Page 35 of Edge of Whispers

“Actually, he invited me to a seisiún in Queens tomorrow night, so he’s some sort of musician,” I said. “Although I have no idea at what level. Or even what instrument.”

“Invited you? To a seisiún?” Nell’s voice rose to a squeak.

I squirmed. “Not a date. Just a seisiún. A couple of pints in a grotty Irish bar, and Irish tunes until our eyes cross. A date is a much bigger deal than that.”

“Yeah, like you’re such an expert,” Vivi said. “What bar?”

I stared from one to the other. “Don’t you dare.”

“What bar?” both of my sisters demanded in unison.

“I’m not telling,” I said. “So just forget it.”

“Fine,” Vivi said. “I’ll go through other channels. I’ll call ... let’s see ... Eugene. We’ll tell him you have a hot date tomorrow night, and ask him for a list of the seisiúns tomorrow in Queens. Then Nell and I will make the rounds until we get lucky.”

“Vivi,” I said. “Don’t.”

“And then we will roast you so hard, babe. We will have no mercy. None.”

My face had gotten hot. “Don’t tell Eugene,” I said. “He’s a terrible gossip. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“So give it up,” Vivi said, her face relentless. “The seisiún. Let’s have it.”

I gritted my teeth. “Malloy’s,” I admitted. “Ten to two. I haven’t decided yet whether or not I’m going.”

“Oh?” Nell’s dark eyes were innocently wide. “Six two, green eyes, perfectly proportional ass? You are so going to that seisiún.”

“Whether or not, it’s my business,” I said. “We’ll see how you like it when I descend onto one of your dates and try to embarrass you.”

Nell’s face tightened. “Like that’ll happen in this century.”

Something in Nell’s voice gave us pause. Vivi hoisted herself up onto her elbow.

“Why not?” she asked. “Why shouldn’t it happen? You’re gorgeous, smart, funny, sweet, creative, amazing. You’re a prize. A total pearl. What’s not to date?”

Nell shrugged. “I think I’m just one of those women who crushes on unattainable men. You know. Protecting myself by making sure I never have to deal with a real relationship, blah, blah.”

“Who?” I demanded. “Who’s unattainable? Why is he unattainable?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Nell looked intensely uncomfortable. “You don’t know him, and you won’t meet him. Ever. It’s just a pointless thing happening inside my own head.”

“Is he married?” Vivi demanded.

“No!” Nell snapped. “I mean … that is to say … I haven’t the faintest idea. He doesn’t talk to me. But he doesn’t wear any ring, so I guess probably he … oh, hell. Never mind. It couldn’t be more irrelevant. It’s just absolutely not, you know … thing.”

But the damage was done, and we had to know more. “Who is he?”

Nell threw up her hands with a frustrated huff. “No one! Just a random guy who comes into the Sunset Grill for lunch. That’s all. I have a monster crush on a guy I serve lunch to. Believe me, it’s exactly as stupid and pathetic as it sounds.”

“Did you write your number on the check?” Vivi asked. “Do you flirt? Look through your eyelashes? Bring him extra garlic breadsticks?”

Nell rolled her eyes. “If I’d ever established eye contact, that ploy might make sense. But he’s never even looked at me. And I mean that literally. He just looks at his laptop. A screen full of code. If he saw me on the street, he wouldn’t recognize me.”

Vivi clapped a hand over her face. “A techie? God help you.”

Nell looked so miserable, I took pity on her and tried to deflect. “How about you, Viv?” I demanded. “Romantic prospects?”

Vivi rolled her eyes. “Nope. I’m making celibacy into a high art.”

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