Page 8 of Trusting You
“And by owner, you mean Liam Quinn?”
“Yes.” I busied myself folding so Nora wouldn’t see me blush.
“Huh,” Nora said skeptically. “That’s so interesting. And he is in need of a seasoned marketing professional like yourself?”
I looked up and felt the blush creep across my face and neck. “Yes. It’s definitely a new challenge.”
She tapped on the table. “And did you happen to notice during your very professional job interview that Liam Quinn is stupidly handsome?”
I knew where this was going. Nora was relentless.
“I may have noticed. But it’s not a big deal.”
Nora laughed out loud. “Okay, sweetie, keep telling yourself that. We all know he is a Grade A mountain man hottie.”
She wasn’t wrong about that. I had a brief flashback to this morning and had to fight the urge to fan myself.
“It’s fine. I’m just giving it a try to help out while I’m here. It’s just temporary.”
“That’s what they all say,” she mused as she headed into the fitting room.
She came out a few minutes later with stacks of merchandise to put away. I joined her at the large table and we started folding and sorting.
“I have a ton of work to catch up on, but let’s go to the Whale on Thursday. First Moscow Mule is on me. I need to hear more about your new job.” The Tipsy Whale was a Havenport institution, a dive bar that had opened in the seventies for fishermen and evolved over time to be the preferred hangout of Havenport locals.
“Ugh, fine, you can drag me out tomorrow. My mom is making me do yoga tonight. But since when does the Whale serve Moscow Mules? We’re usually lucky to get Fran to open a bottle of wine for us.”
“Oh girl, you are in for a treat. Ever since Christian invested in the bar, he got Fran to spruce the place up and start making specialty cocktails.”
“Of course he did.” Christian, one of Nora’s five older brothers, made his fortune on Wall Street in his twenties trading bonds and then moved back home. He had invested in local businesses with his husband Dante, and they had been responsible for the revitalization of several local establishments.
“It’ll be fun to get dolled up and have a night out. Actually, wait. Let me get you some jeans.”
“No. I can’t afford anything new right now.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. I just got this new line in, and I need to see them on someone with hips.”
“Wow, thanks,” I said sarcastically.
She swatted me with her hand. “It’s a compliment. You have an incredible body—deal with it. You need to stop selling yourself short and realize what a brilliant, beautiful warrior you are. Who knows, you might find a new guy while you’re here!”
She placed the folded jeans in my hands and patted me on the head like a dog. “These will make your booty look incredible. Now, be a good girl and try them on before I pants you in my store.”
6
Liam
“How many beershave you had? You should slow down. You are already on the fast track to a dad bod.”
It was only my third round, which for a beer professional, was nothing. And after the week I was having, which included that difficult call with Callum, my older brother and financial advisor, and a meeting with the bank, I needed about twenty more. I gave Callum a withering stare and flipped him the bird. He shrugged his broad, dress shirt-clad shoulders and gave me a pitying look.
My other brother Declan jumped to my defense. “Leave him alone, Fabio, we are not all as vain as you.” I gave Dec a head tip for the defense. Back in college, Callum did some local modeling jobs around Boston to help pay for school. Catalogs and that type of thing. We have never let him live it down, hence his family nickname. It is important to take him down a peg now and again.
Callum immediately clapped back at Declan. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. The live animal on your face muffles the sound of your voice.”
Declan took a long sip of his beer and then stroked his scruffy beard slowly. “What are you still doing here anyway, Cal? Don’t you have to go home and iron your polo shirts?”
I drained the last of my beer and plunked my stein on the top of the bar, feeling energized enough to join in. “Nah, Dec. He’s got to be up early for a regatta.” We high-fived, and I moved behind the bar for refills.
