Page 22 of Charlie
“I thought you said that you worked for an NGO. Are they fine with you staying away for weeks?”
“We made an arrangement before I left. I can work remotely.”
“Good for you.”
She pushed her plate toward me. “You want some pizza?” Three of the six slices were left and I took one.
“How long have you been here?” she asked.
“About five months.”
“And have you done all the touristy things?”
“I’ve been to Temple Bar, the factory where they brew Guinness beer, and a few whiskey distilleries. I rented a car and drove around to meet the few family members I have on my mother’s side, but that’s about it. The rest of the time, I’ve been working and getting to know people here.”
She pulled a few brochures out of her handbag. “There’s this day trip to the cliffs of Moher that I’d love to go on. There’s a stop in a medieval town and at an old abbey that’s now a ruin. Wanna come?”
“I would have thought you’d go for a full day tour of Irish castles.”
She looked up from the brochure. “Oh, that sounds fun. We could do that too if you want.”
The thought of spending hours in Liv’s company was tempting. “You really want me to come?”
“A hundred percent.”
I studied the brochure when she handed it to me. “I’ve been to Galway, the medieval town you mentioned. It’s a cool place.”
“We could go tomorrow if you want.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday. I have a meeting.” My head was spinning to find a way to go with her.
Her face fell. “You have a meeting on the weekends?”
“In the mastermind group. It’s very informal and social, so I guess I could be a bit late. How long is the tour?”
“Fourteen hours.”
I turned the brochure around. “Departure is at 6:45 in the morning. That’s early!”
“But I’ll bet it’ll be fun, and if you’re sleepy I’ll let you drool on my shoulder.” Liv gave me her brightest smile. “Please, Charles, you’re my only friend in Ireland.”
That did it. There was no way I could resist her. “All right. I’ll go with you to the cliffs of Moher, on one condition.”
Her eyes were wide and her smile still bright as I had her full attention.
“You’ll tell me your fetish right now or I won’t get a minute of sleep, just thinking about it.”
“No. I want you to come tomorrow.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is your fetish so disgusting that I wouldn’t want to sit next to you on a bus?”
“Depends how you feel about it. You may never be able to look at me the same again.”
“It’s urine sex, isn’t it?” I grinned.
“No.”
“Is it worse? Don’t tell me you like to play with excrement, is that it?”
