Page 77 of Edge of Whispers

“I’ll stay,” he said.

I let out my breath in a sigh of relief. So this wasn’t the wall. Not quite. We’d gotten a reprieve. I pulled my key card out of my pocket and handed it to him. “Here. Get another one made at the front desk and get yourself settled. Mandrake plays in about an hour. Same hall as Peter and Enid’s showcase. See you there.” I opened the door and turned to him. “Liam?”

“Yes?” His voice was wary.

I searched for words to express the yearning in my chest. The hope. How I was so glad to see him, how much I missed him, wanted him. Maybe even loved him.

“Nothing,” I whispered as I slipped through the door.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Liam

I strode down the corridor, my mouth sour with self-disgust.

Being rude to her ex had been bad enough, but spouting preachy crap to Nancy was even worse. Telling her how to conduct her business. Like I had the right.

Damn. I mouthed the word as I stabbed the elevator button. A blue-haired old lady gave me a nervous look and a wide berth. Good instincts. I was an animal tonight. Totally lacking in social skills.

If I could get through the conference without any fuckups or fistfights, I would be rewarded by four days of solitude with Nancy. The elevator pinged. Almost time for the Mandrake showcase. I headed toward the hall.

“Hey, Liam!”

I turned to see Eoin leaning against the wall, freckles standing out in sharp relief in his pale face. I clasped his hand, which was ice cold. “Nancy told me you would be playing. I’ve been looking forward to it. How’s it going?”

Eoin shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve only rehearsed three times.”

I slapped him on the back. “You’ll be great. You’re amazing. Don’t worry.”

Eugene and a tall, skinny black guy came charging down the hall, looking excited and self-important. “Come on, man, let’s do it!” Eugene said to Eoin as they surrounded him and bore him swiftly away.

“Break a leg!” I called. Eoin shot a final desperate glance over his shoulder. I gave the kid a thumbs-up.

I went into the crowded hall. No chairs left. Nancy was on the other side of the room, talking to Matt, the big redhead that I’d met at the seisiún at Malloy’s.

She turned, saw me, and gave me a tentative smile.

I smiled back. Her smile became brilliant. God, she was fine, dressed up in one of her sleek, fitted black outfits, hair pulled into a braided bun, earrings dangling to her jaw. She made every other woman in the room look commonplace. That airhead Enid looked insipid in comparison.

The lights dimmed. Mandrake came onstage to tremendous applause. The lanky black guy laid down a complex, primal rhythm, and Eoin promptly launched into a fiery Irish reel, followed by Matt and Eugene on the guitar and fiddle, and finally a scrawny blond girl who played an endless variety of wind instruments.

They were excellent. I applauded after each piece till my hands stung. The pulsing energy of the music soothed something raw and savage inside me. I was fiercely glad that Eoin had fallen in with this group. They would keep him happy and busy until he found his feet in this country.

After the set finished, I pushed my way through the crush and gave Eoin a quick, hard embrace.

“Great job,” I said. “You kicked ass. No surprise.”

Eoin grinned. “Thanks,” was all he had time to say before he was surrounded by chattering, congratulating people.

Something poked me in the back, and I looked around to find Nancy smiling at me. “Weren’t they fine?”

“Excellent.” I swept her into my arms. “I’m sorry I was a dick,” I whispered.

I offered up a prayer of gratitude as her body softened, went pliant in my arms. I’d gotten through the crisis. This wasn’t the wall. There was still time, still grace.

My arms tightened hungrily around her. “Do you have more to do tonight?”

She looked up at me seductively through her eyelashes. “Theoretically, I could network for hours. But I don’t have any actual appointments until tomorrow.”

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