Page 75 of An Irish Summer

And to tap into the root of those feelings, I was surprised to find myself thinking about my time at the Wanderer.

In the following days, I kept an eye on my email for responses to my applications. Two eventually rolled in: one informing me the position had been filled internally, the other requesting an interview. I replied, requesting a virtual interview and praying it would go better than the last one. When they accepted and I began my preparations, I vowed to spin my move to Ireland in a more positive direction.

It was a calculated career choice made to diversify my résumé and gain global hospitality experience. It was a way tobroaden my skill set and apply to a wider range of positions and clientele. A privilege that allowed me an opportunity to be creative, innovative, and thoughtful in my work. That sounded good. Professional, reasonable.

True.

I was reviewing my notes the evening before our scheduled interview when Collin appeared in my doorway. We left our doors propped open sometimes, but this custom always seemed to come back to bite me. Especially when I was trying to be productive.

“Fancy a drink?”

I spun my tiny desk chair to face him, trying to keep my composure at the sight of his damp hair pushed behind his ears.

“I have to—”

“You can’t say no,” he said, stepping into my room. “It’s part of your Irish education.”

“I forgot that only happens on your schedule,” I said.

“I’m going to ignore your sarcasm for once, but only for the sake of a lesson in spontaneity. And the Temple Bar.”

My laugh was involuntary. “Sorry, you’re saying this casual drink is inDublin?”

“Would I lie?”

I narrowed my eyes, realizing I had no idea how to answer that question.

“Besides, I never said it was casual. And Flo already said yes,” he added as leverage.

“Of course Flo said yes,” I said. “Flo says yes to everything.”

“Might not hurt you to do the same.” His grin alone was almost enough to make me change my mind, which was exactly why I had to stand my ground.

“You haven’t given me much of a choice thus far, have you?”

“Nope, and I don’t intend on giving you one tonight, either.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, you don’t actually make all the rules. I’m sorry, but I can’t go.” I found myself genuinely disappointed. “I need to stay in and prepare for my interview.”

“Interview?”

“Tomorrow at two with a high-end tourism organization in Boston. I’d actually like this one to go well, so I need to make sure I’m on my game.”

“Still cracking on with that, are ya?” Collin walked over and sat on the edge of my desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“With getting back to my life? Yeah, I am still cracking on with that.” I chuckled, though as soon as the words left my lips I realized nothing about them was funny. Nothing about the interview was making me smile at all, if I was honest.

“Temple Bar will change your mind,” he said, nudging my leg with his foot.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not going to Temple Bar.”

“Chels,” Collin said, getting off my desk and kneeling in front of me, taking my hands in his. It took everything in me not to pull away and hide from his gaze. I needed to stand my ground, and he was making it nearly impossible. “When else are you going to have the chance to drive across Ireland and drink in one of the most iconic bars in the world? With a proper Irishman to show you the way, no less.” His lips curled into a smile on one side when he said this last part, and I was reminded how they felt against my own.

“I’m sure you’ll find some other time for us to do exactly that,” I said in a last-ditch effort to stand my ground, though my resolve was slipping through my fingers at warp speed.

“Nope,” he said, getting back to his feet. “It’s now or never.One of our guests has an uncle who owns a hostel near the bar, and they’re holding a few beds for us for the night. They’re fully booked for the rest of the summer.”

Shit.

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