He laughs. “What’s your first memory?”
I puff my cheeks on an exhale as I think. “Looking into the cold dark lens of a camera after somersaulting. I wanted to show my parents, but they—” They caught it on film like everything else. Granted, we were on the set ofFriends of the Family.
Declan’s face falls as if he senses my loneliness. “First job?”
“Honey Holiday,” I blurt because there’s no holding back now.
“Is that like a sweets shop or a doughnut place?”
I grunt. “Not quite. How about you?”
“Football.”
“Football as a profession, but back up. What was your first job before that?” I ask, relieved to shift the focus off myself.
“When I was a hooligan on the streets of Dublin, no one would hire me. When I got to Boston, Aunt Maureen scheduled me to have an interview for locker cleaning duty at the Bruiser’s stadium.” He leans in. “No joke, I’d never even seen an American football game. I was loyal to the true and rightful national sport of my home country. You would call it soccer. I call it football. Some people call me a traitor.” He laughs again. “How many matches did I sneak into? All of them. Served me right to be cleaning toilets in the locker room of the best football team in the world—even if it was the other kind of football.”
“God certainly has a sense of humor.” I go on to tell him about some of my recent jobs, which were only slightly more glamorous than cleaning locker rooms. I leave off the part about my riches to just short of rags story because my childhood was the opposite of his in many ways.
“I want to hear what being Cinderella was like.” Declan’s voice is soft, providing me with an opening to spill the “Spill.”
“I really could’ve used a fairy godmother.”
“That bad?”
“After all was said and done, I’d much rather visit the park than work there. My dip in the fountain kind of took the magic out of things.”
Our bowls are soon empty, but we remain at the table, heads almost together, talking for a long time before moving to the living room, where Declan stokes the fire and then drops onto the sofa, where he angles to face me. He picks up each of my hands, inspecting them. “I see that you’re not wearing a ring. Is there anyone special in your life?”
I squawk a laugh.
“Why is that funny?”
“First of all, if that were the case, you’d know. But who’d want to date me?”
Declan’s eyebrows shoot up and his mouth falls open. “Who wouldn’t? You’re beautiful, smart, confident—apparently, except when it comes to your date-ability.”
My cheeks heat. “Declan, who’d want to date a woman who can barely keep a job and who—” I want to say more, but hold back. I can’t tell him about my family—it’s a stretch to even call them that—and the infamy I’ve tried to live down. “I dated a little, but mostly I’ve been single. I do better with friendships.”
“Lucky for me,” he says. “So, no one notable?”
I squish up my face. “Let’s say there have been some disasters. Have you ever heard of Sly the Single Guy?” I wince because I’m still a resident of embarrassment-burg. Not enough time has passed for me to laugh off the epic mistake.
“Yeah, he had a popular YouTube channel about being a bachelor.” The pinch of confusion around Declan’s eyes smooths with recognition. “You dated him? Seriously? How would that work if he was a single guy?”
I draw a deep breath and then exhale. With it escapes the entirety of the story I’ve barely shared with anyone—not even Etta Jo. “You know that I don’t pay much attention to social media and pop culture, so I didn’t know who he was besides Sylvester. Things got more serious and we collaborated on a mobile cupcake shop. I bought the van and everything. It was my entire savings. I even considered living in it if I had to, but with the oven and everything, I wasn’t sure I’d fit.” I smile at the bittersweet memory. I’d been so eager to make my endeavor work.
“I vaguely remember you telling me about opening a cupcake shop on wheels.”
“This was during the playoffs, so you were preoccupied.”
“What happened? Why aren’t you a mobile cupcake shop queen?” Declan asks.
“Sylvester said he believed in my success and wanted to partner. He was supposedly investing his half of the funds to get it outfitted to work like a food truck, but with cupcakes.” I smile because I’d been so excited. “I had big plans to cater to people in the parking lots at various theme parks, waiting in lines for the buses, and so on. Maybe even at football games.”
“That’s a cool idea.”
“Sylvester took the van one day and disappeared.”
