Page 43 of An Irish Summer

I laughed, remembering the day last week I’d been too lazy and asked her to help. She’d had a pixie cut for years, and the whole scene was apparently traumatizing.

“I’ve learned my lesson,” I said. “Besides, this favor is a better one, anyway.”

“I’m listening.”

I gave her the pitch, leaving out the part that I secretly hoped she might agree to do it more regularly. I had no intention of doing any extra work today, but once the ball got rolling it was hard to stop myself.

She leaned her hip against the counter, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s in it for me?”

I knew this was coming. “Uh,” I said, “the sheer glory of helping a lovely couple have a long and happy life together in their new home?”

“And it’s just this once?”

“Sure,” I said, but it came out as more of a question.

“Chelsea!”

“Come on, Flo! Don’t you think it would be cool to share your talents with our guests?”

“I do share my talents with our guests,” she said, gesturing to the sandwiches.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “It wouldn’t be all the time. Maybe once or twice a month at most. I could even help you do some prep stuff so you had more time for the class. I’m sure Lori would let you do it on the nights you were already working if you had some extra hands in here.”

Volunteering myself for more kitchen duties wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but again, I wasn’t always sure what came over me when I started planning events.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Flo said. “And this is the only class I’m doing outside of regularly scheduled working hours. I mean it, Chels. But if you can get Lori on board for the others and you help me out in here, then you have yourself a deal.”

I threw my arms around her neck, pulling her into a tight hug. She uncrossed her arms to hug me back, and we laughed at ourselves.

“Thank you, Flo,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, swatting my legs with a dish towel. “Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

“Si, signora.”

I settled back into my place behind the desk and opened my email, firing yet another message to Lori about starting an event.

And, in true Lori fashion, she approved it almost instantly and with enthusiasm bordering on aggression. We didn’t see much of her physically on the grounds at the Wanderer, but I had a sense she was never more than a minute from the action.

By the time Grant and Liam returned for drinks, I had already slotted more than a handful of regular classes into the summer calendar and brainstormed a menu with Flo for their date night.

“How was your day out in the city?” I asked them as we pulled stools up to the bar. Fortunately, Collin wasn’t working tonight, so I could focus on Grant and Liam.

“Brilliant,” Grant said, smiling even wider than he’d been that morning. “Galway is really something. Which I’m sure you know, since you live here.”

“You must love getting out and exploring the city,” Liam said while Grant ordered the three of us gin and tonics.

“We’re trying to get her out there,” Flo said, kissing my cheek as she joined us. “It’s like pulling teeth sometimes, but we’re working on it. I’m Flo.” She extended her hand, shaking with both Liam and Grant, respectively.

I had known I wasn’t getting out into the city enough, but I figured Collin would just keep dragging me out until I’d seen the entire country if he had it his way. But now my body buzzed with a mix of guilt and apprehension, suddenly afraid of leaving Ireland with no real stories to tell. I sipped my drink in an attempt to calm down.

“We can’t thank you enough for taking the time to teach us to cook,” Grant said. “Especially your traditional recipes.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Flo said.

“You say that now, but only because you haven’t seen this one in the kitchen yet,” Grant said through the corner of his mouth, jerking his thumb toward Liam.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll change my mind about the whole thing,” Liam said. “You included.”

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