outside, they parted, Bree to step into her shop next door to Sally’s, then Shanna into hers a few feet down the block. Heather walked the rest of the way with Moira.
“Have we helped or only terrified you more?”
“You’ve truly helped,” Moira said, thinking of her relief at the discovery that in a family of so many overachievers, she wasn’t so far behind the pace, after all. She wondered if Luke had seen the same thing about himself. Maybe when things settled down a bit, she could reassure him about that. Because after this morning, she was pretty sure it was true that the only person putting pressure on him to succeed was himself.
Luke had just taped the last piece of protective brown paper over the windows when he spotted Moira and Heather on the sidewalk outside. He stepped out to join them, looking anxiously toward Moira to see if she looked dazed. To his surprise, she looked happier than usual.
“What on earth was on the menu at Sally’s that has you looking so cheerful?” he asked after Heather had gone.
“Serious girl talk,” she confided.
“About me?”
“No, about them. It was a revelation. I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but right now, I want to go inside and see this pub of yours.”
Luke hesitated. “You understand that it’s not finished, right? The bar we picked out isn’t in place yet, and the tables and chairs haven’t been delivered. Nor have the china and glassware. It’s still pretty much a work in progress. I’ve only a battered table and chair in what will be my office.”
She touched his lips to silence him. “Would you honestly rather I wait to see it?”
He drew in a deep breath, then shook his head. “No, now is good.”
“Then why do you sound so terrified that I’ll judge it and find it lacking?”
He didn’t want to mention Kristen’s dismissive attitude. It would imply that her opinion carried weight with him. Somehow, though, Moira saw through his silence.
“Has someone seen it and criticized?” she asked.
Since he didn’t want to start off with a lie that could eventually come back to bite him in the butt, he nodded.
“Let me guess. It was that woman, the one who came to Ireland. Though I’d only a glimpse of her once, she struck me as the type to prefer a sophisticated martini bar to a congenial pub.”
Luke regarded her with astonishment. “How on earth did you figure that out, after only seeing her once? I don’t think I caught on that quickly.”
“Because you were thinking with something other than your brain, I imagine,” she said dryly. “I’m not Kristen. Let’s establish that now and let me inside, okay?”
Luke smiled at her display of attitude. Maybe it covered a bit of insecurity, maybe not, but he decided to go with his gut. He held open the door. “After you. Stop just inside and let me find you a hard hat. The crew’s at work, and there’s no telling what kind of debris could be flying around.”
As soon as they were inside with the door locked securely behind them, Luke started to step away to grab a couple of hard hats, but Moira reached for his hand and kept him in place.
“Luke, it’s amazing,” she whispered, awe in her voice.
He tried to see it as she saw it, but all he noted was the unpainted drywall only now being taped, the bare lighting awaiting the brass fixtures he’d chosen and a wooden floor covered by layers of sawdust and cluttered with construction tools.
“You’re just saying that because you think it’s what I need to hear,” he chided.
“Nonsense! Look at it. The bar’s going across the back, right? Remember, I’ve seen it. It’ll be amazing there with that huge old mirror catching glimpses of the sea on a sunny day. Can you show me pictures of the tables you’ve chosen? And what about the china? I want to see that, too. Is the kitchen finished?”
He laughed at the flurry of questions, the genuine excitement in her voice. “The kitchen is about the only thing we didn’t
“Have we helped or only terrified you more?”
“You’ve truly helped,” Moira said, thinking of her relief at the discovery that in a family of so many overachievers, she wasn’t so far behind the pace, after all. She wondered if Luke had seen the same thing about himself. Maybe when things settled down a bit, she could reassure him about that. Because after this morning, she was pretty sure it was true that the only person putting pressure on him to succeed was himself.
Luke had just taped the last piece of protective brown paper over the windows when he spotted Moira and Heather on the sidewalk outside. He stepped out to join them, looking anxiously toward Moira to see if she looked dazed. To his surprise, she looked happier than usual.
“What on earth was on the menu at Sally’s that has you looking so cheerful?” he asked after Heather had gone.
“Serious girl talk,” she confided.
“About me?”
“No, about them. It was a revelation. I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but right now, I want to go inside and see this pub of yours.”
Luke hesitated. “You understand that it’s not finished, right? The bar we picked out isn’t in place yet, and the tables and chairs haven’t been delivered. Nor have the china and glassware. It’s still pretty much a work in progress. I’ve only a battered table and chair in what will be my office.”
She touched his lips to silence him. “Would you honestly rather I wait to see it?”
He drew in a deep breath, then shook his head. “No, now is good.”
“Then why do you sound so terrified that I’ll judge it and find it lacking?”
He didn’t want to mention Kristen’s dismissive attitude. It would imply that her opinion carried weight with him. Somehow, though, Moira saw through his silence.
“Has someone seen it and criticized?” she asked.
Since he didn’t want to start off with a lie that could eventually come back to bite him in the butt, he nodded.
“Let me guess. It was that woman, the one who came to Ireland. Though I’d only a glimpse of her once, she struck me as the type to prefer a sophisticated martini bar to a congenial pub.”
Luke regarded her with astonishment. “How on earth did you figure that out, after only seeing her once? I don’t think I caught on that quickly.”
“Because you were thinking with something other than your brain, I imagine,” she said dryly. “I’m not Kristen. Let’s establish that now and let me inside, okay?”
Luke smiled at her display of attitude. Maybe it covered a bit of insecurity, maybe not, but he decided to go with his gut. He held open the door. “After you. Stop just inside and let me find you a hard hat. The crew’s at work, and there’s no telling what kind of debris could be flying around.”
As soon as they were inside with the door locked securely behind them, Luke started to step away to grab a couple of hard hats, but Moira reached for his hand and kept him in place.
“Luke, it’s amazing,” she whispered, awe in her voice.
He tried to see it as she saw it, but all he noted was the unpainted drywall only now being taped, the bare lighting awaiting the brass fixtures he’d chosen and a wooden floor covered by layers of sawdust and cluttered with construction tools.
“You’re just saying that because you think it’s what I need to hear,” he chided.
“Nonsense! Look at it. The bar’s going across the back, right? Remember, I’ve seen it. It’ll be amazing there with that huge old mirror catching glimpses of the sea on a sunny day. Can you show me pictures of the tables you’ve chosen? And what about the china? I want to see that, too. Is the kitchen finished?”
He laughed at the flurry of questions, the genuine excitement in her voice. “The kitchen is about the only thing we didn’t
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