‘Possibly an American.’
‘What?’
‘That’s where he was today, meeting an American for a business date.’
Morgan scrunched up her nose. ‘I’m not sure about that. What if this American wanted to make the pub all commercialised?’
‘Unfortunately, you wouldn’t get a say in it. Once you sign the contract and hand over the key, the new owners can do whatever they want with the place.’
Morgan’s face fell. ‘Oh well. As much as it would pain me, whatever is best for your father is my only concern—I made a promise to your mother that I’d look after him and I’m not about to break it. If it wasn’t for your parents taking me in and giving me a job after Bren’s sudden passing all those decades ago, I don’t know what I would have done. They were different times back then. You didn’t get as much help from the government as you do today.’ She placed her hand over Pippa’s and squeezed. ‘Come on. Let’s finish up before we drop. We can discuss Oliver’spossibleinterest if he decides to put in an offer when the pub goes up for sale. Until then, let’s not worry ourselves about it.’
***
Pippa was already inthe kitchen making the preparations for the evening meals when Oliver popped his head around the door. ‘Morgan tells me you were all rushed off your feet at lunchtime.’
Pippa looked up from what she was doing and tried to keep the annoyance from her face. ‘Yes, it knocked my dad about. His arthritis still hasn’t settled down... Good meeting was it?’
The furrow in Oliver’s brow ironed out, turning his face expressionless as he nodded. ‘Yes. Definitely worth the effort. I just wished it could have been held in the hours the pub was closed.’ Pippa remained silent and looked back down at what she was doing. There was no point causing bad blood about it. Oliver was after all, helping out her family. He didn’t have to be there, but they’d be stuck if he wasn’t. ‘Erm, I’d better get back to it.’ She nodded without looking up.
The evening was just as busy as the lunchtime opening hours had been. Morgan went from bar to kitchen, helping out. Pippa had completely forgotten about the prospective chef coming for an interview until Morgan came into the kitchen and put her apron back on. ‘He’s here. Next to the pool table.’
Pippa looked across at the exhausted face of her aunt. ‘Who’s here?’
‘Declan Riley. The chef who’s come in for the interview.’
Pippa’s hands flew to her face, instantly covering her cheeks in flour. ‘Blimey. I’d forgotten all about him.’ She peeled off her apron and flew through the door.
‘Pippa! You’ve got—.’ But she had already disappeared before Morgan could finish her sentence. ‘Oh, never mind.’
The pub was bursting at the seams, but it didn’t stop Pippa from instantly spotting Ava perched on a stool at the end of the bar—close to Oliver.
Pippa felt her blood heat. She looked immaculate. Her perfect white teeth gleamed underneath her open-mouthed, full smile. The pillar-box red lipstick on her full lips was bleed free. And her blonde hair was still set in the long bouncy waves Christine must have teased it into earlier in the day.
Oliver looked at Pippa with a frown as she passed by the bar. Pippa felt her stomach drop into her feet at his obvious disgust at her appearance compared to Ava’s. Was he secretly judging one against the other? Pippa gave him daggers and marched towards the pool table, forcing herself to smile at locals who waved and greeted her as she passed them by.
‘Hello Pippa, no Brett this evening?’
‘Great steak pie, Pippa.’
‘Are you here long?’
‘How you finding Ireland, Pippa?’
Pippa didn’t answer the many questions, she just held her hand up with splayed fingers, indicating she needed five minutes.
Declan was sitting at a small table to the left of the pool table. He rose to his feet as she approached him with a warm smile spread across a handsome, close-shaven face. Pippa held out her hand and Declan grabbed it and shook it firmly. ‘Declan, thanks for coming. Did it take you long to get here?’
Declan shook his head. He had hair as dark as night cut short into a crew cut. ‘No, less than half an hour. The short distance from where I’m living at the moment to here is one of the factors that made me apply for the position.’
Pippa glanced back at the bar before she sat down and she could see Oliver craning his neck to see who she was talking to.
She spent the next thirty minutes getting to know Declan and laughed freely at his jokes. He reminded her of her brother. Every time she glanced over at the bar, she caught Oliver looking her way. From his interview, Declan was proving to be a very good fit for the pub. He was in between jobs due to a failed relationship in which he’d shared a business and living accommodation with his girlfriend. That meant he was living short-term at a friend’s house and looking for somewhere more permanent to live. He told Pippa he would be looking for a property to rent closer to the small town if he got the position. The commitment instantly sold him to her.
‘Could you start tomorrow?’
Declan’s face lit up. ‘Yes. What time shall I come in?’
‘Erm, ten thirty?’
