Page 50 of Her Irish Boss

She scanned the bar before looking back at the bartender. The redhead's eyes were still locked on Simmons. “What's the name of this place?”

“Fiona's.”

She typed it into her phone. Cathal responded immediately.

Luckily, I'm right down the street.

Ha! It looked like her Irish bodyguards were still around after all.

Simmons is here.

That time, she didn't get a response.

“I'm still waiting on my Kettle One,” Simmons said to the bartender.

“And I'm still waiting on you to stop bothering this lady.” She pushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Can you sit there like a nice gentleman or do I need someone to throw you the hell out?”

“I've been nothing but a gentleman.” He sneered at her. “I offered her a job when the place she's working closes down.”

“You’re the one shutting it down!”

Simmons moved down two seats, too, putting himself right beside her.

She stood. “I'm not interested.”

He grabbed her by both hips, pulling her off balance in her high heels. “Stop playing me.”

The bartender shouted something, but she couldn't hear it. Not with the buzzing in her ears.

She slapped Simmons again, but he smiled, his fingers gripping so hard, she began to squirm.

Her knee caught his groin.

His eyes bugged out from the impact.

And then she stumbled backward, landing on her butt. Several people helped her up as she tried to make sense of what'd happened. Had Simmons pushed her?

The bartender slapped at someone who had Simmons pinned ontopof the bar, his legs dangling off the edge, one shoe falling to the floor from him kicking frantically.

Cathal.

She went over and tugged at Cathal's shoulder. “Cathal! Chill. God, he can't breathe.”

Cathal said a string of words. Who knew what with the accent and dropping in and out of Irish. She'd be lucky if he didn't crush Simmons's windpipe with his forearm pressed into his throat.

“Cathal! Don't kill him!” She tugged harder. He released Simmons and stumbled backward with her, holding his hands up. Simmons slumped over on the floor, gasping for breath.

The bartender agilely climbed over the bar to see her customer. “Geez, man, you did about kill him.” She shook her head, eyes pinned on Cathal. “Damn it. You need to calm down. I don't need this now. I just got my liquor license back.”

The bouncer walked up, but the bartender waved him away. “It's done.”

Selena gave her an apologetic look. “I'm sorry. It's a longstory.” She stepped in front of Cathal. The pure rage on his face didn't match up with the easy-going man she knew—the one whose brothers joked about his laziness.

Twice, Cathal had gone completely crazy on Simmons. She'd have to contemplate it later.

“What happened?” Katie came over, her girl of the night right behind her. “Did Cathal go ape-shit on Simmons again? I didn't see him walk in. Either one of them.”

“No, I don't guess you did.” She spared Katie half a glance. “You going home or staying here?” Because, at the moment, she never wanted to set foot in another bar. Or see Simmons again.

---