“I understand you were short staffed tonight.”
It’s hard not to get lost in his mesmerizing eyes.
“Wow, word gets out fast.” Were customers complaining about their service tonight?
“Connor reached out.”
What? Now I am lost. How does he know Connor? “Do you know Connor?”
He laughs to himself, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek before answering. “Cindel… do you know who owns The Black Sheep?”
I was a little taken back by his question, but I answer regardless. “Cassie?”
Jada struts by, tracing a finger along the shoulders of the good-looking man in front of me.
“Hey, Eamon.” She coos in her flirty voice I’ve heard her use multiple times before, trying to bait a guy into buying her a shot, too.
My eyes bounce from Jada to Eamon, unsure if this is some kind of joke.
His jaw ticks as he takes a seat at the bar. Green eyes travel up to meet mine. With a perfectly fitted suit in a royal blue, he looks regal. Outlandishly confident.
“No, little one. Cassie does not own this bar… I do.”
He moves toward the register.
As if that was the closing line to a movie, my right ear hums to life.
A melody I’ve heard during my high school years at Boston Charter,Beck – “Loser”,plays only for me to hear. With its catchy rhythm, combined with verbal diarrhea that made about as much sense as what this insanely attractive man just told me. I couldn’t discern if I was short circuiting, because I was stuck cleaning the same area on the tabletop.
I’ve been wearing this earbud all night and now the musical stalker plays this?! There’s no message! It’s just layer upon layer of nonsensical madness. Like cake tiers filled with inedible ingredients of nails and glass. I know I told myself I was accepting this… running headfirst toward the danger, but already I’ve hit a wall. I’m beyond frustrated.
The song ends and I can’t hold in the words that tumble out of me.
“Yes, you are a loser,” I grumble, just as Eamon appears before me. Oh shit.
CHAPTER
NINE
EAMON
Slowly, she’s beginning to realize that she’s a fish out of water. The starry-eyed girl looks more surprised than anything. Almost muttering to herself.
The staff carries on with their nightly tasks. The girls restock the liquor shelves, Connor empties the ice bins, and Cindel struggles to get through the most mundane of tasks. It looks as if she’s been wiping down the same table for the past five minutes.
Since Cassie’s gone, I tally the cash drawer. I’ve depended on her to manage things in my absence. I’ve never been too fond of The Black Sheep, however Cindel working here has encouraged me to come around more.
She stumbles slightly as her shoe catches a stool. I fight the urge to smirk. She’s too busy watching me out of her peripheral, as opposed to watching where she’s going.
She’s a sweet kid. I know I shouldn’t be here. Making myself known to her. Doing any of this, but I feel responsible. Like her well-being was handed over to me long ago. Once her boyfriend was out of the picture, I arranged for her to take this job. It’s actually thanks to him that I found her at all. Life sure has a sicksense of humor. Exchanging wants for needs. Loss paired with ill-begotten gains.
I have bled, poured my everything into this life, only to watch the foundation slowly begin to crumble. I’ll be damned if I let anything else I care about be eradicated. Just between the Bay Boxing Club and The Black Sheep, I have kept myself busy over the past couple years. When my dad went back to Ireland to bury my mother, I was left to clean up in his wake. Handle everything alone…
My sister isn’t very reliable when it comes to business. Instead, I have a few entrusted men to help. Kilkenny Castle wasn’t built overnight, but over generations. Ultimately, it’s my turn to make things better. It’s no easy task, but I push myself each day to learn more, be more.
I do it because I can’t accept the past. We have all been deceived. This way of life has rules. A code to follow. It was broken. When I finally unravel this web of lies, someone is going to join the rest of the massholes buried beside the interstate.
As despicable as some people may appear, I don’t believe everyone is guilty. Cindel was closer to a delicate piece of china vs. the city’s Teflon skin. I know she’s faced unspeakable things. Still suffering from the loss of her brother, even years later. I understand better than most, but if she doesn’t play along, this game, this life… will consume her. I hope she can make it out of this unscathed. Then, I might be able to get some fucking sleep at night.
