Straight Up Irish

by Magan Vernon

  “I was just about to see if Fallon wanted to join me for brunch. Or lunch. Or just a pint and a shag if she fancied that,” Connor said, shooting a wink in my direction and knocking me out of my thoughts.

  Jack turned toward me, locking his steely gaze on mine. “Do you want me to have someone escort my brother out of the building? Get him to stop harassing you?”

  My bottom lip trembled, and I bit down on it before shaking my head. “No, sir. Don’t worry. I can handle Connor.”

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you fancy him? You do know he’s slept with half of Dublin and probably Boston, too. Not exactly the best lot.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, brother,” Connor said with a smirk, clasping his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Especially since after spending some time with Fallon last night, I found your assistant barely gets out of her flat or this office. Do you want an unhappy employee? Maybe you want to give her the afternoon off, paid, to go explore the city with your favorite middle brother.”

  Jack looked between us, and when I didn’t respond, unsure if I could even speak since my mouth was so dry, he groaned.

  Then he headed toward the wooden doors to his office, waving his hand. “You can have two hours, then I expect you both back and for someone to clean up that desk.”

  “Thanks, bro!” Connor yelled, cupping his hand over his mouth like a megaphone before turning toward me. “So, what do you say, pinky? Brunch? I know a place we could get some great bangers and pudding.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That doesn’t sound appetizing, and I really should clean off my desk.”

  “Would you rather have my banger? Because I could arrange that, too,” he roared, and some women giggled from the copier, glancing in our direction.

  I sighed and lowered my voice, “Okay. Brunch. No banging. Or bangers. Or whatever. And no yelling that in front of the entire office.”

  Connor laughed, putting his arm around my shoulder. “That’s my girl.”

  “Not your girl,” I said, sliding out of his grip.

  “Not yet,” he said under his breath.

  …

  We sat at a little café sipping on tea while we waited for our order of bangers and black pudding, which Connor assured me was better than it sounded.

  “You know this counts as our second date. That’s two more dates than I’ve been on in the past few years. We’re getting into marriage territory, I think. Especially once office gossip spreads,” Connor said, smiling over his cup.

  “I think one would need more than two dates and some office gossip for a believable marriage,” I quipped, taking a sip of my tea.

  “How many do you think we need? Four? Then a big proposal. Maybe a June wedding, then by Christmas we collect the inheritance, the company, and you can go back home to that American boy who was blowing up your computer with messages.” Connor grinned, setting his cup down.

  I fumbled with my napkin, thinking it might be time for me to block Ray on messenger. “There’s no American boy. Just an ex who isn’t getting the hint. We broke up a little while ago.”

  “Any guy who would let a beautiful blond American girl be alone in Ireland and not have the balls to come visit her and shag her properly is a shite you didn’t need anyway.” Connor’s words sent a wave of heat from my cheeks and straight down to my core.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I was shagged properly, as Connor put it. Not since way before I left for Ireland, at least. I tried to get Ray to video chat and get frisky, but he found it weird, and his mom could walk downstairs to do the laundry at any time. It had been a very long time since I had a real man’s touch or even a great conversation. I enjoyed the comfortable banter I had with Connor. I couldn’t believe I was considering having a fake marriage and possibly the perks of a fake marriage.

  “I guess you’re right about one thing at least,” I muttered.

  “It sounds like you need a change in your dating life, and I know just the Irish lad to give it to you.”

  “If we go through with this crazy agreement. We need to discuss some ground rules,” I said, straightening in my chair. I couldn’t believe I was even discussing this, but he was going to keep bringing it up, and I was running out of reasons to say no. To be honest, it was one of the best opportunities I’d ever had, and I could turn this into a better life for myself and Nana. One where we wouldn’t have to always worry about bills or live paycheck to paycheck.

  A waitress brought two large plates full of sausages, beans, eggs, and brown bread. “Anything else I can get for you two?” she asked, looking between us.

  “That’ll be good for now. Thanks, ma’am,” Connor said, nodding at her.

  When she was out of earshot, he turned to me, picking up his fork. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t discuss rules while I’m starving. You should eat your bangers. Your dope-of-an-ex talk depressed me, so now I need to see my bird eat and actually smile.”

  I narrowed my eyes, and he smiled back, stuffing an egg in his mouth.

  “You’re a pain in the ass. Did you know that?” I asked, cutting one of the sausages.

  “My da used to say the same thing, but more like, ‘You’re a good lad, but you think it’s a gas to get a rise out of people,’” he said, deepening his accent, so he sounded like a cartoon leprechaun.

  I couldn’t help the laugh that spilled through my lips, and I had to cover my mouth so I didn’t spit bangers all over him.

  “You sound just like him. I mean, from the few times I saw him in the office,” I said.

  The smile wiped from his face, and he looked down at his plate. “When my brothers and I were young, we were always joking around. No matter how much work Da had, he would always take the time to play in the fields with us or lead us on an adventure when we were home from school. Even if it was just tossing the ball around in the back.”

  I put my hand on his, seeing the vulnerability in him for the first time. “Your dad was a good guy, from what little I knew of him.”

  He smirked. “Yeah. You met him when he was a cranky old man. But he still had a heart. I just wish I’d known how sick he was…”

  I squeezed his hand, thinking of how Jack had locked himself in his office when his father collapsed at home and he got the call that Mr. Murphy was ready to say goodbye. The other Murphy brothers rushed to Dublin, and for the first time, the pubs all over the world closed down so the employees could pay their respects.

  “Your father knew you cared about him. I’m sure of it.”

  Connor’s smile returned, and his eyes flitted to mine. “He would have liked me hanging out with you, an American girl who didn’t take my shit.”

  “So that’s what we are? Hanging out?” I quipped, raising my eyebrow. I had no real claim to him, but a twinge of sadness panged in my stomach. He just wanted to marry me to get his company, nothing else.

  “If you want me to ask you out properly as my girlfriend, you’re going to have to finish your bangers first. There’s no wasting food unless it’s a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich like I’ve seen you eating at your desk.”

  I wrinkled my nose, pulling my hand back and picking up my fork, though I found myself hiding a smile. I’d seen him in passing before we officially met in person, but I didn’t think he ever noticed me or my lunch for that matter. “No need to make fun of my food.”

  “If you had Cheetos in your lunch, we wouldn’t be having this talk,” he said, the smile returning to his face.

  “I’ll think about picking up a bag next time I’m at the store. If you’re lucky, I might even share them,” I said, not able to stop my smile this time.

  “Is this your way of being the one to ask me to be your fella? A proposal of Cheetos?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “But you’re thinking about it? Maybe we could even get a meal again. Get you out of your flat. I don’t know any late-night pizza restaurants around here, but I’m sure we could fin
d something you’ll fancy.”

  “Maybe we can,” I mused, taking a bite of my eggs. If I could sit across from Connor and talk so easily, then maybe, just maybe, the idea of a fake marriage could work. After all, it was only food and a six-month marriage commitment for money.

  …

  After stuffing our faces with brunch, we walked down the streets of Dublin, passing by flower sellers and people milling about.

  “So, why come here if you were never going to see the countryside anyway?” Connor asked, breaking out comfortable silence.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know many people around here to do anything with.”

  It was partially the truth. The other, more prominent part was the money. Nana’s semi-private room was over one-hundred-and-eighty dollars a day. Medicare paid for part of it, but not enough. I crunched some numbers the other day, and with my student loan payments, what I was paying for Nana’s room, and my living expenses, I was almost making a negative income. I was drowning, and Connor stood there with a lifeboat, holding his hand for me to get on.

  “Now you have me. No one should have to sit alone in their flat every night unless they’re enjoying the company of someone else,” he said with a laugh, his elbow bumping against mine.

  “We need to go back to these rules if I’m going to consider this,” I said, chewing on my bottom lip.

  He smirked, turning us toward a brick building that was open to the outside and filled with different fruit, vegetable, and flower vendors. “Okay, the first rule is that you gotta get rid of the American ex. That could easily go wayward if the board or anyone else saw all of his messages.”

  I nodded. Easiest rule yet, and a long time coming. “Okay. Consider that one already done.”

  He picked up a pot filled with shiny plastic four-leaf clovers and held them up to me. “Do you know what these are, Fallon?”

  “Are you about to pull your pants down in the middle of the market to show me your tattoos again?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  He shook his head. “Not this time, but I am going to talk to you about these clovers. The four leaves each stand for something.” He held a finger to each leaf as he spoke. “The first is for hope, the second for faith, the third for love and the fourth is for luck.”

  “Okay, um, that’s cool, I guess,” I said, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

  “When Da and Grandad started the company, he put the clover in the logo because we had to hope for the best, have faith that it would work out, and as long as we loved what we did, then we would always have luck on our side.”

  “That’s a good motto.” I nodded, still trying to figure out where he was going with this.

  “It’s how I’ve always tried to live my life, but I didn’t expect my da to pass so soon. I had faith that once I came back, Jack and I could take over the company, and with luck we would make it work. But with the inheritance clause, now I have to have faith that Da knew what he was doing. With luck, I ran into you after the will reading and figured the two of us could do this together. For the good of the company, and for whatever else you need.”

  “The money isn’t just for me if I do this… I need to know that it will all work out.”

  Connor nodded. “If we do this, you’ll walk away with all of that and more. We just have to make this believable for the board and my brothers.”

  “Believable in public, but not with sex,” I blurted, which caused stares and whispering from the old ladies in the flower booth.

  He smirked.

  “No sex for us, or for you with anyone else.” I took a step back. I wasn’t stupid and knew how real his reputation was.

  He blinked once then twice before nodding. “Okay. The same goes for you.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “So, we have a deal then? We’re courting?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I looked skyward, exhaling before I nodded. “Yes, Connor. We’re courting.”

  Chapter Five

  Connor

  I couldn’t sleep.

  Not just because I hated crashing on Jack’s couch and needed to get a flat of my own, but because I couldn’t stop thinking about my soon-to-be fake wife.

  This was supposed to just be an arrangement for the business, but the sassy American had my brain, and other parts of me, twisted.

  I’d never met anyone so selfless. Not only was she caring, charming, and of course beautiful, but I enjoyed hanging out with her. That’s what surprised me most of all.

  I went for a run to clear my head and ended up at the café near her flat. I walked out with two teas and some scones before I headed up the two flights of stairs to her place.

  The same home had belonged to every single one of Jack’s assistants, and none of them lasted more than three months. Fallon deserved not just a raise, but possibly a gold medal.

  After knocking, I waited, then knocked again before the door slowly opened.

  With her eyes half-mast and her blond hair matted, she poked her head out and put her glasses on. “What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Quarter till six, I believe. Perfect time for breakfast,” I said, holding out the bag of scones and her tea.

  “You’re lucky you brought food,” she grumbled before turning and walking inside, not even waiting for me before she opened the white bag, pulling out a scone.

  The flat was sparse, with white tiled floors and walls and a small kitchen that opened to the living room that doubled as a bedroom. But it was even more barren since Fallon has nothing for furniture but a desk made of crates and the twin bed that I believe the previous assistant left behind.

  “You can sit on my bed with me since I don’t have a chair to offer, but don’t get any ideas,” she said, her mouth full of food.

  She looked so small in her yellow striped pajama pants and an oversize shirt. My fists clenched at my sides as worry coursed through me. She had nothing. I knew her financial situation was bad, but not this dire. “Why don’t you have any furniture?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why spend money on things like a couch or chair when I won’t be here forever?”

  “So you can have somewhere to sit that isn’t your bed. What do you do when you have mates over?”

  She laughed, adding a cute little snort at the end before she took a sip of her tea. “One needs friends, or ‘mates’ as you call them, to invite over.”

  “Well, you have me, and I think you need proper seating. Until we move in together, that is.”

  She coughed, almost spitting out her drink before she sucked in a breath, staring at me with her hand on her chest. “Move in together?”

  “You don’t think we’re going to be married and I’ll still be sleeping on Jack’s couch, do you? I even thought of meeting with a real estate agent today, if you’d like to do some house hunting after work.” I took a few steps closer. “We’ll call these scones and tea date three, then house hunting and dinner dates four and five. That should be plenty for courtship if we post enough photos on social media. I see a ring in your future, Mrs. Murphy,” I said, grinning over my cup as I took a sip.

  “I’ll be hyphenating my name,” she muttered, stuffing a piece of scone in her mouth.

  “Like hell you will. Murphy is a traditional Irish name with years of history. You will not muddle it up with your American Smith.”

  She laughed. “You’re kind of cute when you’re angry. Your brother on the other hand, well, I don’t think Jack is going to be smiling when he finds out about all of this.”

  I crossed the room in a few short steps, setting my cup on the radiator before I put my hands on either side of her hips, leaning over her. “We can’t tell anyone about this. Do you understand? If word got out that this was all a ploy for the company, we’d both be up shite creek. I can only imagine the general distaste the board and my brothers would have, but the legal recourse could leave us both with nothing.”

  She gasped, her bottom lip trembling as h
er blue eyes met mine. “I don’t want any of that, either. I was just kidding.”

  Slowly I moved one hand, cupping her face and running my thumb along that lip. This was supposed to be just for the business. I wasn’t supposed to be getting close, and yet I couldn’t help my constant need to touch her. “Don’t worry, pinky. I think we got this.”

  I smiled, running my hand along her jawline before I tangled my fingers in her silky blond hair. What I wouldn’t give to have it splayed across my bed, her naked flesh across some satin sheets while I tasted every inch of her supple skin.

  No. No. No. I tightened my jaw, trying not to think about what I wanted from her at that moment. Maybe once the wedding was final, then we could have some fun. Now I had to keep my wits about me.

  An ear-piercing round of pings came from her computer, snapping me from my thoughts.

  “Oh. That’s, uh, my video message notification.” She sprang up, forcing me to move back and adjust my growing bulge before she leaned over her makeshift desk, pressing a few buttons.

  “Leah! What are you doing? It’s one in the morning!”

  I glanced over Fallon’s shoulder to see a small girl standing in a dimly lit area. Her black pixie cut and large brown eyes took up the entire screen.

  Fallon must have seen what I was doing because she stepped to the left, blocking my view of her friend and her view of me.

  “Yeah. Which is why I thought I’d be able to catch you on my way home. Okay, so really I was stopping by the nursing home to see if that tattooed male nurse still worked there. He doesn’t, by the way. Never called me back, either, that bastard.”

  “My nana’s nursing home?” Fallon asked, her voice rising slightly.