Page 41 of One Night Only
“Fancy a nightcap first?”
The wordnois on the tip of my tongue, but I hesitate.
Annie’s revelation that she’s moving has left me more than a little heartbroken, not to mention horribly aware of my sober state. Above all of that is a feeling I’ve become more and more used to in the past few years. A strong, primitive need to not be alone.
Declan takes my silence as acquiescence and nods his head toward the elevator.
I glance down the hall at my door, knowing what I should do. And knowing what I want to do.
I follow him.
10
No one stops us.
The man at reception barely gives Declan a passing glance as he leads me into a staff corridor. I thought he might ask someone to open the lounge area or maybe we’d leave the hotel altogether, but instead we head to the back of the building, through the gleaming, vast kitchens and into the darkness of the restaurant.
“Have a seat,” he says, his voice too loud for the quiet space and I watch, baffled, as he goes to the bar.
“Are you breaking in?”
He gives me a look as if to sayduhand starts to sort through the shelves.
“What if we get caught?”
“I worked here for years, Sarah. I know what I’m doing.”
I turn back to the empty room, feeling like I’m inThe Shining. I ignore the foreboding armchairs and white-clothed tables and go instead to the French doors that lead out to the patio.
I try the handle without thinking and immediately freeze; convinced I’ve set off some alarm. But there’s nothing. The door opens easily under my hand.
Outside the air is nice, if a little cool. There isn’t a hint of a breeze. I navigate my way carefully around the patio furniture, choosing two garden chairs that are hidden enough that no one will see us if they come looking. Although judging by Declan’s attitude, I don’t think they’ll care even if they do.
“Over here,” I whisper as he comes out. He doesn’t question my seating choice when he spots me. His movements are slow and I soon see why, as he carries an assortment of bottles in his arms. He sets them out carefully on the small table between us, looking pleased with himself.
“When you said a nightcap…” I begin.
“I didn’t know what you like so I got a little bit of everything.” He sits in the other chair and holds up a bottle of whiskey. “A local delicacy.” He sets out two glasses and pours a small measure into each.
“Sláinte,” he says, handing me one.
I peer into the liquid as he settles back into the chair.
“Not thirsty?” he asks when I only look at it. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for everything. I know Tommy at the desk.”
“Whiskey and I have never really gotten along.”
“You just need to spend more time together. Do you know what we call it in Irish?Uisce beatha.Water of life.”
“Of course you do.” I give it a hesitant sniff but, aware that Declan is watching my every move, decide to risk it.
I take a decent sip and immediately cough it back up as it burns my entire mouth. Declan laughs.
“I got you something else just in case,” he says and passes me a bottle of beer.
I take a swig to wash out the taste. “I’m pretty sure I spit into that,” I say as he tips the rest of my glass into his.
“I don’t mind a little spit.” He pauses. “That came out wrong.”
