She’s flustered and her mouth opens and closes, trying to find some way out of the compliment.
“It’s true,” I go on. “I don’t bullshit and I don’t mince my words. I rarely see someone like you, and more than that, rarely want to spend time with them either. But here I am. And here you are.”
“And what do we have here?”
Another voice infiltrates our cozy little scene and I tear my eyes away from Valerie to assess the intruder. It’s her other sister, the one who was on the phone.
She looks a little more different than the others. She’s taller with an athletic physique, her hair brown and shoulder-length, her outfit all black and no-nonsense. I can tell she’s going to be the tough one. Mothers are often tough.
Her eyes are running over me and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Eventually she looks at Valerie, brows raised. “Did the guy come to his senses?”
While Valerie looks like she wants to die at that comment, I can’t help but smirk. She pulls no punches. I admire that. “I did, actually,” I tell her, getting off the stool and offering my hand. “I’m Padraig.”
“Angie,” she says, her handshake very firm. “Nice to see you up close and not all this.” She gestures to the line between my brows and mimics a frowning face.
“How is Tabitha?” Valerie asks, trying to switch the subject away from her sister’s miming.
It seems to do the trick, and I assume that Tabitha is her daughter because Angie’s face immediately softens. In fact, every part of her becomes a puddle. “She’s good. It’s still pretty early at home so she was tired and a bit cranky. She said she misses me and I think that pissed Mom off.”
“What doesn’t piss her off?” Valerie says.
I have a feeling this conversation is about to leer into personal territory that I have no business being a part of, so I prepare to say my goodbyes. I probably should go home before midnight anyway. I know the minute I step away from her I’ll be back to being in a mood and that’s a mood that shouldn’t be around anyone, especially when alcohol is involved.
“Well, it was nice to meet ye both,” I tell them, raising my empty glass at them. “I wish ye both a happy new year.”
“No,” Angie practically hisses. “Don’t leave on account of me.” She glances at Valerie. “The last thing I want to do is be a cockblocker.”
I can’t help but grin at that, and again Valerie looks embarrassed. It’s hard to tell where her skin ends and her hair begins.
“Seriously,” Angie says. “Stay. Stay here. I’ll go find Sandra.” She reaches over the table and snatches up her purse. “Valerie, text me later. Have fun tonight. Love you.” She says this a mile a minute, and suddenly she’s gone, like she vanished into thin air and it’s just Valerie and I again in the alcove.
“Wow,” I remark, watching her get swallowed by the crowd. “I would have thought she was going to tell me to get out of here.”
“She’s usually a lot tougher than that,” Valerie says after a minute. “I thought she would have given you the third degree.”
“So why didn’t she?”
She gives me a quick glance and smiles. “I guess she trusted you. Or trusted me.”
“Or maybe she thought I was good for ye.”
I expected her to blush even more at that, but she doesn’t. She just gives me another smile, this one soft, and I feel it in my gut.
I want to be good for her. This redhead from Philadelphia, the writer, the one with the body that won’t quit, the one who lacks any armor right now, who is saying yes to the moment and not thinking about the future. I want to be good for someone, now, while I can.
“Do ye want to get out of here?” I ask her, knowing I might be too presumptuous but also knowing it feels like there are no rules tonight and the shy beautiful girl might just want to be with me.
She licks her lips in thought, her eyes on her sisters by the bar who are now drinking and throwing us quick glances. Then she meets my gaze. “Yes.”
I know what that yes means.
An adventure.
6
Valerie
What the hell am I doing?
One moment I’m nursing my bruised ego over a cider, the next the stranger who had bruised said ego is buying me a whisky and asking me about my life.