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Authors: Reina M. Williams

Certain Sure (10 page)

BOOK: Certain Sure
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“Not at all. I enjoy knowing you’re here. Where’s Katie?”

 

“Pat was in an accident. He’s bruised up and has a cast on one leg, but they think he’ll be okay. I drove Katie up to the hospital. She’s spending the night with Mavis at the hotel.”

 

“Oh my. What a birthday for Mavis. And Pat on crutches. It will be a long summer for those three.”

 

Fin smiled. Mrs. Knight sure knew about people. “I’ll be managing the pub for Pat.”

 

“You’ll need Katie,” Mrs. Knight said.

 

“I’ll get by.” He poured paint into the tray and went to work on the far wall. He’d already primed and prepared everything.

 

“Don’t work too late, now. Even you Dunbar men need sleep.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Fin said.

 

Mrs. Knight laughed and blew him a kiss. Soon the sticky sweep of the roller brush kept time for Fin along with the crickets’ chirp. The repetitive motion dulled his mind. When he finished the large wall, he cleaned the brush and tray and stored it all away again. He needed to move in as soon as possible. Trudging across the street, he yawned. Strictly work and sleep would keep him from noticing the ache, or at least too tired to care how he felt.

 

In the shower the next morning, he stood in front of the spray, letting the water splash on his face. Stretching, he faced away and yawned. Mavis had called half an hour ago, waking him up. He’d stubbed his toe running for the phone in Katie’s room. They’d be on their way soon since Pat was being released from the hospital. Michael had visited them in the hospital earlier. Fin had waited for Mavis to hang up before he slammed the phone into the hook.

 

Fin would be at the pub by the time they returned. He’d allowed himself a last glance of Katie’s room before heading to the bathroom. She was orderly, too organized, yet the walls were painted a whimsical blue and the furniture didn’t match, except it had all been painted white. Fin knew there was more to Katie than he’d thought, not that he’d ever given her much notice before.

 

Her shampoo and body wash occupied the little alcove in the wall. He sniffed them then shoved them back. Roses, clover, fresh dewy grass, soapy clean smells, sweet and pure, like her. She liked to take long baths, probably bubble baths. With no one around, she’d poof the bubbles around and giggle. Then she’d relax, floating, her perky breasts peeking out of the foam. Fin cursed and twisted the water to cold. He shouted and finished rinsing before jumping out. Everyone would be angry with him if he kept messing around with Katie, even his mom and Fergus. Soon, he’d move out and she’d probably move away. All he had to do was avoid her until then.

 

“Fin,” Mike, the cook at the pub, said after a slammed lunch hour, “can’t you get Katie down here to help?”

 

“Sally’ll be back tomorrow,” Fin said as he helped restock. “We’ll manage.”

 

“No offense, but Katie knows her stuff. She’s worked here almost all her life and I’m sure you know we’re short-handed.”

 

“My understanding is she’s planning on moving out of town, finding a job somewhere else.”

 

“Best hire someone then before Pat gets back.”

 

“Seems he does a good job staffing,” Fin said. “Most of you’ve been with him since the beginning, right?”

 

“Yep. But lately he’s practically chasing ‘em out the door. Thinking maybe he wants an excuse for Katie to stay. ‘Course he won’t ever ask her.”

 

“I’ll get an ad out.”

 

“Best talk to Mavis first,” Mike said.

 

Fin nodded and strode into the office down the hall. It took a long time for people to accept change, especially a new boss. Mike, Sally, Jim, and the other long-timers at the pub probably figured Fin was only passing through. The phone rang when he opened the office door. It was Mavis.

 

“How’s Pat?” Fin asked.

 

“He’ll live. Hates the crutches. How’re things there?”

 

“Okay,” Fin said. “I think we need to hire a couple new waitstaff.”

 

“And someone who can cover for you, Fin. You can’t sustain the kind of hours you’ve been working,” Mavis said.

 

“Don’t worry about me. What papers do you usually run ads in?”

 

“I’ll tell Katie to come down there tomorrow. Usually in summer business slows down a little with school out. She can be there around four, after I get out of school. This is the last week before summer break.”

 

“But--” He couldn’t be trusted around Katie.

 

“Fin, take a close look at things. Let Katie help for now.”

 

“As you say,” Fin said. He wasn’t a partner, yet. Maybe he’d missed something in the books. “You take care.”

 

Mavis said the same and hung up as Pat shouted in the background. Mrs. Knight was right. They’d be in for some summer.

 

By the time Fin arrived at the Dillons’ that night, it was already the next morning. The house, darkened and quiet, creaked in answer to Fin’s shoeless footsteps. He went into the bathroom then crashed into bed, only bothering to take off his shirt first.

 

The next morning, he showered and changed. He listened at the top of the stairs; distant clatter sounded from the kitchen, Katie at work.

 

“Fin, that you, lad?” Pat called from his bedroom at the end of the hall.

 

Fin walked in. Pat sat in a chair by the window, his leg propped on a small needlepoint footstool. “How are ya?”

 

“Ahh,” Pat said in a dismissive tone. “Told Katie to come help you. She gives you any trouble, you tell me.”

 

“It’ll be fine. But shouldn’t we advertise? Isn’t she--”

 

“Mavis wants her to stay. As long as Katie toes the line, should be all right.”

 

Fin nodded. Mavis wasn’t the only one who wanted Katie around. “Gotta check a few things at the cottage. Then I’ll be off.”

 

“Good. I know you’ll keep everything right.” Pat settled back into the wing chair and flapped the paper in front of his face.

 

Fin’s father used to do the same, but only after blasting him for some failing. Never because he’d entrusted Fin with what mattered and could relax knowing Fin would succeed. Fin wouldn’t let Pat down again.

 

Katie didn’t bother to check in with him that afternoon. When he poked his head into the kitchen before the dinner hour, there she was, laughing and chopping vegetables with Mike. Tuesdays were slow, but Fin tended bar all evening while Katie stayed in the kitchen or office, so he didn’t see more than a few glimpses of her. She worked hard then she was gone, her scent lingering briefly in the office, her image shimmering before him like the elusive rainbow’s end. He could go looking for it, but would only find another sunlight spot, bright yet devoid of magic.

 

Wednesday morning he painted the bedroom of the cottage. If it was the same sky blue of Katie’s room, it was a coincidence. Blue was a popular color. And the white ragged around the windows to look like clouds as in her room, well, he liked that too. Tomorrow his new bed would be delivered and he’d pick up some furniture and dishes from his mom. He could move in on Friday. Saturday was Katie’s birthday. Three nights with her at the pub might be all he had. His mother used to tell him an Irish fairy tale in which the prince wins his lady with persistence and focus after three days. Only Rose would believe such a tale now. He knew better. Besides, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get married. He needed the pub, though, and when Pat retired Fin would want a partner.

 

Fin entered the kitchen that evening when he saw Katie. But he didn’t talk to her since she frowned at him. Maybe Pat was right, she was a moody lass. The women who came into the bar were much more friendly, smiling and flirting with him. He played along. He knew his role of charming Irish barman well.

 

After closing, he exhaled and stretched as he walked to the office. When he opened the door, Katie started and quickly zipped her large tote bag shut. She’d been carrying it the last couple nights when usually she had a small purse. Her eyes went to the door and her body tensed. She couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with him. Moving to the desk, he watched her huddle toward the wall as she walked out. He shook his head. He loved women, but they were impossible to understand. Before Katie, the mystery hadn’t bothered him. Now she shadowed him, her whisperings informing his every move.

 

“You’ve done a wonderful job,” Mrs. Knight told him the next afternoon. They surveyed the cottage.

 

Jim and Sally were covering for him at the pub. Fin had risen early, taken a cab to a car dealership in Redwood City, bought a small pickup truck, drove to his parents’, had a late breakfast with his mom, packed furniture from the attic, and brought it to the cottage, where Mrs. Knight supervised the guys from the mattress store, who’d arrived while he was out. Mrs. Knight had a meeting, so Fin worked alone arranging the small sofa, table and chairs, storing dishes, glasses, pots and pans in the kitchen cabinets, hanging curtains Maggie’d made, and making the bed. When he peered out the door, Katie’s car was gone from the Dillons’ driveway. Fin strolled over to pick up his suitcases.

 

“Fin, how’s business?” Pat called from the living room as Fin jogged upstairs.

 

He walked into the bright room where Pat sat playing checkers with Mr. Drew from down the street. Fin had met most of the neighbors now. “Fine. Mavis says you’re recovering well.”

 

“Suppose so,” Pat said.

 

“I’ve come to get my things. The cottage is all ready. Thanks again for letting me stay.”

 

“Our pleasure. Don’t be a stranger. We’re neighbors now. And hopefully I’ll be back at the pub soon. How’s Katie doin’?”

 

“Fine. She’s a good worker.” Fin blew out a breath.

 

Pat nodded and made a move in his game. Fin waved to the two men and trudged upstairs.

 

When Fin arrived at the pub, Katie was bent over the desk in the office, her shapely rear drawing his attention. Though Fin had been ready to beat the crap out of that guy for touching Katie, he couldn’t really blame him for grabbing such a sight. He’d done it himself when given the chance. Glancing at the ceiling, he willed himself to think of something unpleasant, like moldy drywall.

 

“Hello,” Katie said as she faced him. “You’ve done well organizing the office.”

 

“Thanks,” he said. Words swirled in his mind, moving too fast to grab. His palms moistened. He needed a drink. Shit, he had to work. “Better get out there,” he said.

 

Katie nodded before he rushed out into the buzz of the bar.

 

Her eyes didn’t smile at him anymore. But maybe it had never been for him, but only because of Rose. Maybe it had been rebound sex, or some kind of twisted revenge on Michael. His stomach clenched. Other women’s eyes twinkled for him, but they weren’t Katie. He grinned at them and flirted, but it was all part of the game. He was weary of playing. Chuckling at another batted eyelash as he poured a drink, Fin inched taller. It was time to stop fooling about and be a man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

 

“I hope you’ll get some sleep this weekend. You look tired,” Fin said as they closed the pub on Friday night. It was the longest sentence he’d spoken to Katie since their drive up to see her parents at the hospital on Sunday evening.

 

“Thanks a lot,” Katie said, her skin prickling in irritation. “I don’t think you’ve been getting much sleep either. Though whether it’s from work or play, I’m not sure.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fin said as he checked behind the bar while Katie swept.

 

“What do you think? Anyone can see you’re a great favorite with the ladies.”

 

“Not all. Why don’t you go home? I can finish here. Have a good birthday.”

 

“Thanks. My dad said I could take the day off tomorrow.”

 

“Of course,” Fin said. He sounded so business-like and mature. Not like Fin.

 

Katie snuck in back. Now would be the perfect opportunity to take the account book and vendor lists. She only needed this last one to finish her project. As she walked out of the office, she heard Fin’s deep voice raised in song.

 

“’…I pray each day, that I’ll hear some word from you…’”

 

Katie softened and tiptoed to the open doorway to listen. With a start, Fin noticed her, and stopped.

 

“Christ, Katie, I thought you’d gone.”

 

“You have a wonderful voice. What were you singing?”

 

“It’s from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s ‘Cinderella.’”

 

“Where’d you learn that?”

 

“My mom loves their shows. I was the only one in the family who’d watch them with her. The songs have stayed in my head,” he said. He walked around the room, checking everything, turning off the lights. He stood in front of her. Katie forced her gaze over his shoulder.

 

“I better go,” she said.

 

“Okay.” He shrugged. She traced the line of his strong shoulders with her eyes.

 

Katie turned and walked to the back door. Once she stood on the other side, she stopped. Thank God she didn’t have to come in tomorrow. Being so close to Fin was too dangerous. She hit her leg. How was she going to put the book back? She’d have to sneak in tomorrow morning and slip it back into the desk before Fin noticed. Sighing, she walked to her car.

BOOK: Certain Sure
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