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“Two soups and baps,” she said, “and I threw in a few wee slices of cake, too.”

“You are a saint, Mrs. Doherty,” he said, accepting the bag with a grateful smile.

He reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Mrs. Doherty shook her head. “Ach, it’s on the house today. You’ve brought in enough business for us to more than cover it.”

But Finn refused. “Naw, I’m good for it.”

As he paid, Mrs. Doherty motioned to the patrons of the café. “It’s heavin’ in here today. How’ve the group been so far?”

“Already better than the melters before,” he replied. “They’re good craic.”

Especially one of them.

His eyes again shot to Maisie, who still held her waves of hair behind her at her shoulder as she leaned forward, blowing cooling breaths into the soup. The action accentuated her high cheekbones and the pretty angle of her jawline.

“And…” Mrs. Doherty began, fortunately unaware of Finn staring at one of her customers, “how’s your da doin’?”

The lovely image of Maisie taking another spoonful of the soup and writing more words down in her notebook faded away, overshadowed by Mrs. Doherty’s question.

He’d known this was coming. Finn couldn’t avoid the conversation any longer.

He turned back to face the woman with as much of a pleasant smile as he could. “He’s farin’ fine.”

“Any luck at all with him findin’ another job?”

“Aye, some luck. He’s interviewed with two companies that seem eager to hire him, so Da’s hopeful.”

Da being the keyword. Finn didn’t want to start worrying, but things were coming down to the wire now. It had been six long months since Da had been made redundant from his job of thirty-five years—and six long months since Da had been relying on Finn to help with housing payments.

Money had been tight for the O’Mearas before the job loss, what with Ma’s parents living there with no funds or pension of their own to contribute, so Da had been forced to rely on Finn.

Course, Finn was more than happy to help. Even if that meant draining his life savings and falling behind on the rent for his own flat. But Da didn’t need to know that. The man had given everything to his family for years—it was time for Finn to return the favor.

The bonus that year would help him keep his flat—as would the pittance he’d receive from playing with his band when he was off this coming weekend—and his job would help his family keep their home. Just so long as he continued to make good decisions, he’d be completely fine.

Unfortunately, Finn didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to making intelligent choices. His whole life was evidence of that.

Anyway, he didn’t need to worry. He would get that bonus. He had to.

His eyes flicked to Maisie again, who was still focused intently on her meal. He’d never seen someone look so fondly at food before, studying it as one would study a rare flower or a sunset on the sea.

“Does your Ma need anythin’?” Mrs. Doherty asked, heaving his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“She’s grand,” Finn said with a shake of his head. “Doin’ everythin’ for everyone.”

“Ach, ‘course she is.” She looked over her shoulder as a clang sounded from the kitchens. “I’d best get back there. Give me love to your folks. And let me know if I can ever help any of you.”

Finn nodded, thanked her again for the food, then made his way out of the café. Worries about the future pinged about his mind like errant flies, but he shooed them aside as he glanced at Maisie again.

He tried to catch her eye, hoping to receive a wave or elicit a smile from her, but she was too focused on her food to notice anything else.

He couldn’t blame her. Mrs. Doherty’s soup was grand.

Anyway, it was just as well she hadn’t seen him. He needed to keep his wits about him. There was one other tour guide beside him who was up for the bonus at Nirbt. Finn had received it his first and second year there, but last year, after leaving the Luxembourg couple at the causeway, Finn had lost the bonus to Thomas—the most boring man on earth. Although, apparently, Thomas was filled with a wealth of knowledge everyone—aside from Finn—loved.

This year, according to Joshua, Thomas had received the same number of glowing reviews as Finn. With Thomas’s final tour of the summer wrapped up, it all came down to Finn’s behavior over these next two weeks.

He wasn’t too concerned about it. Well, he was trying not to be. Really, all he needed to do was be his usual, charming self and pay attention to each individual passenger—instead of focusing too intently on catching the eye of a stunning, food-loving, white-shoe-wearing American.