Page 24 of A Second Chance Summer in Dublin

I stand up. ‘Donal, I—’ He unfolds his tall frame to stand, too. He moves behind my seat and helps move my chair further back.

‘Grace, I understand. I know you aren’t over Logan. I saw that moment you had there when I mentioned a second date .?.?. Well, although I’m no Romeo, I’ve had my heart broken, too. Shattered, actually. It took me a long time to get over my ex – I mean, I’m there now but it took a hot minute.’ He pulls his ancient wallet from his back pocket, tears open the Velcro and drops his credit card onto the little tray. I’m struck by the vintage nature of it.

‘I’m so sorry.’ My voice is small but I don’t lie to him.

‘I get it. I really do. Can I call you a cab on my app or walk you to a rank or just .?.?.?’

Olivia returns with the credit card machine, Donal keys in his four-digit pin, his hair masking his face as he thanks her and tells her he prefers to tip cash, folding a twenty euro note into her hand.

Olivia beams at him. ‘Ach, nice one!’

‘It’s okay, thank you, though.’

Throwing the thin strap of my bag over my shoulder, it falls and Donal attempts to help me retrieve it. I struggle to get it to stay, our fingers touch, it’s strangely and unexpectedly electric. He snaps his hand away. We are beyond awkward now.

‘Well, thanks so much for dinner,’ I tell him quickly, my eyes looking at my slouchy boots before I look back up.

‘Not at all. My pleasure.’ He stuffs his hands into the small pockets of his grey hoodie, his elbows pointing to the roof. ‘If .?.?. well .?.?. you know where to find me; well at least Rebecca does.’ He pulls his hands out, zips up the hoodie and then swipes his oxblood boot along the vinyl flooring.

‘Yeah, I do.’ I cast my eye to the door, then smile up at him, but with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

He extends his hand towards the door. ‘You’re really great, Grace.’ He smiles at me. ‘Really something .?.?. Don’t give up on your bridal-design business, keep at it, yeah? You can do it. I know you can.’

‘I will.’ There is a knot in my throat and I don’t know why.

‘I’ll just wait for Olivia to come back with the wings, take care,’ he tells me, and I turn and walk out of the restaurant trying to swallow this emotion.

*

Outside, I pick up the pace. The night air is sticky and humid in Temple Bar, thick with the smell of vinegary chipper chips, the lingering aroma of kebabs and stale beer. The pavements are heaving with tourists. The iconic opening guitar-riff of ‘Whiskey in the Jar’ rings out from The Quays bar as I clutch my bag strap tight. I weave in and out through the heaving crowds and keepmy head down. A lovers’ quarrel gains traction. Although I love living in town, I’m not a fan of walking through it alone at night.

I’ve an ache in the pit of my stomach and feel like bursting into tears. I was really enjoying myself with Donal and it was completely unexpected. God, I really hope I didn’t hurt his feelings. I stride on towards 18 Old Camden Street, still thinking about him. Donal is great. Brilliant company, a fantastic, attentive listener; funny, charming, smart, full of personality and so emotionally aware. But he’d read me like a book. I put my earbuds in and click into myWalking Down the Aisleplaylist, the soft rhythm of ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ kicks in and, as I head up South Great Georges Street, the lyrics make me pine for Donal.

‘Stop being an idiot,’ I hiss under my breath. ‘Logan is still the love of your life and you just need him back.’

Chapter Thirteen

I hear the thunderous noise of the DART trundling down the tracks at Tara Street station towards me. Sweating commuters jostle on the platform as it slows, then stops. The doors part with a hiss and I step on. I’d tossed and turned all night, the humidity in my flat relentless. Despite my best efforts to open it, my window is still stuck shut, so no air is possible. I’d such vivid dreams, about my reunion with Logan and my dinner with Donal, where I’d been unable to speak as my words would not come out. Logan was carrying a newborn baby, telling me the baby was mine, and Donal had been there, too, telling me not to believe him, that he was a liar. I’d woken with a jolt.

I find a seat by the window and lean my head against the hot glass of the train and close my tired eyes. I know I don’t really know Donal at all, but somehow he’s so familiar and I just know he never puts himself first, not like Logan.

*

‘Who said you can’t do other work onMacbethwhile you are an intern atFerguson Brophy?’ Logan asked, pouting as we stood on either side of the black drapes on the stage. He was half dressed in just leather chaps over jeans, like some sort of gladiator god.

‘They both said they don’t encourage it. Listen to what I’msaying!’ I repeated, recounting the meeting I’d just had in the stylish offices ofFerguson Brophy Bridal Designson Suffolk Street, where I’d been interning for three glorious, illustrious months with Marian and Patricia.

‘The thing is, Grace,’ Marian had said, ‘ideally we want someone who can focus solely on Reign & Shine, our upcoming bridal collection. We’re looking for someone to join our brand who is fully committed to working on our designs.’ Stunning in her shoulder-padded block pink and purple trouser suit, she’d smiled at me from across the lengthy glass desk.

‘I get that,’ I’d said, mortified that they were having to give me this warning.

‘In laymen’s terms, we need a designer who eats, breathes and sleeps what we do. Simple as,’ Patricia had piped up. ‘Not ideal, but that’s the fashion industry for you.’

‘I do want to commit fully to you guys. I do eat and breathe your collection, Reign & Shine is UNREAL!’ I’d enthused, standing there in my sailor hat and vintage denim catsuit. I’d glanced to their ‘look book’ on the whiteboard, displayed across the four walls of their blue-walled office. The most incredible bridal designs; so innovative, so inspiring, so unique.

‘Obviously, your goal is to set up your own business, and we are here to assist with that in the long term. We knew as soon as we saw both of your Cinderella dresses at your showcase, you will fit in here perfectly as part of the team. That pre-ball gold dress was ethereal.’

‘Thank you so much,’ I’d beamed.