia asks as she saunters into the kitchen and grabs a mug out of the cabinet.
“Eamon,” I answer too quickly and immediately regret it. All four of my friends are giving me looks with varying degrees of mirth.
“Stop,” I order, holding up a hand. “I know what you’re thinking. He insulted my drinking abilities, and I had to prove him wrong—no matter how much I may be questioning my sanity now.”
“Tell me more about this mystery man,” Layla demands, curling up on the other side of the couch. “I missed all the fun and now I need the details. Did you really drink him under the table?”
“You should have seen her!” Amelia exclaims while pouring herself a cup of coffee. “She had already shared a flight with me, and then she challenged this guy, who is gorgeous by the way, to the Whiskey Guinness chasers! I’ve never been so proud! But then old man O’Nelly put a stop to it before they could get to round four.”
“Round four?Dios mio, you really were trying to impress him!” Layla laughs.
“No.” I shake my head and then wince from the movement. “No, I was not trying to impress him. I was proving a point. Proving that just because I’m a woman does not mean I can’t enjoy a good beer or hold my own against said man.”
“Oh, Norah. Whatever you say,” Myra retorts from where she’s perched at my kitchen island. “It’s been too long since you’ve set your eyes on a man. I’m happy for you”.
“I havenotset my eyes on anyone. I don’t even know him, and I’ll probably never see him again. It was just a moment of pride. Now,” I say, rising from the couch. “I need a shower.”
I march to the bathroom to wash off the humiliation of last night and take a moment to myself. As much as I love these girls, sometimes I just need peace and quiet to process. Last night was a mistake. Thrilling, but a mistake.
My mind flashes back to my last mistake almost four years ago. Havingjust returned from Ireland I headed straight for the nearest Irish pub needing to feel that magic again. Normally a sunshine and warm weather-loving girl, I missed the overcast skies and constant greenery. I walked into the pub and looked around slowly. It was exactly like the numerous pubs I had visited around Temple Bar. The shining wooden bars had stained glass on the front faces of them, and Irish ditties were playing overhead. At the bar, wiping the water drops from clear glasses, stood Pat O’Nelly. With a tweed cap on his head, round glasses sitting on his nose, and a friendly face covered with a white beard, he was just what I needed. I walked up and sat on the stool in front of him.
“Good evenin’, lass. What can I do for you on this warm summer’s eve?” he asked in a thick brogue.
“Guinness, please. A proper Guinness,” I told him quickly. “I just got back from Ireland, and since I can’t jump on a plane and head back, this is the next best thing.”
“Ah! The Green Isle! And how did my homeland treat you?” he asked jovially.
“It was…a dream come true. So magical. Everything was perfect. I’ve never been to a more wonderful place,” I prattled.
“Aye. It is a land of magic, lass. Did you go for holiday or studies?”
“Holiday. One day, I’ll go back,” I promised, “and find my husband!”
“Ach! There’s not a better place to find a husband if I do say so myself! If only you could talk to my dear Ellie. She’d confirm it.”
“Does she not work in the pub with you?” I asked, looking around.
With a hint of sadness in his eyes, Pat told me the story of his voyage to America after the passing of his wife. The love they shared seemed to be genuine and everything I wanted in a partner. Someone full of affection and a little bit of mischief, to hold and protect me and make me laugh. I sat there for an hour, listening to his stories until the pub started to get busy. People were filing in and crowding around me. Everyone was anxious to get their drink and visit with Pat. Before I knew it, I had downed a couple of Guinness and a shot of whiskey. Towards the end of the night, I found myself surrounded by a group of guys cheering me on as I downed morealcohol. One in particular stuck close to my side throughout the night, and against my better judgment, I welcomed the attention. With my inhibitions lowered, I ignored not just the warning bells ingrained from past trauma, but also the looks Pat was giving me and let myself be reckless for just one night. I like to think that I had handled my Mom’s death in a healthy way, but sometimes the pain of losing her hit hard and I just wanted to be someone else for a while.
When I finally decided to call it quits, my new friend, whose name I will never remember, offered to walk me home. As we cut through the park close to the pub, he put his arm around me and I didn’t object. When we rounded a corner that put us in a more secluded part of the park, he stopped abruptly and turned me toward him before kissing me harshly and groping me. Terror flooded my veins and I froze. When he realized I wasn’t responding the way he wanted, he got angry and accused me of being a tease. Tearing myself from his grip, I began backing away. He attempted to grab me, and I screamed loud enough that he stopped his advances, spat some ugly words at me, and left. By then, the panic attack had begun. I felt completely helpless as I stood there gasping for air and shaking violently. It was several minutes before I was able to calm myself enough to call Charlie.
My thoughts drift back to the present as I finish showering. The hot water soothes away the memories from that night leaving me feeling only slightly better than when I woke up. The cheeseburger waiting for me in the kitchen should help with the rest before I go apologize to Pat for last night’s debacle. I hate the idea of him being disappointed in me.
Chapter Three
Eamon
Groaning, I roll over and hit the snooze button on my blaring alarm. It’s been a while since I drank that much, but it’s a relief to know that I’m not in tatters after last night. Why did I drink so much again?Oh, that’s right.I’doffendedthat lass. Norah. That was her name. She was a fine thing, with a head of red hair and stormy blue eyes. The way she glared and then challengedmeto a drinking contest brings a smile to my face. While she had given her demand to Alicia, I had taken the time to check her out. With curves like that, how could I not? Her hourglass figure was perfectly encased in her green V-neck shirt and dark jeans. I deserve sainthood for not staring at the moderately plunging neckline that showed off the swell of her breasts. Not that I noticed.
I amble out of my room and into the kitchen, where I pour a glass ofwater and grab an aspirin to clear my head. I have practice in a couple of hours. That should give me enough time to shower and apologize to Paddy. I never drink that much, and he was not happy about it. For an Irish pub owner, he’s pretty strict on his consumers. Cranky old codger. Either way, I’m not about to get on Pat’s bad side.
After showering and getting ready, I lock up my flat and head to my car. I’m just sliding into the driver’s seat when I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and groan when I see who’s calling. My younger sister, Caity. She only ever calls when she wants money.
“Hiya, Caity,” I greet her as cheerfully as possible. “How are ya?”
“Hey. What are you doing?” she asks absently.
I can’t stop my eyes from rolling. Leave it to Caity to forgo civilities.
