Chapter 10

Keavy~

S howered with a new purse in hand, I drove to work, doing my best to appear like everything was okay. When I'd woken up, it'd been with the decision not to accept Kenneth's friend request. Even though I didn't know where to find him, he knew that I worked at Miller's, so if the request really had been from him, then he could find me there. If Kenneth, the police, or the O'Briens were looking for me, then they could come to me. I'd rather have them meet me on familiar ground than have me walking into the unknown.

As soon as I pulled into the back parking lot of Miller's, I got out, locked my car, then glanced around like a paranoid crack addict as I made my way to the front door. Since it was a Friday night, the place was already busy enough, even though it was only six. Some people liked to make an entire night of it, and others liked getting here early for a guaranteed table or spot at the bar.

Walking in, my eyes scanned the entire place, and I saw Kenneth nowhere. Praying that no one could see inside my mind, I rushed to put my stuff away in the back, then grabbed my apron, quickly getting to work.

The second that I was behind the bar, Casey was shooting me a regretful look. "Charlotte isn't here yet."

"It's fine," I assured her. "Get going. I've got this."

Guilt registered in her pretty brown eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said, smiling to prove it. "If she doesn't show, Tilly will get someone in here soon enough."

"Thank you," she rushed out. "Everyone's topped off, so that should give you a few minutes."

"Thanks," I said. "Now get out of here."

She flashed me a quick smile before taking off her apron, then going about her business. Luckily for me, not two minutes later, Charolette was racing through the front door of the bar, and a part of me wanted to send her right back out. She looked horrible, but I also knew that the utility companies didn't care if someone was sick, just had a baby, or had a death in the family. Bills were cold sonsofbitches, and they did not care what crisis that you had going on in your life.

Like having just killed two people?

Ignoring that nagging voice in my head, as soon as Charolette reached for her apron, I said, "Honey, are you sure you're up to working tonight? You look like you need a doctor."

She grimaced. "If it's any consolation, what I have isn't contagious unless you're not on birth control."

"Ouch."

"Can you believe it?" she huffed sadly. "They're not lying when they say that the pill is only ninety-nine percent effective."

"What does Scott have to say about it?"

"I haven't told him yet," she admitted. "If I do…"

I looked behind her, and a cute guy was holding up his glass. "Meet me back here in two seconds."

She turned to see the guy. "Oh, yeah…of course."

I rushed over to the guy, then gave him my best customer service smile. "What can I get for you?"

His blue eyes raked me up and down before saying, "I'd ask if you were on the menu, but something tells me that you're not."

Forcing myself to act like the Keavy that everyone knew, I said, "I'm single, if that's what you were trying to get at."

His back straightened, and the man perked up like a happy puppy. "Most girls would think it was a tacky come on line."

"It was," I assured him, laughing. "You need to work on that."

He grinned. "Duly noted."

"Now, what can I get you that is on the menu?"

"A whiskey neat," he answered, his smile genuine this time.

I left him to grab a bottle of whiskey, assuming that he was drinking well since he hadn't specified a particular brand, then after refilling his glass, I checked on the other four customers on my side of the bar before heading back to meet Charlotte by the ice machine.

"So, you were telling me why you haven't told Scott yet," I reminded her.

"I'm just…I'm only twenty-seven and not sure if…if I'm ready for forever just yet," she confessed. "Scott and I have been arguing a lot lately because he's ready for marriage, and I'm just…I don't know." She shook her head tiredly. "I think I'm just stupid."

"Well, decisions become easier to make once you simplify things," I told her. "Do you know what you want to do about the pregnancy?"

"I'm going to keep it," she said, and she sounded confident enough in her answer that I didn't doubt her.

I nodded to let her know that I'd heard her. "Charlotte, my advice is to always do what's in your heart," I advised her. "However, there's no greater commitment than becoming a parent, and that's definitely a forever kind of decision."

"Don't I know it," she chuckled softly.

"All I'm saying is that there are worst things in the world that having a man that wants forever with you," I said. "I mean, with or without a ring, you keeping the baby is going to give Scott his forever anyway, don't you think?"

Charlotte blinked at me, and then she suddenly started laughing. When she calmed down, she said, "God, I really am an idiot."

I grinned. "We've all been there."

She gave me a tender smile as she said, "Thank you, Keavy. I really needed a different perspective, and…and don't be surprised when Scott comes in here to give you a big kiss."

"I'm good as long as there's no tongue," I replied, tossing her a quick wink before her name was called by a patron needing a refill.

Three hours later, Charlotte was in better spirits, the place was packed, and I was feeling better about the cops not knowing anything. After all, for a double-murder, I couldn't see them waiting for me to take my lunch break. That also got me to thinking about Kenneth's friend request, and maybe it really had been from him, and he was just too terrified of the O'Briens to show his face in public. It was also quite possible that he was waiting until I got off work to approach me about last night.

As I started wiping down the area of a patron that had just left, another one immediately sat down, and my mouth nearly dropped open with how gorgeous he was. He reminded me of Dima Gornovskyi, though with rougher features. In fact, the combination of that dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and those masculine features on a face like that, and any woman would be lucky to ride it.

"What can I get you?" I asked when I finally found my voice.

"What's your best Irish whiskey?" he asked, and my heart immediately sank to my stomach.

Don't freak out.

Don't freak out.

"Uhm…we have Jameson, Tullamore Dew, and on top, we have Redbreast Twelve Year," I answered, my throat feeling dry like a paranoid fool.

"I'll take three fingers of the Redbreast…?"

"Uh…oh," I stammered. "Keavy. My name is Keavy."

"Nice Irish name. I like it."

It was?"

"Well, Keavy," he continued. "Please, and thank you, lass."

Doing my best not to give myself away, I asked, "And you are?"

He laughed, and the sound sent chills down my spine, and not the good kind. "In a place this crowded, I seriously doubt that you're going to remember my name." He shot me a wink, but it didn't feel flirty at all. "How about that drink, lassie?"

Though it didn't reach my eyes, I gave him a quick smile, then turned to get his drink, reminding myself that this wasn't the first time that someone had ever asked for Irish whiskey. This also wasn't the first time that someone had refused to give me their name. It wasn't uncommon for someone that wasn't supposed to be in here to keep to themselves.

By the grace of God, I was able to place the drink in front of him with a steady hand. Smiling again, I said, "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Oh, I will," he said cryptically as he took the glass.

Just then, the guy from earlier called out to me, and though our flirtation had started out strong, he now had a pretty blonde sitting with him, and I was actually happy for him. After all, why should we both have a shitty freakin' night?