Irish Affair

by Heartley, Amanda

  “Then I’m interested in seeing your reaction for what I’ve planned next,” he says, dragging me around a corner, away from the small crowd.

  “And what is that?” I say, tilting my head and narrowing my eyes at him.

  He just grins and leans in to kiss me. “You’ll see.”

  * * *

  It’s just past eight o’clock, and we’re standing in front of The Night Walker, a bar I know that’s famous for its open mic nights. I scowl at Rory, because I think I know exactly where this is going.

  “This better not be a country music night special,” I warn him.

  He laughs, amused. “You’d kill me if it is, right?”

  “It is, isn’t it?” I press him. I groan and bang my head against his shoulder a couple of times in despair. “Are you serious?” I say, laughing. “Are you actually trying to bore me to death? I thought the idea was to convince me that we’re worth a try. This is doing quite the opposite. I like you, in spite of your love for country music, not because of it,” I add, smirking at him.

  “Well, that’s grand, Amelia. The key point I’m taking away from that statement is, you just admitted you like me,” Rory says, his eyes sparkling as he wiggles his eyebrows at me. I flush, because there’s no arguing that.

  We go inside and manage to score a table, just as the first person starts to sing. They’re pretty good, but it doesn’t really change my opinion on country music. None of the performers do, not really. I’m trying to like it, but it’s just not my thing. After several mediocre performances, Rory stands up. He grabs a pair of sunglasses, and a hat from his pocket and puts them on.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, my eyes widening.

  He grins at me. “What?” he says with a shrug. “There’s no rule against me performing, is there?”

  “Actually, I think there is,” I retort. “Do you not understand the definition of amateur performers only?” I grin.

  “I won’t accept the cash if I win,” he shrugs. “It’ll be fine.”

  “You think they’re not going to recognize you?” I say with a smirk. “They were all over you at the zoo, for God’s sake.”

  “Ah, but that was without my trusty disguise. And so what? You think they’re going to kick me out if they realize who I am?”

  Good point.

  He winks at me and walks up on stage. I smile, waiting for him to be identified—hat or not. I’ll give it about two minutes before someone realizes who he is—if it even takes that long. After settling himself into a stool on the stage, he picks up the mic and starts singing.

  I sit, stunned, through his whole performance, unable to move even a muscle. He looks directly at me the entire time—every word penetrating my soul. His voice touches me in ways I never thought possible. When he’s finished, he stands, and a soft murmur sweeps through the crowd. My heart races as he steps down from the stage.

  People rise from their seats and begin to clap, until every seat in the place is empty. The host jumps up and motions for Rory to come back on stage.

  “And I think we’ve got a clear winner here, folks,” he says, putting his arm on Rory’s shoulder.

  I giggle, because I don’t think the host recognizes him. Rory winces and takes off his hat and glasses. The host’s eyes widen, and Rory smiles sheepishly.

  “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist joining in.” He glances over at me, a glint in his eye. “See my friend here, she hates country music. I thought this would be the perfect way to show her how good, and uplifting to the spirit, it can be.”

  Everyone in the entire place turns to stare at me. I flush, and I’m sure my cheeks are as red as they can possibly be. I glare at him, silently signaling him to shut the fuck up. I feel like some sort of criminal about to be lynched.

  “I don’t want to spoil your event, but would you guys be too upset if I performed a few more songs to try and change her mind?” he asks the crowd. Thankfully, they take their staring eyes off me and turn back to him, responding loudly with more cheers and whistles.

  He sits back down, taking a guitar offered to him from another performer in the front row. Again, he stares directly at me while he sings, like we’re the only two people in the place. By the end of his mini show, I’m converted. The lyrics are hauntingly beautiful. I have no idea if these are his new songs or not, but every line sounds like it’s about us. I sigh, completely and utterly moved by his performance.

  My heart races as the crowd launches to their feet and erupts into a deafening chorus of cheers and applause. I clap along with them, tears in my eyes, so proud of him. I can’t wait to talk to him, or to feel those hands caress my face again. I can’t wait to see the look in his eyes when I tell him how his words melted me. Deep, to my very core.

  He steps off the stage, and I wait, ready for him to come back to me. I watch as he gets swamped by his fans. They look so happy as they slap him on the back, and he’s shaking every hand outstretched to him with a big smile on his face. Everyone wants his autograph or, maybe, just to tell him how much his songs mean to them. I leave him to revel in the moment with his fans while I take a trip to the bathroom. His words brought tears to my eyes and I’m worried I might be looking like a panda, or some freak from the Rocky Horror Show with my mascara running down my face.

  The place is still crowded when I come out. There are people everywhere, but when I glance back to the stage, I can’t see Rory anywhere. I look around, and ask a few people if they’ve seen him, but all I get is either shrugs, or being hit on by some drunk wannabe cowboys. How could he disappear into thin air?

  Now, the doubts creep in. Did he just leave me here and go off with his fans? Did they hijack him to another bar? Is he okay? I ask one guy to check in the bathroom for me, but he comes out shaking his head. He tells me he thinks he saw him leave, but he’s not sure. A feeling of panic comes over me since I have no idea where he is, or what to do.

  I send him a text as I walk outside, letting him know I’ll be out front when he’s through, and I stand by the entrance for a good twenty minutes, waiting for him to either show, or reply. He does neither, and I give up. Maybe after all the attention he got from the girls at the zoo, and the women fawning over him here, he’s changed his mind about us. I’m worried about him, and I even think about calling the cops to report him missing, but I know it’s too soon for that. I’m disappointed, but I can’t wait here all night for him, so I send another text to say I’m leaving, then head back home.

  * * *

  Clare’s sitting on the couch, trying to look like she isn’t waiting up for me when I walk through the door. She casually glances over, like my entrance interrupted her reading. I glance at the book and smirk.

  “You’ll probably find you can get more into the story if you hold the book the right way up,” I say, kicking off my shoes. She frowns and glances down, her face going red.

  “Fine. You caught me. So, how was it?” she asks, tossing the book aside.

  I sit down on the couch, tucking my feet up under me. To be honest, I’m feeling bittersweet. We had a great day, but the way it ended only confirmed my fears about us.

  “It was good. We had a great day,” I say with a wistful smile on my face. “He took me to the zoo.”

  “The zoo?” Clare makes a face, obviously having flashbacks.

  “Yeah, then we went to an open mic night to listen to some country music.”

  “Wow, you must’ve been in heaven,” Clare giggles. “The zoo and country music? This guy clearly knows the way to your heart.”

  I chuckle. “It actually wasn’t that bad. He got up onto the stage and sang. He played a handful of songs, singing them all directly at me,” I say. My heart skips a beat just thinking about it.

  “Now that’s more like it. You are one lucky little bitch, Meels. I’m so fucking jealous of you, right now,” she whispers, a dreamy smile on her face. “I missed the concert because of you the other night, and now I’ve missed him again?”

  I nod. “He was ama
zing,” I admit. “And then reality hit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, once everyone realized who he was, he got swarmed. I lost him and had to find my own way home,” I say with a frown. “I guess it made me realize his fame is another complication I hadn’t considered. You know me, I hate the spotlight. I don’t want to worry every time I open a magazine whether someone has gotten the money shot of my ass hanging out of my pants.”

  “I think you’re taking all this a little too seriously,” Clare says. “Not every night is going to be like tonight.”

  “I know,” I say. “They will be worse. Imagine me being over here and seeing him spread all over the gossip magazines in Ireland with this woman or doing that with another one. You say you’re jealous? That would drive me crazy. How could I not let that get into my head?”

  “By trusting him,” she says. “If you can’t do that, then you’re right. It won’t work. But it’s not the distance or his fame that’ll be the issue…”

  Before I can reply, my phone vibrates. I glance down, my pulse racing when I see his name flash across my screen.

  Rory: Amelia, I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan for things to get that crazy. Where’d you go?

  “Is it him?” Clare asks.

  I nod. “He’s apologizing,” I say with a shrug.

  “Well, that’s good,” Clare says.

  I don’t answer. All I can think about is what Clare said.

  She’s right. The problem is me.

  I thought the distance would be the biggest hurdle, but all my reservations have nothing to do with that. It’s how many times I’ve been let down and hurt in the past. I want to trust him, I really do, but what makes this time so different? I think I’ve proven my judgement to be less than reliable in the past. I just don’t know if he’s worth the risk of me getting hurt again. I don’t think my heart could take it.

  “Anyway,” I say, smiling at her. “I know it’s only nine-thirty, but I’m tired. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I get up and walk over to Clare, kissing her on the forehead. I close the door to my room, get undressed, and put my pajamas on. I climb into bed and pick up my phone. I’m just about to text Rory back when I see an email waiting for me. I click on it, my eyes widening when I see who it’s from.

  Garrett. Holy shit.

  My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at my inbox. Do I want to see what he has to say? No, but there’s no way I can ignore his email. I’m way too curious to see what it says.

  My hands are shaking as I take a deep breath open the message.

  Dear Amelia,

  Where do I even begin?

  I owe you an apology. A huge one. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just need you to know that I wasn’t lying to you. Not completely, anyway. I didn’t tell you about my daughter, because I wasn’t sure how you’d react to that.

  My wife, Allie, and I had been separated for a month before I started talking to you. The day you turned up, she came back, threatening that I’d never get to see our daughter again. I had just managed to calm her down and convince her not to flee with our child back to Northern Ireland when you turned up.

  She lost control, and I was terrified for my daughter’s safety. That’s why I couldn’t leave my house to go after you. Had it not been for that, I would’ve stayed there and explained this to you in person.

  I need you to know why I did that. I just wish you’d told me you were coming over, so I could’ve worked things out better for the both of us. Anyway, I hope I hear back from you. I hope you can give me another chance.

  Love, Garrett.

  What the fuck? I lay down on my bed, overwhelmed and unsure what to think, but one thing I do know, it’s too little, too late. Never mind the fact that my heart has been consumed by someone else. I frown, remembering I was about to text Rory back before that email came through, and I quickly type out a reply.

  Me: It’s okay. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.

  I turn my phone off and place it on my nightstand. Rolling over, I close my eyes and sigh. I can’t deal with Rory, or Garrett right now. I can’t think about anything at the moment, otherwise I’m going to be awake all night.

  Chapter Ten

  Rory

  I stare at my phone, wishing she’d just reply, already. She told me she’d see me tomorrow, but the problem is, I’m leaving for L.A. in the morning. I’ve tried calling her, but her phone is turned off. I could get a cab to her sister’s place, but that’s easily a half hour away, and it’s getting late already. She probably wouldn’t appreciate me frightening her by turning up, but I also don’t want to leave things like we did in Ireland. If not tonight, who knows when I’ll see her next?

  There’s a knock on my hotel room door, pulling me out of my dilemma and making me jump. Maybe that’s her? I walk over to the door and yank it open. My heart sinks when I see Ben standing there. Not that I don’t like him, but I so wanted it to be Amelia.

  “Hey. Sorry to just rock up here, but I thought we could celebrate a successful New York trip before you head to L.A.,” he says with a grin.

  “Hi, Ben. Good to see you. Um, come in,” I say, not wanting to appear rude after the friendship he’s shown me since I’ve been here. I glance at my phone. Still no reply from Amelia, and it’s almost ten in the evening. I have to resign myself to the fact that she either doesn’t want to see me again tonight, or she’s gone to bed already.

  “Is everything okay?” he asks, closing the door behind him.

  I nod. “Yeah. Just a bit of girl trouble,” I admit with a sigh.

  “Well, that sucks. Want to talk about it? It might help you feel better?”

  “Maybe,” I mutter, even though I doubt it.

  My phone rings, and I jump again, shoving my hand in my pocket to retrieve it. I check the screen. It’s a video call from Siobhan, and I sigh. Then I feel bad for being disappointed. Any other time, I’d love to hear from my sister. If anyone was going to cheer me up, it would be her.

  “Mind if I take this?” I ask Ben.

  He shrugs. “Go ahead.”

  “Hey.” I grin when I see her smiling face. I haven’t spoken to her since I got here, even though I promised I’d call her. Ben glances over my shoulder, his eyes widening. I scowl at him, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. I’ve put up with my friends thinking my sisters are hot most of my life.

  “Rory! I’ve so missed that ugly face around here,” she giggles.

  “Thanks, Siobhan. I know I can always count on you to cheer me up,” I chuckle. “How’s things back home?”

  “You know,” she says with a shrug. “Boring as usual. Work’s boring. There’s nothing to do here, and nobody to do it with. Just boring as shite.”

  “Come over here and I’ll do a few things with you,” Ben murmurs. He glares at me when I toss a half-full bottle of water at his head, narrowly missing him. “What the hell? Chill out, dude. Your sister sounds hot,” he says with a shrug, like he shouldn’t have to apologize for that.

  “Who’s that with you?” Siobhan asks. She cranes her neck, as if that’s going to improve her viewing angle. I chuckle, not wanting to point out it’s not going to help.

  “Nobody you need to be concerned with,” I growl. Ben chuckles and puts his arm around my shoulder, so she can see him.

  “Hey, Rory’s sister. Aren’t you cute?” he says, brazenly.

  I groan when Siobhan’s eyes light up, because I’ve seen that look before, and it’s never ended well.

  “Well, hello,” she replies. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I scold her. “Did you ring to speak to me, or this eejit here?”

  “Are you giving me the choice?” she giggles. She rolls her eyes when I frown at her. “Fine. Spoilsport. So, how’s it going over there? Having fun? Did you find Amelia yet? Are you excited about the music awards? I’m soooo jealous.”

  “Jesus, will you calm down?” I say with a laugh. “One qu
estion at a time, please.”

  “Sorry.” She giggles. “I’m just so excited to speak to you.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen Amelia, but that’s a little up in the air right now. The shows have been great. I’m silently crapping myself about the music awards on Sunday. I’m super-nervous,” I admit. “I’m just trying not to think about how bad it will be if I fuck it all up.”

  “You found Amelia? You’re fucking yanking my chain, Rory Maguire. You did not…did you?” she says.

  “Yes, I did,” I reply. “But I’ll tell you all about it another time. My main worry now is the music awards.”

  “Ah, you’ll be grand,” she says. “You rock at singing live. I’ve seen you. And once you get into it, you’ll forget that billions of people all over the planet are watching you.”

  “Great. Thanks for taking the pressure off, but that’s unlikely,” I mumble.

  “Anyway,” Siobhan says. “I’m on my mobile, and this is costing me a rare fortune. I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.” She smiles and blows me a kiss. “Mum and the rest of the tribe say hi, and they’ll call you after the show. Bye. Love you,” she says. A sneaky grin forms on her lips, and her eyes sparkle. “Bye, Rory’s friend,” she adds, giggling.

  “Bye, Rory’s sister,” he says, blowing her a kiss and waving, with a look in his eyes that makes me feel sick. I can’t handle the thought of my sister flirting with anyone, let alone someone I consider a friend. I end the chat and toss my phone on the couch. I turn to Ben. He looks deep in thought, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

  “Don’t even think about it, matey,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “She’s my little sister.”

  “Hey,” he says, holding up his hands. “No need to worry about me. She’s all the way over there, and I’m here, remember?” then he rubs his hands together. “But we do need to take your mind off this chick of yours…and your upcoming performance. We should go.”

  I shrug and shove my phone back in my pocket.

  “Alright, but one drink, okay? I don’t want to make it a late one. I have a flight in the morning.”