Insulated from irritation as he was by the warm
glow of his last conversation with his favorite chocolatier.
“I believe you
have a car ready for me,” he explained calmly. “Jack Miller?”
Her jaw
dropped so comically he had to bite on the inside of his lip to stop from smiling.
“Jack Miller?” She blinked.
“That’s me.”
He fished in the back pocket of his faded jeans for his driving license. A
graphite grey Aston Martin DBS V12 sat in splendid isolation at the front of
the showroom. “Is that it?”
“I’ll call Mr.
Murphy.”
She swiveled
on Cuban heels and disappeared. Jack strolled over to the two-door coupe,
running a loving hand over the car’s curves. Just like mine, even the same
color, Casino Ice .
A door
creaked, and then a balding middle-aged man appeared, hand outstretched. “Mr.
Miller. We were expecting you.”
“Mr. Murphy.”
His hand slid off the car’s sleek exterior.
“I have the
keys all ready for you.” Murphy’s grip was damp and limp. The sensation was
like holding a dead fish. Jack dropped it as soon as was polite. “Your
secretary has organized all the paperwork; it’s ready to drive away.”
The Aston was
perfect for the smooth unblemished streets of New York. Durna had no such
streets. The ride was harsh at the best of times over the country roads pitted
with potholes. Parked outside the pink house by the sea, the car would be an
oddity. He could only imagine the curious looks it would garner from the
locals. Annie was sensitive about people gossiping, and the Aston would
definitely be a talking point. Such a talking point the entire village would
make the pilgrimage.
“Maybe I won’t
take the Aston Martin.”
Murphy’s eyes
widened in shock. His mouth gaped and he looked so dismayed Jack almost
relented. Then an image of Annie filled his mind. She would be happier with
something less flashy. More practical. What would please Annie was a factor he
hadn’t had to consider when he ordered the Aston. Now, it was of major
importance. He stuck to his guns.
“It’s a
beautiful car, and I know you’ve gone to great lengths to get it for me. You
had to bring it in from your Dublin branch, I believe?”
“We did.”
Murphy crossed his hands over his chest. He still looked upset. As though
Jack’s rejection had struck him to the core.
“Well, I’m
more than happy to cover the extra expenses, but I’m going to need a more
conventional car.” His gaze settled on a dark blue BMW coupe. “How about the
BMW? Is it available?”
“It is.”
Murphy dropped his arms to his sides, recovering quickly from the shock of
having his baby rejected.
“I have a bit
of shopping to do, so I’ll fill in all the paperwork now, and then come and
collect it when I’ve finished.”
“Right.”
Jack dropped
into a local café for a cappuccino and a huge pain au chocolate, dunking it
like a kid. He still had a rake of things to do. A flood in the cabin had
destroyed his work suit. Tomorrow was Judgment Day. The day he’d finally meet
his grandmother. Although bruised inside by her lack of interest, there was no
way he would show it. Her neglect hadn’t damaged him. His hands clenched around
the cup, and he drained it rapidly. He was a success. He just needed to look
the part.
A pretty
waitress sidled over to clear the table.
“Hi.”
At his
greeting, her face flushed red, matching her hair.
“I need to
find a man’s shop, somewhere I can get a good suit. And a barber. Is there
anywhere around here?”
“Magill’s is
just around the corner,” she answered huskily. “You should be able to get
whatever you’re looking for in there. And the barber is a few shops down.” She
smiled, flirting. Jack was well aware of his effect on women. Hell, he’d had
them falling at his feet for years. None had cracked his veneer. Except Annie.
One kiss from her, and he’d shattered.
An hour later,
he was at the barber. He had a charcoal grey suit, shoes and all the
glow of his last conversation with his favorite chocolatier.
“I believe you
have a car ready for me,” he explained calmly. “Jack Miller?”
Her jaw
dropped so comically he had to bite on the inside of his lip to stop from smiling.
“Jack Miller?” She blinked.
“That’s me.”
He fished in the back pocket of his faded jeans for his driving license. A
graphite grey Aston Martin DBS V12 sat in splendid isolation at the front of
the showroom. “Is that it?”
“I’ll call Mr.
Murphy.”
She swiveled
on Cuban heels and disappeared. Jack strolled over to the two-door coupe,
running a loving hand over the car’s curves. Just like mine, even the same
color, Casino Ice .
A door
creaked, and then a balding middle-aged man appeared, hand outstretched. “Mr.
Miller. We were expecting you.”
“Mr. Murphy.”
His hand slid off the car’s sleek exterior.
“I have the
keys all ready for you.” Murphy’s grip was damp and limp. The sensation was
like holding a dead fish. Jack dropped it as soon as was polite. “Your
secretary has organized all the paperwork; it’s ready to drive away.”
The Aston was
perfect for the smooth unblemished streets of New York. Durna had no such
streets. The ride was harsh at the best of times over the country roads pitted
with potholes. Parked outside the pink house by the sea, the car would be an
oddity. He could only imagine the curious looks it would garner from the
locals. Annie was sensitive about people gossiping, and the Aston would
definitely be a talking point. Such a talking point the entire village would
make the pilgrimage.
“Maybe I won’t
take the Aston Martin.”
Murphy’s eyes
widened in shock. His mouth gaped and he looked so dismayed Jack almost
relented. Then an image of Annie filled his mind. She would be happier with
something less flashy. More practical. What would please Annie was a factor he
hadn’t had to consider when he ordered the Aston. Now, it was of major
importance. He stuck to his guns.
“It’s a
beautiful car, and I know you’ve gone to great lengths to get it for me. You
had to bring it in from your Dublin branch, I believe?”
“We did.”
Murphy crossed his hands over his chest. He still looked upset. As though
Jack’s rejection had struck him to the core.
“Well, I’m
more than happy to cover the extra expenses, but I’m going to need a more
conventional car.” His gaze settled on a dark blue BMW coupe. “How about the
BMW? Is it available?”
“It is.”
Murphy dropped his arms to his sides, recovering quickly from the shock of
having his baby rejected.
“I have a bit
of shopping to do, so I’ll fill in all the paperwork now, and then come and
collect it when I’ve finished.”
“Right.”
Jack dropped
into a local café for a cappuccino and a huge pain au chocolate, dunking it
like a kid. He still had a rake of things to do. A flood in the cabin had
destroyed his work suit. Tomorrow was Judgment Day. The day he’d finally meet
his grandmother. Although bruised inside by her lack of interest, there was no
way he would show it. Her neglect hadn’t damaged him. His hands clenched around
the cup, and he drained it rapidly. He was a success. He just needed to look
the part.
A pretty
waitress sidled over to clear the table.
“Hi.”
At his
greeting, her face flushed red, matching her hair.
“I need to
find a man’s shop, somewhere I can get a good suit. And a barber. Is there
anywhere around here?”
“Magill’s is
just around the corner,” she answered huskily. “You should be able to get
whatever you’re looking for in there. And the barber is a few shops down.” She
smiled, flirting. Jack was well aware of his effect on women. Hell, he’d had
them falling at his feet for years. None had cracked his veneer. Except Annie.
One kiss from her, and he’d shattered.
An hour later,
he was at the barber. He had a charcoal grey suit, shoes and all the
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