Wild Irish Rebel
Page 3
"Aye, I am at that. But, I'll be off to bed soon. I just got a bug in me last night and it was the first real balmy night we've had in a while. I couldn't resist painting under the stars," Aislinn said and took down a small towel from the shelf above the sink to pat her brushes dry.
Morgan found her mouth going dry and she struggled for a moment as she tried to form the words that she wanted to say.
Aislinn turned and peered at her, a concerned look crossing her face.
"Okay, what are you scared for? I can read you a mile away," Aislinn said.
Morgan blew her breath out on a laugh. "I keep forgetting that I can't hide stuff from you and the other ladies," she said and shrugged her shoulders.
"Well, go on," Aislinn said, drying her hands on a small towel.
"If the offer still stands, I'd like to accept the position as manager of the gallery," Morgan said quickly and jumped when Aislinn let out a cheer and hugged her.
Her shoulders immediately stiffened when Aislinn wrapped her arms around her and Morgan tried to remember what Baird had taught her about returning easy affection. She wrapped her arms around Aislinn and squeezed back, knowing that this woman, with the big heart and generous soul, had saved her life.
Aislinn pulled back and studied Morgan's face.
"You're perfect for this job, you know that, right?"
Morgan just shrugged her shoulders and looked at Aislinn, surprised to feel tears prick her eyes. "I just, I don’t want to let you down. I want you to feel comfortable with me managing your work and I want you to be proud of me, and what this gallery can become." Her words came out on a rush of breath, but Morgan was happy that she said them. She was working on opening up to people and Morgan knew that honesty with her emotions was something that would help her to form better bonds with others.
Aislinn's face softened and she patted Morgan's arm.
"Listen, Morgan, I may come across as carefree and head-in-the-clouds with my business, but despite the appearance, I am a hard worker and driven to succeed. I would never put someone at the helm of my business if I didn't trust them implicitly."
Aislinn's words emboldened her, but helpless not to, Morgan reached out and did a quick scan of Aislinn's mind and feelings. What she found there made her cry just a little harder.
Aislinn believed in her completely. Not only that, she loved Morgan.
"Get what you need?" Aislinn asked, knowing that Morgan had dipped into her personal space.
"Yes, I'm sorry, that was rude of me," Morgan said, wiping her eyes.
Aislinn smiled up at her.
"You've no reason to apologize. I understand why it is particularly hard for you to believe that someone wants you to stay – believes in you. But that is in your past now."
Morgan nodded, wiping her eyes again. Straightening, she smiled at Aislinn. "Thank you for the opportunity."
"Now, let's talk salary," Aislinn said and began outlining what she had in mind for Morgan. By the time she was finished, Morgan's mouth had dropped open and she grasped the side of the counter to keep the wave of dizziness that hit her from sending her stumbling back.
"You can't be serious," Morgan said. It was more money then she'd ever dreamed of making in her life. Granted, she knew that she lived a humble life and at best, lived paycheck to paycheck. This new salary would allow her to actually put some money away in a savings account.
"I never joke about money," Aislinn said.
"This will change my life. I won't feel like I will be constantly worried about making rent!" Morgan exclaimed.
"Aye, and maybe you can even move into a bigger place," Aislinn said and Morgan immediately sobered.
"No, I like my place just as it is. It is the first spot that I can call my own," Morgan admitted. Aislinn didn't say anything, only patted her arm in understanding.
"I'm off to sleep for the day. If Baird stops in, tell him I'm at the house and not to wake me up. Unless he plans to do something about it," Aislinn said with a wicked smile and slipped out of the back door.
Morgan stayed where she was for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to process the benefits of her new role as manager. She'd never even considered a pay raise when she'd thought about taking the job and now Morgan was glad that she hadn't known about it. The amount of money she was now making would surely have put her off from ever accepting the job.
A feeling of pride slowly slipped through her. It was foreign to her, feeling proud of her accomplishments, and on a small laugh she wrapped her arms around herself and looked out at the gallery.
Today was the beginning of her new life, she decided.
Stepping into the gallery, she ran a critical eye over the room. When she'd first started working for Aislinn, Morgan had taken it upon herself to use her power to rearrange the shop. Feeling a little more confident in her ability to change things now, Morgan decided another makeover was needed.
First, she strolled through the racks of prints and towards the large windows that ran the length of the front room. They stretched from street level to ceiling height and offered passersby an unobstructed view of the artwork. When she'd first rearranged the gallery, she had done so with the intent of allowing the customer an easier browsing experience. Now, she wanted to do something to really draw the clientele in.
Morgan turned to the windows and snagged the cord that controlled the blinds. Without a second thought, she dropped the blinds to the floor so people walking by couldn't look in. Making sure that the closed sign was still up, she turned again, her hands on her hips.
"Alright then, let's start with moving the print racks back by the cash register," Morgan said out loud. "That way when a customer is ringing something up, they may make an impulse purchase. Plus, it will force them to walk through the gallery to get to the more affordable items."
With a nod, she glanced around one more time, ensuring that she was alone, and then moved the racks with her mind. They skidded across the room, just barely lifting from the floor, before coming to a rest in a neat row by the cash register. Tapping her finger on her lips, Morgan began to circle the room, now wide open from where the racks had once been. The wall above her was dominated with Aislinn's most expensive work and Morgan agreed with their placement. Leaving those untouched, she wandered towards the back room and looked at some of Aislinn's newer works.
"I wonder if I set them up so each has its own mini-space…" Morgan wondered out loud and then went to the storeroom. There, lining the walls, were close to thirty easels in various sizes.
"Perfect," Morgan said and walked out of the room, the easels following her in a neat row. Walking into the gallery, she directed each easel to a place, with the three largest positioned facing the window.
"Now, for the art," Morgan said and scanned the room, moving paintings of the Irish countryside, small town Grace's Cove, and seascapes to various points around the room. She stopped in front of a large oil painting of the cove.
"So it's you who has given me this power, is it?" Morgan murmured as she traced her finger down the edge of the painting. Aislinn had told her that all female descendants of Grace O'Malley had a touch of power, but Morgan knew little else. She knew that Aislinn wanted her to go to Fiona, the great healer, to learn more about her past. Morgan just wasn't sure if she was ready for it. It was almost as though she needed to get steady on her feet first before claiming a family history that she knew little about.
One that would give her an actual identity, she lectured herself as she lifted the painting and moved it towards the front of the shop.
It was funny, Morgan thought, that she was so reluctant to learn about her ancestry. Perhaps because she had been protecting herself for so long that she was scared to learn anything that connected her to her past. It was easier to move forward, never looking back.
Morgan settled the painting on the large easel in the middle and stood back. She sighed in pure envy of Aislinn's artistic prowess. She had painted the cove at sundown. The golden rays of
the sun sliced across the sea-green water of the cove, illuminating the rock walls above the beach and casting shadows on the cliffs that hugged it. The painting was moody and beautiful at the same time; nobody who saw it would remain untouched. Morgan would be sad to see it go.
Making a note to purchase a print of this painting as her first purchase with her new salary, Morgan picked two other paintings to flank the seascape. One was a cheerful depiction of the colorful stores that lined the waterfront in downtown Grace's Cove and the other was a dreamy watercolor landscape that showcased the infamous Kerry Green pastures of Ireland.
Pleased with her work, Morgan stepped back and scanned the gallery. It looked edgy, like a funky artist's studio with a serious punch of talent. Anybody who walked past the window would stop for a second look. With a quick nod to herself, she pulled the cord to open the blinds and flipped the CLOSED sign to OPEN on the front door. Unlocking the door, she moved across the room and pulled the books from beneath the cash register, ready to run her numbers for the day.
Hours later, Morgan looked around her in dismay.
She'd never expected two tourist buses to unload in front of the shop that day. Her new window display had done more than she'd expected and not only had she sold the shop out of prints and postcards, but she'd also sold five paintings. Five! Morgan did a little dance as she raced across the room and locked the front door. This was their highest sales day in months and she couldn't wait to tell Aislinn the numbers. It would be enough money for Aislinn to finish the renovation of her apartment above the gallery into a studio.
Pleased with how her day had gone, Morgan finished up counting the money and placed everything in the safe in the storeroom. She was in a good mood, and contemplated going over to the pub for a pint. She rarely drank but sometimes it was fun to celebrate.
Undecided, Morgan swung outside and stopped in her tracks.
Chapter Six
"Patrick!" morgan exclaimed, immediately feeling her shoulders tense up. Wary of him, she stood where she was.
"I brought you something to celebrate," Patrick said with an easy smile. He sat at the picnic table in the courtyard, legs stretched out in front of him, his muscular arms braced on the table. Morgan found herself drinking in the sight of him, all cool and casual, confident in his place in the world. A part of her desperately wanted to run over and jump on his lap, to tell him about her exciting day.
Instead she tilted her head at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Congratulations on what exactly?"
Patrick laughed and gestured to the ice bucket and glasses.
"On your new job! What else?"
"Word travels fast," Morgan murmured as she stepped closer to where Patrick sat.
"Small towns," Patrick said with a smile. "Plus, Baird stopped in for a late lunch and told me."
"Ah, yes, I'm quite excited," Morgan admitted and stood there stiffly, unsure of what to do.
"Come, have a drink. I've only seen you drink cider, and I've a lovely one here, made down at a little brewery on the Ring of Kerry," Patrick said easily and Morgan found herself warming to him.
"Well, I was considering stopping by the pub for a pint in celebration," she admitted.
"Ah, the lass does know how to lighten up once in a while," Patrick said, teasing her. Morgan was surprised to hear a laugh coming from her instead of her usual sarcastic response.
"I have my moments," she said and moved to sit on the other side of the table from Patrick. Sitting on the bench next to him would have been too close for comfort.
"Well, may I say that I'd like to be around for more of these moments?" Patrick said and popped the top on the bottle of cider, pouring honey-colored liquid into the glass and handing it to her across the table. A little shiver went through Morgan as her hand brushed Patrick's.
She hesitated before taking a sip, meeting his eyes over the rim of the glass.
"Thanks," she said.
"Sláinte " Patrick gestured and tapped her glass with his. Morgan gave a little trill of pleasure as the sweet liquid slipped down her throat.
"This is wonderful," she said.
"Isn't it just? I've got to talk to Cait about stocking it more," Patrick said.
Business, Morgan thought. She could talk business.
"So are you taking over for her once the baby comes?"
Patrick leaned forward, excitement crossing his face.
"Well, she's already made me part-time manager and then I'll be full-time when the baby comes. I like it. I can be more involved with inventory or running daily specials. I like to try out new things on the menu too," Patrick said.
"How did you end up working for Cait?" Morgan asked, keeping the conversation on him. It was an old habit of hers, leading the conversation so that people wouldn't ask too many questions about her past.
"Aye, well after school, I needed a job. I wanted to move out from my mum's and take a few years off to see if I wanted to go to uni or not," Patrick said.
"You're from around here then."
"We moved here from Kerry when I was ten. It was a little hard to adjust at first but I grew to love this town. People stand behind their own here."
Morgan sipped on her cider and pondered his words. She wondered why it felt like a threat to her. Would they run her out of town if they knew about her past?
"You?" Patrick asked.
"Ah, I don't think that I will go to uni. I'm not sure what I would major in," Morgan said, deliberately misreading his question. "What would you go for?"
Patrick leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, looking out over the courtyard.
"I don't know at that. I've always had a hankering to build things…engineering has crossed my mind. Though the more that I am stepping into the managerial side of things at the pub, the business side of things is exciting to me."
"It is, isn't it? I've been reading all the business books that I can find and I really love it. The nuts and bolts of it, you know? Spreadsheets, budgets, marketing plans. It's great." Morgan stopped herself and glanced down at her glass, surprised to find it empty.
"Ah, so that is the book you ran home to the other night then," Patrick said.
Morgan shrugged her shoulders, a little embarrassed that she had revealed that part of herself. But, it had been the only way that she could learn about being a manager.
"It must have been a good read as you accepted the position then," Patrick said over her silence and filled her glass with the rest of the cider in the bottle.
Morgan was feeling a little warm and loose from the alcohol so she smiled up at Patrick.
She leaned forward and propped her head on her arms halfway across the table, her eyes wide with excitement.
"They're all good reads. I've absorbed so much. I knew that I wanted this job but I was scared to take it. Plus, I didn't want to let Flynn down. But we talked yesterday and he is fine with me coming in on my day off to help him out. He's got enough eager hands that he doesn't really need me. I suppose that he probably just gave me the job as a favor," Morgan admitted.
"You wouldn't have kept it if you couldn't hack it," Patrick said, leaning forward, bringing his face close to hers.
Morgan stilled as she suddenly realized that their faces were inches apart. With the sun beginning to set and the two of them standing in the courtyard, it immediately reminded her of the last time that they had been here and her poor reaction to his attempted kiss.
"Listen…" Morgan said.
Patrick cut her off.
"I'm going to kiss you," he said, meeting her eyes and giving her ample warning.
Plenty of time to say no.
Feeling almost hypnotized under his gaze, she nodded slowly.
Patrick leaned forward and she lost herself for a moment in his gray eyes, noticing the tiny flecks of green now that they were so close. Her eyes drifted closed just as he brushed his lips across hers.
A zing of heat shot through her and unable to help herself, she moaned
softly as he deepened the kiss, sliding his lips across hers, nipping a bit at her full bottom lip. Morgan was lost in a sea of emotions, like all of her nerve endings had fired up at once.
This was her first kiss.
She wasn't sure why she had waited so long if it was as pleasurable as this. Patrick's hands cupped her face, tilting it so that he could continue to kiss her deeply, coaxing her to open her lips so he could slip his tongue in to tease hers.
Her eyes shot open as something bumped her arm.
A cold rush of panic shot through her as she realized that her glass and the ice bucket were hovering near her arm. Slamming her eyes closed, she poured herself into the kiss while desperately trying to concentrate on lowering the items carefully back to the table.
"Shit!" Morgan screeched as cold liquid splashed over her leg.
Patrick broke off and looked at her knocked-over glass in confusion.
"How did that happen?"
"I, um, must have bumped it," Morgan said, heat creeping up her cheeks. She wanted to bury her face in her hands. Chalk it up to another reason not to date, she thought. If this happened every time someone kissed her, she could only imagine what would happen if she took a man to bed with her. She'd have to bolt all of her furniture down.
Her eyes met Patrick's as he handed her a napkin to mop up the spilled cider.
"Sorry about that. It was really good cider," Morgan said weakly.
"No matter, I'm just sorry that you got wet," Patrick said. Morgan's eyes shot to Patrick's and her face felt like it was on fire.
Patrick let out a hearty laugh and then bent over, laughing even harder as he pounded his hand on the table.
"I didn't mean that to sound, um, dirty," he huffed out, struggling to breathe.
Morgan found herself laughing at him, surprised that she could relax around him after their kiss.
Patrick leaned back over the table, his face serious again.
"I liked kissing you. I like you. It's no secret that I'm very interested in you," he said softly, capturing her hand with his.