“I’m fine,” I choked out, and met his calm, amused eyes. “I’ll—” I thumbed over my shoulder, turned, and fled.
* * *
By the timeTeo had dressed and we were on our way downstairs, I’d managed to recover my poise. Teo, at least, didn’t make a big deal out of my barging into his bathroom. He seemed content to either pretend I hadn’t done anything weird, or he really thought I hadn’t.
I was glad I’d worn my dress pants when we finally found the front room again. Tara was already there, dressed in a pale gold sheath that made her red hair seem even more vivid. Gio and Hudson were dressed similarly to me, and there was another redhead—her hair much shorter, almost unruly in close curls over her head—who was in a simple, chaste, but elegant high-necked black dress.
“This is Róisín, Father,” Tara introduced me. “She’s a novice with the Poor Clares, though she’s been staying here with me for the last week.” I wondered for a moment how and why she had received permission to leave her closed Order, but put it out of my mind as Róisín offered her hand. “Róisín, this is Father Aidan O’Leary.”
“Pleased to meet you, Father,” Róisín said as we shook. She was taller than Tara and even paler, or the black dress made her seem that way.
“Oh, I’m not—I haven’t been ordained yet,” I said, stumbling over my words as it occurred to me that soon I would never say them again. “That’s why I’m here in Boston, actually. My ordination is next Sunday. Anyway, just ‘Aidan’ is fine.”
“I do beg your pardon,” Tara said. “Howie always calls you a priest, so I assumed—”
“No,” I said wryly. “I’m afraid that’s just his nickname for me. Priest Boy.”
“Howie really is terrible,” Róisín said, and it seemed to me that she meant it.
“He’s my best friend,” I said, lifting my head a little. “So really, I don’t mind at all.”
Róisín raised one auburn brow. Tara seemed to smother a grin. “Will you have a drink, Aidan?” she asked, turning away quickly to the drinks cart.
“No, thank you, I—”
“Give him Pops’ special whiskey,” Finch said loudly, entering the room. “If anyone deserves it, it’s Aidan.”
He was dressed in what I assumed was black tie, only somewhat unraveled. His bowtie was loose, slung around his neck, and the top few buttons of his pleated dress shirt were undone. Yet somehow, he was perfectly dressed for the occasion.
I couldn’t help smiling back at him. “Alright,” I said. “As long as Teo can have some, too. He’s really the one who deserves it after yesterday.”
Teo made a motion with his hand. “On duty,” he said. “And not that big on whiskey, sorry.”
“First of all,” Finch said, taking the bottle from Tara and pouring a second tumbler, “you don’t need to be on duty tonight. If anyone gets into this house, they’re gonna have a ways to go before they get anywhere near Aidan. You’ve earned a fucking drink, my dude.” He handed the tumbler to Teo, who took it and stared suspiciously at it. “And second, once you taste this, you’ll realize what whiskey issupposedto taste like. And you’ll be ruined for all the rest, but since you don’t like it anyway…” Finch raised an expectant eyebrow.
Teo took a sip. He nodded. “It’s good.”
“Good?”
“Leave the poor man alone, angel,” Luca sighed, coming in behind him. Luca was not quite as formal as Finch, but his midnight-blue dinner jacket made his eyes seem warmer.Slightlywarmer.
Tara took the bottle back from Finch and poured out a glass for everyone else there. She raised hers once we all had them, and said, “Sláinte.” I repeated the familiar Irish toast and tried the whiskey.
Itwasvery good. And it took away with it the last of my embarrassment over Teo, or rather, my reaction to his naked form. It was hardly unexpected, after all. Quite a natural reaction. And if he’d even noticed, perhaps he’d simply been flattered.
* * *
Dinner was cookedand served by house staff that I hadn’t noticed before. We ate in the formal dining room, with Tara at the head of the table and Finch at the foot. Privately I wondered if she had placed him there on purpose, perhaps in an attempt to keep him at a metaphorical as well as physical distance.
Teo and Gio Carlucci both hesitated when Tara Donovan asked them to join us at the table, looking to Luca for instruction. He gave a quick nod, and they took their seats.
Róisín, who was seated opposite me, leaned forward. “I wanted to tell you, Aidan, there’s a prayer space on the top floor, the attic room. Please feel free to use it.”
“Thank you,” I said, surprised.
“It was our mother’s space,” Róisín continued. “She encouraged the whole family to use it.”
“Inever did,” Finch said with a grin.
