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“Yeah, this right here is love,” he stated smoothing it down without a hint at humor. “I did this for you and that girl of yours, or did you want everyone to notice me tonight? You do know you’ve run out of time with this open secret of yours, don’t you?” he asked, pouring a large, neat malt whiskey from his favorite rare brand, a bottle he’d obviously brought with him, and downed it in one gulp.
My eyes darted to Bernie and she shrugged. “He’s worried about you.”
Paddy waved the glass in his wife’s direction, as if to say, listen to what she’s saying. It was clear from his posture that this hadn’t been his only drink of the evening. He was well on his way to being drunk.
“The only thing I can advise is that you to go public with Daisy and let the PR team limit the damage,” he said. Blinking slowly, he poured himself another drink before continuing. “We went over this for months. I thought if she took you back and you didn’t manage this, it would blow up in your face. While you’re here with her, that may offer her a little protection, but what happens once you leave again?”
“Don’t you think I haven’t thought about it? Christ, it’s all I’ve thought about since she came to New York. Looking at our itinerary, we’ve got no down time together until February, and I know I need to do something before I head back to the US.”
Our serious discussion was interrupted when I heard the faint rumble of feet stomping and vibrating through the building to an insanely fast tune being played in the distance.
“Let’s just get the night out of the way and have fun—please?” I implored. Paddy chuckled, himself distracted by the music, and immediately got caught up in the tune by slapping his thighs. As a drummer, he could never hear a catchy tune without adding his percussion to the piece.
I couldn’t help but grin because it was so funny how our angsty conversation had taken a turn that way.
“Okay, your call,” he agreed.
“Shall we?” I asked, smiling. I stood and gestured toward the door by way of an invitation to join the others. Bernie stood and flashed me a sloppy half-cut smile and began doing this weird looking jig thing that was a cross between river dance and a drunk female trying to stay on her heels, as she disappeared out of the room.
“Irish Dancing,” Paddy said through a chuckle. “Her ma made her go when she was a kid. I think she’s got much better moves when she’s lying down than when she’s standing up these days,” he offered with a wink, as he too staggered a little when he made it to the door, but missed holding onto the handle.
Thankfully, they had kept the disco lights circling the room, which I guessed had been designed as a thin veil of disguise for Paddy and me. They seemed odd when people were busting their moves on the dancefloor in a fast paced, eightsome reel.
Daisy, Terry and the other bar staff were now operating at full capacity, with eager customers impatiently waving cash and empty glasses in their hands in an attempt to get their attention.
Leading Paddy to a table right at the back of the room, my eyes went wide when I saw Nick sitting there, grinning up at me.
“I love Irish girls,” he called out, his voice barely audible above the band.
Two sweet looking girls sat, one on each knee, his face covered in lipstick, his hand up the short skirt of the girl to his right.”
Leaning over him I spoke into his ear. “Whoa, rock star. That’s not how you behave in a host country.”
“I never asked them to sit here, they put themselves on my knees.”
I glanced to the girls who were obviously enamoured by my nephew, their eyes full of lust. I mouthed, “Condoms,” to him and asked, “Where’s Ryan?”
He shrugged. “Dance floor? Last time I saw him he was dancing with Belle.”
Glancing around the room I saw Daisy’s parents with Belle, Ryan and Catrina over by the door. They were looking for us. I waved and Ryan waved back, he turned to speak to the others and pointed directly toward me.
Once they were all seated around the big round table, and introductions had been done with Bernie and Paddy, Ryan helped me take an order for drinks. Out of habit I grabbed some glasses as we made our way through the dancing crowd and stopped near the hatch to the bar. As if Daisy instinctively knew I was there, she turned to look at me and smiled.
A grin immediately painted my face as I settled the empty glasses onto the bar counter. I took her in for a moment, enjoying her smile before I tilted my head and sighed.
“Right, you said you were done when the band started playing,” I reminded her. “Make up this order and I’ll grab some glasses. When I come back, you’re mine for the rest of the year.”
Daisy glanced at the busy bar scene and gently shook her head.
“But look—”
“I am looking, and I flew all the way here to bring in the New Year with you. I’ve kept my end of the bargain,” I said, nodding at the empties on the counter, “it’s your turn to keep your promise now.”
Nodding, she agreed, “Alright, five minutes and I’m done.” Turning away from her, I weaved my way around the dancers to first three tables by the side of the stage and collected up a dozen glasses. Stacking the pints in one hand and wine glasses by the stems in the other.
“Hey, Barney, I can’t wait for the bells to chime at midnight. Make sure to be close by so as I don’t have to come and find you,” a short redhead called out.
Brazen, she grabbed my ass while my hands were fully laden with fragile glass. I managed to swerve to the side without dropping any of them and quickly ducked out of her way.
