Playing Irish

by Brooke Harris

  ‘Don’t overcomplicate things,’ Julian said after a while, softly stroking her hair. ‘It is what is.’

  Eva shot upright as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She wasn’t stupid. So why was he treating her like she was with this ‘it is what it is’ crap? It was patronising, and she resented it. Eva snorted and looked away. Everything in Julian’s life came easy to him. Women, money, boats, sex. Bloody hell, she bet he’d won any game he’d ever played. She wasn’t going to be his prize. One he could just discard with the rest when he was finished. Oh hell, she wanted to - sure. Wouldn’t any woman, she consoled herself. But her damn stubborn inner bitch had all warning sirens blaring.

  Eva stood up and turned to face him, her hands on her hips. The corners of his lips began to curl, and she suspected he might laugh. She instantly regretted the dramatic stance.

  ‘It’s so simple for you, isn’t it? It’s all just one big game. Well, this isn’t fun anymore. I don’t want to play.’ She turned her back, afraid of his reaction.

  Julian caught her arm and spun her back to face him. ‘Don’t do this. Don’t spoil what we have.’

  ‘We have nothing.’ She roughly pulled herself free from his grip. ‘Please, stop being nice to me. Not if you don’t really mean it.’

  Eva’s phone vibrated demandingly in her jeans pocket.

  ‘Leave it,’ Julian whispered, leaning closer to kiss her neck.

  ‘I have to…’

  ‘Evangeline, I said not now.’ Julian stopped kissing her, rose to his full height, and shot her a disapproving glance.

  ‘Hello.’ Eva’s voice echoed around the early morning pier.

  She returned Julian’s stare through hurting eyes. Maybe she could read him after all. She knew what came next. The wind suddenly felt colder than it had before and Eva shivered as she tried to get a grip on the situation.

  Julian rubbed his hand across his forehead, just once. He took off his suit jacket and draped it across her shivering shoulders, turned his back and slowly walked away.

  28

  ‘Damn heat wave,’ Eva said out loud as if the clothes in her wardrobe could reply. Of course, like everyone else in the country, she loved the ten degrees above average temperature. It gave her body a sun-kissed glow, but it left her with very limited work attire. Hotpants and a bikini might have been fine for lounging on the balcony, but she doubted Mr. Doe would be impressed if she arrived to work dressed similarly; tanned shoulders or not. The hangers squeaked and groaned as she pushed dark blouses and heavy, winter trousers to the side. She tutted repeatedly.

  Defeated, she glanced at the far corner of her bedroom where the countless white boxes were stacked. Julian was as good as his word. The parcels had arrived on Saturday, shortly after she got home from Dun Laoghaire. There was no note, or message, or explanation. The box with the silky black ribbon was absent. The deliveryman hadn’t conversed outside of checking that the address was correct and asking her to sign. She’d spent most of Saturday afternoon sulking, ignoring the boxes and constantly checking her phone and emails for updates.

  There were endless messages from Nathan and some from Shelly, but none from Julian. She’d wanted to ignore Nathan, but her damn need to be polite had gotten in the way. She sent a breezy ‘enjoy the weekend,’ text, and he’d finally taken the hint and stopped badgering her. Her reply to Shelly involved the suggestion of wine and a Chinese takeaway. And the response had resulted in spending the evening telling Shelly all about Julian, drinking way too much and Shelly leaving with the contents of at least five boxes.

  But now it was Monday morning and Eva had no alcohol to lean on, no best friend to bitch to, and nothing to bloody wear. She sighed heavily and rummaged for the box containing her favourite outfit. The sleeveless, cream, silk blouse and crop, coral trousers complimented her slim legs and dark hair. She coupled the outfit with too-high-for-comfort wedges and raced out the door. Dammit, Julian had just won again.

  Eva noticed turning heads on her commute to the office and she liked it - a lot. She quickened her pace as she walked past already open shops on Grafton Street. The city was coming to life with tourists and shoppers. And Eva knew, without checking her watch, that she was at least half an hour late for work. Instead of breaking into a mad panicked dash for the office, she stopped, leaned against a store wall, and tried to compose herself.

  This was her second late morning in as many weeks. She waited for anxiety to take hold as it normally did in a circumstance outside of her control. But this time was different, she was different. Her mind was so full of thoughts of Julian, there was absolutely no room in her head for anything else. Even the worry of Meghan’s certain lecture for her tardiness failed to completely unravel her.

  Eva made it to her desk almost unnoticed. Except for Nathan, of course. He swivelled his chair, raised an eyebrow, and winked. Eva forced a smile before sliding into her chair. A takeaway coffee waited for her and a small piece of paper peeked out from underneath, just enough to reveal two handwritten kisses. Eva gritted her teeth before turning around, flicked her chin toward Nathan and turned back just as quickly. Compared to Julian’s fine Arabica, the aroma in front of her stank like malt vinegar. She knew she was being unreasonable. She drank that same coffee for years; it was practically one of her five a day. But Nathan had tarnished it now. And she’d foolishly let him do the same to Julian.

  Eva pulled her top lip between her thumb and index finger as she mulled over the right words to approach Nathan. She really wished she could ask Julian what to say. She could almost hear the sound of his confident smirk in her head, and she could imagine his eyes widening, just slightly, as he’d rise to the challenge. He’d probably confine himself to two brief words…fuck and off. Eva decided on something less profound and slightly longer. She rehearsed it in her head until it sounded just right. Confident but not cocky. Certain but not rude. She would gently explain that she’d prefer to just be friends and hope Nathan wouldn’t be too upset. He would have to understand. God, she was so out of her depth.

  Three uses of the bathroom later, she finally plucked up the courage to tap Nathan on the shoulder. He slid the phone between his chin and shoulder, lifted his right hand from typing frantically on the keypad, and pointed his index finger in the air. Eva hadn’t bargained for having to hang-on-a-second; that was more than enough time to unravel her. But Nathan looked quite sweet, if not an overzealous nerd. This timid guy was no match for Julian. Guilt burned inside her like acid. Nathan was the vanilla Mr. Good Guy. The kind you married and spent Saturday mornings sharing housework with. And she was about to reject him. She was about to do what had been done to her all her life. Jesus, she’d never felt like such a bitch before.

  Maybe she’d read too much into Nathan’s intentions. She’d had a fair share of booze, her judgement wasn’t exactly without cloudiness. Maybe Nathan only meant they’d go to the ball as friends. He hadn’t tried anything on her. If it wasn’t for Julian, she’d be more than delighted with his offer. Oh God, she needed more time to think. She scrunched her nose, tapped his shoulder again, and whispered that she’d talk to him later. Nathan smiled and seemed relieved to revert his full attention back to the phone call.

  Eva’s caller display was lit up like a Christmas tree. She’d been so distracted by her personal life, she’d forgotten to do any work all morning. She could feel Meghan’s eyes on her from across the room. She was right. She looked up to find Meghan glaring, her thumb pressed against her ear and her baby finger touching her lips. Her expression screamed ‘answer the fucking phone.’

  Eva’s mobile rang loudly from her handbag under the desk. She’d always loved the up-tempo beat and impressive guitar solo of her ringtone. But now, in the stillness of the office, she became overly aware that the lyrics played homage to huge asses and giant boobs.

  ‘Hello, hello,’ she said, far more anxious to shut the damn phone up than to find out who was calling.

  ‘Eva, get your ass up here. I’ve been try
ing to get in touch all morning. He’s going crazy.’

  Shelly sounded panicked. Shelly never sounded panicked. Eva instantly worried.

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  Eva’s obedient response surprised her, but it was automatic. She’d learned when Mr. Doe beckoned, no one delayed.

  The elevator seemed to move in slow motion, and Eva inhaled deeply as the doors opened, as if she’d been trapped in an airtight container. She could see Shelly at

  the end of the hall and she raced toward her friend. Her shoes squeaked and announced her arrival long before she reached Shelly’s desk.

  ‘He’s been calling you all morning,’ Shelly said, leaving her desk and hurrying down the corridor to meet Eva halfway.

  ‘I know. Sorry. I was late and…’

  ‘Fuck, don’t tell him that,’ Shelly warned, ‘just say you were on an important call or something. Make it out to be work related.’

  ‘What if he asks me to who?’

  ‘Ah, Jesus. I don’t know. Lie.’

  Eva smiled. It was definitely not an appropriate time to flash the pearly whites, but Shelly always seemed to relax her, even in the most stressful situations.

  ‘Don’t keep him waiting, go on, go on…’ Shelly knocked her shoulder gently against Eva’s and pushed her forward. ‘I’ll see you after.’

  The large office doors were slightly ajar and Eva heard her knock echo in the huge room inside.

  ‘Ms. Andrews,’ the voice beckoned.

  Then there was silence. He didn’t invite her in or come to open the door. Eva stood very still and waited outside. She was so nervous, her stomach churned, and she was suddenly glad she’d missed breakfast. She folded her arms, dropped her head, and made the decision to step inside.

  ‘Close the door behind you,’ Mr. Doe said. ‘There’s a draft.’

  Eva did as she was told, even though she was reluctant to banish the small sliver of light that the open door allowed.

  ‘You were late this morning,’ Mr. Doe said as soon as darkness gripped the room.

  ‘I…I…I’m sorry,’ Eva stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a speedy or convincing lie.

  ‘Did you think I wouldn’t notice?’

  Eva didn’t want to answer that question. She wondered how the man could get any work done if he was paying such close attention to every employee.

  ‘It won’t happen again.’

  ‘Too right, Ms. Andrews. I don’t give a shit what you’ve got going on in your personal life. I pay you to be here on time, and I damn well expect you to respect that. Do I make myself clear?’

  Eva gritted her teeth. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. I don’t want to have this conversation again.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ Eva mumbled under her breath.

  ‘You can leave your mask in reception. I will see you on Friday.’

  Eva knew from the drift in his voice that he had spun his chair around and was no longer facing her. She walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Christ, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Shelly said, jumping up from behind her desk as soon as she saw Eva.

  ‘He…he…he wants my mask.’

  Shelly raised her hand and flicked it to the side. ‘Yeah, he takes them all. Your mask and robe will be waiting for you in reception at the venue.’

  Shelly paused for a moment and suddenly looked very serious. ‘Don’t know why they do it like that, really. Maybe it’s so they know who’s who underneath.’

  ‘Robe?’ Eva asked.

  ‘Yeah, robe. I thought you knew? It’s all about expression, there’s like an uncloaking ceremony and all. It’s fun. Stop worrying.’

  Eva pressed the heel of her hand between her eyes and rubbed gently.

  Shelly spilled two white pills onto the table and placed a fresh paper cup of water beside them. ‘Here take these.’

  Eva stared doe-eyed at her friend.

  ‘Relax, Eva. They’re paracetamol. You look like you need them. Go home, finish your mask, and stop bloody worrying.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Sure you can.’ Shelly pushed the pills closer to the edge of her desk. ‘I’ll cover for you.’

  Eva shook her head and stress pounded against her temples. ‘I don’t know where it is. I haven’t seen it since…since.’

  Shelly nodded along enthusiastically encouraging Eva to finish.

  ‘Oh, Christ,’ Eva stuttered. ‘I think he took it.’

  Shelly’s face lit up like she knew what Eva was talking about. ‘Looks like you need to take a detour on your way home.’

  29

  Eva wasn’t sure what to do first. She thought about calling or texting Julian, but she didn’t know how to start the conversation after the way they’d left things at the pier. Her next idea was to call around to him, but the boat was the only place she knew to find him, and she doubted that was his permanent place of residence. She was left with only one option, and as much as she didn’t want to go there, she found herself hailing a cab and jumping in.

  She scrolled through her phone to find his exact work address from old emails. She felt uncomfortable relying entirely on the driver’s sense of direction, but she had little choice. Area names meant nothing to her, and she had no idea where they were going. As they began to leave the busy city behind, Eva started to panic. What in the hell was she doing? She was losing her mind, and it was all Julian’s fault.

  Old Georgian buildings came into view, with pebble-stoned driveways and high, gated walls. A beautiful, large, stonewashed building stood out amongst the others. Eva spotted the stars and stripes flying high over the embassy and her heart stung with the reminder of who she once was. She missed that kid. All innocence and enthusiastic for life. She’d thought running away would solve her problems, and it did - for a while, anyway. But secrets have a way of eating at you from the inside out. Eva tossed her head and tried not to think about it. She was over analysing everything, as usual.

  ‘We’re here, Love,’ the Taxi driver said, coming to a stop outside the most elaborate building of all.

  Eva was reluctant to get out. She shouldn’t be here; she knew that. She was falling head first into another world of secrets, and even though her head was telling her to turn around, every other instinct was begging her to go on. Eva suddenly thought of her mother…maybe this was how she felt. Besotted by the charm of a dangerous man. But was Julian dangerous? Surely not.

  ‘You alright, Love?’

  The driver’s voice pulled Eva back into the here and now.

  ‘Have you got the right place? Number three-sixty-five, you said.’

  Eva nodded. It was a stunning mansion to match a stunning man; it was definitely the right place.

  A light mist brushed against Eva’s face. It was a welcome relief after the clammy warmth of the cab. Eva pulled a small, black umbrella from her bag and hid underneath. She wasn’t hiding from the rain, more the large security camera’s perched on the top of each pillar. If this was the right place, then Julian already knew she was here. She couldn’t retreat now. The iron gates creaked and groaned as they swung open slowly. Eva was grateful for the crunch of the sandy-coloured pebble stones under her shoes; it drowned out the furious beating of her heart. She walked slowly, almost waiting for someone to stop her. A security guard or a gardener at least, someone, anyone, but there was no one there.

  A curly haired, elderly lady opened the front door within seconds of Eva ringing the doorbell.

  ‘Ms. Andrews,’ she said with a gentle country lilt. She was asking, not accusing. Eva liked her straight away and confirmed her identity with a nod and a smile.

  ‘He said you’d come. I didn’t believe him, mind you.’

  Eva’s smile grew. Julian had told someone about her, his housekeeper - it seemed. That meant something, at least. She just didn’t know what.

  The housekeeper stepped back and glided her hand across the air. ‘Where are my manners? Come in, come in.’
>
  The house was just as beautiful inside as out. The relaxed décor tied in with the architectural era, and Eva imagined Julian had taken great pride in getting it just right.

  ‘Mr. Harte left something for you…it’s just down here, in the drawing room. I’ll just be a moment.’

  The housekeeper tottered off into one of the many rooms off the main hall. Eva felt horribly nervous, standing alone in the huge open space. She scanned the walls; they were abundant with artwork. Eva recognised some of the older oil paintings from her art history classes in school. They were breathtaking, and Eva had no doubt they were the real thing. Replicas certainly weren’t Julian’s style. But as beautiful as the art was, Eva couldn’t help notice the lack of any personal pictures.

  Taste and grandeur were impressive, but Eva wanted something that gave her a hint of who Julian really was. A picture from his childhood, a memory, a window into his past - just something. This guy was a closed book, and it was utterly frustrating.

  The housekeeper returned and handed Eva a box. Eva recognised the silky black ribbon straight away.

  ‘For me?’ Eva said, her fingers shaking as she reached out for it.

  The housekeeper nodded. ‘Something special, no doubt.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  Eva leaned forward, about to politely kiss the air at each side of the housekeeper’s cheek. She nearly knocked herself off balance when she stopped abruptly, remembering Shelly’s culture advice. Before she had time to straighten up, the housekeeper grabbed her and hugged her tight.

  ‘You’re special,’ she said, squeezing the air right out of Eva. ‘Julian sees it, and I do, too. Take care of him. God knows he needs someone to.’

  Eva wanted to say something. To thank her for her help, at the very least. But she was past words. She left with just a huge, bright smile and a nod.

  Eva walked until she found a small, quiet area of nearby Herbert Park. She winced as she sat back on the cold timber of a lonely bench, hidden beneath an old weeping willow. The housekeeper’s words played over and over in her mind. She’d been so genuine and lovely, but her good intentions were definitely misguided.