“I knew this plan would suck.”
I almost yell, I’m so frustrated. “What’s more important to you, Erin? A piece of ass or your bar?!”
She wrinkles her mouth up in anger, barely getting the words out. “My bar.”
“Fine. Then act like it. This is war, my friend, not love.”
She nods, seemingly resolute. “Right.”
“When you get up in the morning, you get to work. You work your ass off. You show him how running that bar is a six in the morning until two in the morning next day gig.”
“Right. Okay. Hard work. Got it.”
“Get his lawyer’s contact information first thing and text it to me. And you can inform him that you have been instructed not to discuss the business with him until the attorneys have discussed the situation. And then don’t do it, okay? Do not discuss the business at all. Not even for a second.”
“So he can’t work at the bar?”
“No, he can’t work at the bar. He can sit at the bar and be a customer, but no way in hell can he work there until I see what’s going on with his attorney.”
“Okay. So he’ll just sit there all day and stare at me.”
“If he wants to be a dick, sure.”
“How long? I mean, how many days?”
“Until I talk to the lawyer. It could be only one day. It could be weeks. I won’t know until we have that conversation.”
“Okay and what about after-hours?”
“What after-hours? You’re sleeping four hours a day. You’re working otherwise. There are no after-hours.”
“He’s my roommate. Surely we’ll share a meal or two.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t. But you’re an adult, so I’ll leave that up to you. Just remember, keep it professional. No flirting, no sex, not even any kissing.”
“You have no idea how hard this is going to be for me.”
“I can imagine. He’s pretty cute.”
She grins. “He is, right?” A long sigh comes out and she shifts into sadness again. “Why did things have to turn out this way? I mean with him living in Ireland and us meeting at that pub? Destiny must really hate me.”
“You were bound to meet him anyway. If you want to blame someone, blame your grandmother. She’s the one who got you two together.”
“Do you think she did it on purpose?” Erin asks, intrigued by the idea.
I shrug. “Who knows what that old battle-axe had up her sleeve. She was a tricky bitch.”
“That she was.” Erin slides her legs off the couch and stands. “Thanks, Rid, for all your advice.”
“The advice is only worth anything if you follow it.”
“I know, I know. Jaysus, when did you become such a nag?”
“When I got you as a client.” I stand too and give her a hug, patting her on the back. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to work out okay.”
“I hope so. Because if it doesn’t, I’m moving in with you and becoming your housekeeper.”
“Excellent motivation to help me win your case.” I walk her to the door and kiss her on the cheek as she stops in the entrance. “Call me tomorrow?”
“Sure thing. And I’ll text you whenever I have any questions. Be on the lookout and don’t make me wait for your answers. I’m liable to screw everything up and lose the bar in the process.” She walks out into the hallway.
“Just remember,” I say, going serious again, “this is war. He’s the enemy, not your lover, not your friend, not your countryman. Until this is all settled, he is not to be trusted.”
She nods once. “Okay. I can do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
I slowly shut the door as she turns and walks down the hallway. She thinks I can’t hear her when she mumbles, but she’s wrong. Her words come to my ears loud and clear.
“I don’t care what you say. He’s not my enemy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
ERIN
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘FULL access’? You said that he wouldn’t be able to see how the business is run, Rid!” I have to stop myself from stamping my foot. It’s early Sunday morning and I have come down to the office in the bar to call Ridlee in private. She texted me late last night to let me know that she had finally gotten in touch with Micheál’s lawyer. It’s as quiet as a tomb; there’s no one around. I kept Micheál up as late as I could last night and then snuck out this morning without waking him. He has been shadowing me faithfully since Friday afternoon and I haven’t let him have a minute’s rest. All this work is taking its toll on me too, though, and I’m knackered.
“Erin, stay calm. This is the situation and this is what we have to work with,” says my friend stifling a yawn. A pang of guilt reminds me what a favor she’s doing me.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“Yeah, I know.”
“When did you talk to her?”
“Yesterday. On Skype, actually.”
“On a Saturday? She works Saturdays?” I imagine some gorgeous, successful young thing who has boundless energy and the hots for Micheál.
“In this game, honey, we all work Saturdays. And Sundays for that matter. This call is a case in point.”
“Are you charging me for this?” I pretend to be alarmed. I’m trying to keep things light but the situation with Michaél is becoming untenable.
“No, Erin, like I told you on Friday night, it’s pro bono.”
“Oh yeah, thanks.” Of course I hadn’t forgotten. “She’s probably working pro boner for him.” I add bitterly.
“Bono.” She corrects me.
“Bono? Huff! You think I should contact Bono and get him to talk to Micheál about debt forgiveness? Ha!”
“Focus, Erin,” cautions my friend. “Where is he now?”
“He’s still asleep. Or at least I hope he is.” I open the door to the office and peek outside. The coast appears to be clear. I close the door. “So, Rid, what do I have to do?”
“Well, I’ve agreed to let him see the books, business operations, employee records, tax documents, etc.”
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, Ridlee! I won’t be able to afford to buy him out once he knows what the bar makes. I pay the bank manager, my staff, my costs and there’s barely anything left.”
“Well, let him see that. We’ll negotiate a good deal, if it comes to it. Maybe you should appeal to his better nature, Erin.”
“He doesn’t have one anymore. He left it in Ireland. He’s different now, Rid. Edgy. Cold, even.”
“So, no hanky-panky then? That’s good. Remember what I told you,” she says in her most serious lawyer tone.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, there’s no danger of that. He hates me. Meanwhile, the girls who come into the bar are throwing themselves at him. They keep asking him if he’s Colin Fooking Farrell. It’s extremely annoying. I can’t believe that I have to suffer this for twelve fooking weeks!” I moan bent over double in despair.
Just then the door opens. “Ah, there you are! Why didn’t you wake me? It’s almost 7 am.”
It’s him, standing in the doorway, bright as a button.
“Ok, well deliveries all come round the back. Yup, Yup.” I pick up a bit of paper that I spy on the floor and stand up properly. Putting my hand over the mouthpiece of the phone I whisper, “Delivery stuff. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay!” he mouths back, exaggerating the O and the K.
“He’s gone,” I say into the phone. Just then the door opens again.
“Say hi to Ridlee for me,” says my pest-guest, ducking his head quickly out again before I can respond.