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Iris turned as Morgan returned with another painting in her arms and carefully hung it in the empty space on the wall. This painting was of the harbor at moonlight, the pale light reflecting off the water and a few colorful fishing boats tucked in for the night. It was equally as beautiful, skill-wise, but didn’t carry the emotional punch of the last painting.
“She’s quite talented.”
“You can meet her tomorrow when you come pick up your painting. I’ll just take down your information?” Morgan held up a pad of paper. Iris hesitated and then wrote her information. She left Moon out of her name, only writing it as Iris Dillon.
“Dillon?” Morgan asked, tapping a finger against her lips, and Iris stilled, waiting for the woman to recognize her. “Are you Irish, then? There are a few with that surname in the village.”
“Are there really?” Iris let out a small sigh of relief. Nothing to do with tabloid stories and merely an Irish woman being friendly. “Not that I know of, but you never know. Us Americans tend to be mutts.”
“Yes, you do at that,” Morgan murmured and then brightened. “Enjoy Gallagher’s Pub. Tell Cait to put a pint on our tab for you. It’s the least we can do after such a lovely purchase you’ve made.”
“Oh, you don’t have to…” Iris protested as Morgan ushered her to the door, seeming to be in a hurry now.
“I insist. Just ask for Cait. Tell her Morgan sent you, and she’ll set you up nicely. Have a lovely evening, Iris. We’ll be seeing you in the morning, then.”
With that, Morgan closed the door neatly, and Iris found herself amused at the woman’s brisk closure. She couldn’t fault Morgan. Iris often found herself in the position of having a client desperate to continue speaking with her, and she’d had to wrap things up succinctly a time or two herself.
Feeling proud of herself for making her first real adult splurge, Iris hummed her way up to Gallagher’s Pub and swung through the cheerful front door.
It wasn’t until her eyes landed on Kane’s smiling face that she realized she’d completely forgotten about the man who’d asked her to dinner that night.
Chapter 6
Kane caught Iris’s look of surprise and then resignation when her gaze landed on him. He bit back a smile and shifted at the table, making a show of clearing space for her. Not that he’d force the woman to have dinner with him, but he hoped she’d join him. He’d enjoyed their conversation earlier that day, and she’d managed to stick in his head since. Now, he wanted to peel back the layers and see if he could figure out what she was running from. Perhaps it wasn’t his greatest character trait, this endless curiosity that made him want to pull the string and unravel the sweater. Nevertheless, he let out a small sigh of relief when she crossed to his table.
“I thought you weren’t joining me for a pint?” Kane asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Iris looked good, he thought, refreshed from her flight and casually cool in black leather and her purple boots again.
“I forgot you would be here,” Iris answered honestly, causing Kane to throw his head back and laugh. She winced, and then pulled her leather jacket off before taking the chair he slid out for her. “And that makes me sound like a jerk.”
“As much as it wounds my soul that I wasn’t the first person on your mind after you landed in a foreign country, I’ll forgive the insult. Though I do pride myself on being memorable.” Kane brought his fingers to his chin, pretending to stroke his nonexistent beard, and pursed his lips.
“Ah yes, very distinguished you are. I can’t believe you slipped my mind, even for a moment,” Iris said. But his joking worked, and some of the tension lines in her forehead eased as she settled back into her chair and scanned the room. “This is a nice place. Quite the quintessential Irish pub, isn’t it? If I was making a movie, this would be the set I’d want to use.”
It was an opening for Kane to talk about his work, and he paused for a moment, wondering how much he would share with this woman. His Rock Rebels series was hugely popular, which was why he wrote it under a partial pseudonym. He also realized that if he wanted to learn anything more about Iris, he’d have to be the first to open up. He’d quickly learned that on the drive down to Grace’s Cove. While she was a great conversationalist, she was an expert at deflecting personal inquiries. To the point that he wondered if she had to do so a lot in her work, or if it was merely because the ex-boyfriend had really done a number on her.
“Is that right? Tell me what you see,” Kane ordered, and Iris’s moody eyes danced to his.
“Why?” Iris asked and, again, Kane appreciated her directness.
“I’m a screenwriter.” Kane fudged a bit. “I like to learn how other people view the world. You may see something differently than I do.”
Interest lit in Iris’s face, and she turned once more, taking a more leisurely assessment of the pub.
“Well, in general, I see a well-functioning pub. It’s an art, isn’t it, to have a place be this busy but not make the clientele feel stressed or unwelcomed. See how it moves? The servers, the bartenders…it’s like a dance, really.” Iris pursed her lips as she studied the pub, and Kane caught himself staring at her lush lips. “She’s the conductor.”
Kane pulled his focus away from Iris’s face to where a small woman with close-cropped hair and boundless energy pulled a pint while taking an order from a patron. Sliding the pint across the bar, she ducked under the pass-through and stuck her head into the kitchen before turning their way.
“Incoming,” Kane said and smiled as the woman breezed to a stop in front of their table.
“Another pint for you?” the woman asked before narrowing her eyes at Iris. She paused for a moment, something flashing in her eyes, and Kane wondered what she saw in Iris. “Welcome to Gallagher’s. What’s your fancy this evening?”
“I’m under strict orders to tell you to put a pint on Morgan’s tab as I’m purchasing a painting,” Iris said.
“Well, that’s lovely isn’t it then? Aislinn does stunning work, she does. I’ll be happy to get you a pint. Anything you fancy?”
“Actually, a glass of wine would be nice. A red?”
“I’ve a lovely cabernet?”
