Page 153 of Fifth Avenue Fling

I turn to Marek. “This plot of land has been in conflict for a few years now. What were the local folks hoping to get built here?”

“A sports center for the kids and a community center. There’s nowhere for them to play sports around here cheaply. Everything costs an arm and a leg these days, huh?”

I’m silent.

“I’ve made peace with what’s happening. Seeing my son fail to control his anger was an awakening of sorts. Perhaps he isn’t ready to take over after all.” He pauses. “Can we call a truce, Killian?”

I nod. “A truce sounds like a plan.”

“Now, will you do me the honor of showing you some authentic Polish cuisine?”

I look over at the site. I’m due to meet the foremen soon. “Sure. I have twenty minutes.”

I watch people come and go as I eat a delicious stew that I can’t remember the name of. Who’d have thought shredded cabbage could be so good.

There’s a connection with the people who come into the restaurant. Marek knows everyone who walks in, or they know each other.

I fold up my napkin and leave the cash on the table while he’s busy entertaining another customer.

He glances at me, his eyes warm and kind, and I put my hand up in thanks.

“Goodbye, Alfred. You’ll get your community center.”

My words go unheard as I leave. It’s for the best since I don’t want to see his reaction. Best not to mix emotions with business.

***

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” Connor says.

I glance up at him strolling toward the grave. I knew he was here; I saw him park his car in the chapel lot.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I ask him.

“Harlow? She’d have never placed the blame on you, Killian. The guy was breaking into houses for years. There’s nothing to forgive.” He sighs. “But I’m wasting my breath telling you this again.”

“Are you here to lecture me about the casino?” I ask in a hollow voice, staring at Harlow’s headstone.

“No, that’s JP’s job, not mine. I’m here because you look like you live in a cave. You haven’t shaved in weeks, and the last time you looked like this was after Harlow died.”

“My looks aren’t the priority right now.”

We remain silent for a moment, pretending to pray because Mom drilled into us that’s what you do at a grave.

Connor interrupts the quiet. “I was at The Auld Dog last night, the pub Clodagh worked in.”

“What for?”

“Just stopping by.”Bullshit. “She’s moving to London. Starting a whole new life there.”

I stay silent, letting his words sink in.

I imagine Clodagh in London creating a new bucket list. Meeting new friends. Meeting new guys.

I’m not sure why the news doesn’t sit right with me. Whether she’s in Ireland or England makes no difference. I have no claim to her and can’t stop her from moving on with her life.

The main thing is that she’s happy and safe.

“I figured she’d stay in Ireland,” I finally say.

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