Page 16 of Broken Blood Ties

“What’ll you have?” A raspy female voice from behind the bar interrupts my staring.

“Oh! Hi, Lizzy. I’ll have a dirty martini,” Shelly says. She slaps her hand on the bar and lets out a teensywhoopwhen the bartender, apparently named Lizzy, gives her a nod and a wink.

“And for you?” Lizzy sets a napkin down in front of me.

“Club soda, please.”

Shelly side eyes me. “One drink won’t kill you.”

I offer her a thin, tight-lipped smile.

That’s not my experience.

Shelly shrugs off her wool coat, draping it over the barstool next to her. I drum the bar, relishing the slick wood top under the pads of my fingertips. I can’t help but scan the crowd every so often, looking forhim.

“—so then I told him I’d only have sex with him if he gave me pizza.”

I blink.

My gaze snaps to Shelly who’s leveling me with ahello, aren’t you listeningexpression, then she raises her eyebrows into aof course not, which is why I made up something ridiculous to get your attention.

“Sorry. I was just looking to make sure he wasn’t here.”

“Or maybe you’re secretly hoping heishere.” Shelly tips her head forward and grins.

I most certainly am not. “He almost got me fired,” I deadpan, trying to convey how irritable I am. I’m not nervous to see him other than the fact that I’m not convinced I won’t march up to him and punch him in the face. I don’t trust myself.

Mr. O’Donnell being absurdly handsome … that’s just … my luck.

“All right. One dirty martini for you”—Lizzy returns, placing Shelly’s drink in front of her, then she flips her long braid behind her—“and a club soda for you.” She smiles at me. “Going hard tonight, huh?”

Shelly snorts, almost asphyxiating on her drink as she brings it to her mouth. “Believe me. If there was ever a time for stick-up-her-butt Summer to drink it’d be the week your brother complained about her.”

My mouth falls open. “Brother?” I say as Lizzy chuckles.

Shelly takes another gulp of her drink and nods her head up and down. “Yep. Lizzy here is Kieran O’Donnell’s, or as I like to call him Mr. McHotty’s, sister.”

“Half-sister,” Lizzy corrects. “So what’d he do to you?”

“Oh, uh, nothing?—”

“Summer here called your big bro to chew his ass out over not submitting Aoife’s field trip permission slip. He didn’t take too kindly to that and called a meeting with the principal.” Shelly shivers as she forces the last of her drink back.

Lizzy slaps her leg over her black skinny jeans and tilts her head back to laugh. “I’d give anything to have seen his face when you called him out.” She acknowledges an older man sitting at the bar, raising his hand for another. “I’ll be back.” She winks and slides down the long bar to crack open another beer for him.

“Thanks. Thanks a lot,” I say. Leave it to Shelly to avoid telling me Lizzy, Mr. O’Donnell’s sister, works here. He’s annoying, but his sister doesn’t seem that bad, and she’s working at a bar, which means she isn’t a rich snob like him. Still, I find myself watching her and scanning the pub for him.

Shelly shrugs. “No problem.”

I take a sip of my club soda, and the bubbles tickle my tongue while Shelly tells me all about her online dating life. She goes into detail about all her recent matches and then shares the pro and con lists for two of the guys she’s been on dates with. There’s something about watching Shelly’s mouth move a mile a minute, never letting me get a word in edgewise that makes me smile.

No doubt I appreciate her friendship.

Two more drinks in and Shelly is now chatting up the guy who sat down next to her. He almost sat on her coat, but she flung her hand out and he sat on that instead. Cheeks redder than brick, he apologized, and Shelly took that as an invitation to flirt shamelessly with him for the next twenty minutes.

I twirl the red stir stick in my drink back and forth between my thumb and pointer finger trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation taking place next to me. Honestly, the guy seems a bit reserved for Shelly. She dominates the conversation, but he smiles at her, and the way his face lights up makes me believe it’s a genuine one.

With my club soda almost empty, I glance down the bar to gesture Lizzy for a refill when a group of three men enter from the back of the restaurant. They’re standing in an archway I assume leads back to the employees only area, or maybe the restrooms.

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