‘Well now .?.?. I—’ he mutters to himself, strokes his jaw.
‘Okay, we are getting nowhere here and I’m really busy. You don’t strike me as the type who owns a Rolls-Royce but let’s swap details.’ I rush on, babbling nonsense in a high pitch, still unable to get these emotions of mine under control.
‘Yeah, well it’s mine. I don’t look like I’d own a Rolls-Royce?’ But his tone drops. ‘Don’t I look worthy of such a fine set of wheels, Your Highness?’ It’s more serious all of a sudden.
‘No, I don’t know, I suppose I expected .?.?.’ I look at him, flick my hair over my shoulder.
‘What, did you think I rode a cow? Or perhaps I had a pony and trap?’ he pulls himself back and asks a little too sarcastically this time. I’m not sure why, but I feel like I have suddenly pissed him off and I don’t like the feeling.
‘I don’t have time for this, I’m on a deadline,’ I tell him, breathing heavily, feeling a little upset now.
‘That’s the problem with you Americans, no time for things that really matter.’ Still, he leans on his arm, his voice sounding serious. He crosses one leg over the other again as though he’s all the time in the world to keep this conversation going.
‘Get a grip. What are you on about?You Americans. Please don’t generalise and be so rude and insulting to my country,’ I say with real passion now as Red circles me again, then jumps up on me, his long legs leaving paw prints on my green wool coat.
‘Red!’ He slaps his leg again. ‘And I didn’t mean all Americans. Red, down, boy! This is so unusual. Red likes no one but me,’ he admits in his low, lilting, Irish accent.
‘Red needs to get out more,’ I retort, but notice now he’s fighting a smile back again. This Irish man might be drop dead gorgeous but I just want to escape him and take a cold shower.
‘A sassy American girl,’ he sing-songs but this gets my back up too.
‘Please don’t call megirl. Now, can I give you my insurance details, please? I can’t stand here all day.’
‘This way, Your Highness.’ He pushes himself off the wall, extends his hand and I brush past him. His sharp cologne lingers as I strut past the crackling fire, stop at the reception desk. I rest my MacBook on top, flick it open and find the Word doc Phoebe sent me with my insurance number and provider saved to my desktop.
‘Mary, will you take them details down?’ he asks the older receptionist. ‘I’ll have to go and cancel the advertisement in theHeartwell Gazettefor the car before they charge me.’
Mary nods. ‘We’ll be grand, lad. Terry can look at it. But I’ll phone down to the garage first thing in the morning just in case it’s more serious,’ Mary calls after him as he retreats, approaching a woman walking with a cane. He links her free arm with his. I see her smile warmly up at him.
‘Come on, boy,’ he calls back to the dog who is now sitting at my feet, looking up adoringly at me, long pink tongue panting.
‘Let me just take your details, lovey,’ Mary says. ‘His bark is worse than his bite.’
‘Red’s?’ I ask, my heart rate still hopping up and down.
Mary laughs. ‘Dan’s.’
‘Well, I think Dan is a bit of a jerk.’ I say to her with a roll of my eyes.
‘Ah, one thing Dan Delaney is not, is a jerk. He’s under fierce pressure, that’s all. He was selling the Rolls-Royce to help pay for .?.?. ah look, like I said, he’s a good lad, just stressed,’ Mary tells me, tapping my insurance details into her system.
‘If you say so,’ I say with disbelief rolling around my words.
‘Now, welcome to Castlemoon.’ Mary hands me a small glass from a silver tray on the desk, with a golden liquid inside. ‘We’vebeen expecting you.’
‘What is this?’ I smell the alcohol before I taste it. My eyes water from the fumes. I feel more alive than I have done in years. Normally I’d absolutely refuse a drink I was unfamiliar with, I’m not exactly a shots person, but right now I feel adventurous.
‘It’s HeartGoose, a welcome drink. Brewed right here in Heartwell village, it will put the heat into ya,’ Mary tells me. ‘If ya were a fella, I’d tell ya it’ll put hairs on yer chest but yer not so, ya probably don’t want hairs there.’ Mary chuckles and it’s infectious so I laugh too and knock back the drink, hoping to steady my wildly beating heart.
I embrace the silence for a moment after the chaos of that interaction. The sharp drink works its way down to the tips of my toes, heating my insides beautifully as it travels, calming me almost instantly. A warm flush comes over my entire body.
‘Here we are. Maggie Grace,Ultimate Locations Wedding Magazine.’Mary glances up swiftly before her fingers dance over the keys. She slides her chair back on its wheels to remove a large key fob from a hook on the brick wall. ‘There ye are now. Room nine, great view of the grounds. Breakfast and dinner are in the Sweet Orange Room from seven until ten daily. Are you with us for dinner?’
‘No, but can I book in for tonight, if I’m not too late?’ I ask hopefully, my stomach sensing the words and rumbling. Noticing now my feet and back feel sore after the tense drive from Dublin to Galway, I ask, ‘I don’t suppose you have any appointments for a massage tomorrow?’
‘Not unless you want me to do it for ya. We don’t have a spa here, I’m afraid. An hour okay for dinner?’ Mary says to me without consulting her computer.
‘Perfect. I’m absolutely famished, I could smell cooking from outside. I’m surprised you don’t offer spa treatments, it’s such a major part of hotel bookings these days. Self-care, especially forwedding parties?’ I tell Mary.
