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In the past, most other women I’d known, even if we went out for casual drinks or a meal, had been quick to spread their connection to me. Daisy didn't even use my name in phone calls, only ever referring to me with the nickname she’d given me, Barney. Had I known that would have happened I’d have insisted on a much cooler nickname for the front man of DistRoyed.
A whole hour passed without her calling me back, and I wondered if Terry had even given Daisy my message. Deciding there was a distinct possibility he’d forgotten; I rang the landline number for the bar.
“Hey, Daisy, it’s Barney for you” Terry shouted out, not a hint he’d passed on my message and sounding as if we hadn’t spoken previously.
“Finish stacking those bottles would you,” I heard her say to someone, probably Terry, as her footsteps grew louder as she neared the phone.
“Hey,” she said, a little breathless.
“Hi, baby, I called you earlier. Didn’t Terry tell you?”
“No, but to be honest we’ve been rushed off our feet. We had an unexpected bus party of old sailors drop in at lunchtime. It’s pelting with rain here, so they took cover in my bar,” she replied. “Oh, boy can they drink,” she chuckled.
“Bad time?” I asked, managing to sound sensitive to her needs and hide how pissed I felt that a bus party of tourists had cut into my time on the phone with her.
“No, it’s calmed down now. They left a few minutes ago. I was just replenishing the coolers before the evening shift.”
“Good, apart from being busy, how are you doing beautiful?” I asked, raising my voice over the sudden background noise of my band members arriving for rehearsals and the instant twanging of strings our lead guitarist, Oscar, made as he tuned up his guitar.
“It’s been heaving with people here all day and we’ve got a function on tonight. The rain has brought all the Christmas shoppers in as well. I’ve got three bartenders on and it's not enough. Plus, as soon as I get a chance, I’ve got to brave the cellar again because a couple of the barrels have just gone off.”
“So, now's not a good time to talk,” I asked, disappointed.
“As much as I love you, no, it’s not. This is like me ringing you up to have phone sex while you’re doing an encore in front of ten thousand fans. Can we do this after closing?” she said, softening her stern reply.
I half chuckled; half scoffed because of how much I’d been looking forward to talking with her.
“Of course,” I said, my frustration almost choking me while I tried to sound empathetic toward her situation. My chest tightened and I immediately hated that our jobs dictated how much I could see her and that we lived so far apart.
“Great, I knew you’d understand. Ring me after closing at 1:00 a.m., but don't be late as I will probably fall asleep, I’m straight up knackered.” Daisy hung up on me without another word.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I chucked my phone on the small wooden shelf in the rehearsal room. Taking my wallet and car keys out of my jacket pockets, I placed them beside it, shrugged out of my jacket and wandered over to my bandmates.
“Trouble in paradise?” Paddy asked, raising a brow.
“Right, hit me with something fast and heavy, I’m in that kind of a mood.” I told him, ignoring his jibe. Paddy immediately gave me a fast and furious round of percussion on his drum set.
“Damn, sounds like Jamie needs to reacquaint his cock with his hand. Frustrated, are we?” he asked, with a lazy smirk on his face.
“A few weeks in Dublin is what I need,” I replied. “Two more days and all will be right in my world. Meanwhile, let’s get some practice in,” I said, considering if Daisy was to become a permanent fixture in my life. There had to be a way to get her out of working so hard, with such long hours.
The rest of the day dragged as I rehearsed with one eye on the clock while my mind struggled to engage fully with my band. Eventually the guys called it time and I headed back to Catrina’s place with a bottle of Scotch. After ordering take out Chinese from an app on my phone, I counted the hours until it was time to call Daisy back.
Chapter 2
“Wow, are you telepathic or do you have one of those tiny micro spy cameras hidden inside this room? I’ve only just locked the doors after the last punters left, and my cell rang the moment I set foot on the stairs,” Daisy said when she answered.
“Damn, now why didn’t I think of that the last time I was there?” I asked in reference to the camera. “No, you said don’t be late and I always come on time where you’re concerned,” I said, chuckling because she could take that both ways.
“True,” she agreed, chuckling back and I figured she’d gotten the double entendre.
“I miss you so much. I can't wait to see you.”
“Ditto, Mr Hottie. When will you get here?” she asked.
“Probably not until the morning of the twenty fourth.”
“Christmas Eve? That's cutting it fine, with flight delays, cancellations and bad weather on your side.”
