like her Italian neighbors, though she preferred to linger over it on her small terrace overlooking the water if the weather was nice instead of taking it like a shot at the counter of the coffee shop below. Try as she might, Fi had never mastered the art of waking quickly, and she’d learned to build time into her mornings to ease into the day and wake her brain up. Fi now took this routine to sit by her window where she could read the paper – yes, the actual paper – and savor her morning espresso.
As a translator specializing in Italian, Spanish, and French, Fi thought it necessary to immerse herself where she worked. Hence the Italian paper, which she read every morning, front to back. It helped to loosen her mind and get her thinking in Italian, after which she could sit down to whatever contract she was translating and work with confidence.
Today, though, her brain struggled to focus. Inexplicably, she was drawn back to the memory of a man whose image periodically drifted through her mind. Liam Mulder. She wondered where he was these days.
She hadn’t been long out of university when she’d first met him. Fi thought back, closing her eyes and tipping her face up to the sun that struggled to shine through the clouds.
She’d been green, eager for work, and ready to take on the world. Sean Burke, Margaret’s husband and kin to Fi, had hired her to translate a contract for his shipping company up in Dublin. Fi still remembered her first day: Dressed in a smart black suit and wearing sky-high red heels, she’d walked into the meeting and realized just how egregiously overdressed she was. Scattered around the table were a slew of men in denim pants and button-down shirts, sleeves casually rolled to their elbows. Immediately recognizing her dismay, Sean had welcomed her and put her at ease, a warning look in his eyes for the others. Only Liam had smiled widely at her, including her in on the joke she’d made of herself. She’d immediately taken to him.
Through their negotiations – Sean was acquiring two new ships from an Italian shipping company – Fi had found herself laughing and chatting with Liam. There was something about the careless confidence he’d exuded that had pulled Fi in.
When he’d invited her for a drink after work, Fi had eagerly accepted. But when she arrived back at Sean’s house, where she’d been staying the night to catch up with him and Margaret, he had called to cancel.
“Work conflicts,” Liam had said, apologizing gracefully.
“It’s not our time,” Fi had replied, then pulled the phone away to look at it in shock. Where had that come from?
“Is that so? Well, you’ll have to let me know when it is,” Liam had said, and Fi had hung up, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. What was wrong with her?
“That Liam?” Sean had asked, watching her carefully from across the table.
“Aye, that was. He called off meeting up tonight.” Fi shrugged.
“That’s a lad. Wouldn’t want to mix business and pleasure,” Sean had said, and then gruffly changed the subject. That was when Fi had realized Sean had scared Liam off.
Goddess save her from overbearing family. Vowing then and there to follow her dream of being independent and traveling the world, Fi had eagerly accepted the next client project that allowed her to travel. Off she’d gone, and Liam had faded into the past.
Just a memory… or so she’d thought.
Chapter 2
It must have been six or so years before she’d happened upon Liam once again. It was completely by chance, as things often are, and Fi almost hadn’t recognized him when he’d pulled up a chair at the little table where she was sitting outside a small restaurant on a back street in Pula, Croatia. Glancing up, she’d composed her face into a coolly distant look, ready to dismiss whoever had dared to interrupt her rare moment of alone time.
“Fi?”
“Ah… yes? Oh my – Liam, right?” Fi had asked, a delighted grin stealing across her face.
“Correct. I thought that might be you, but I had to do a double take. You’ve cut your hair,” Liam said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And you’ve grown yours.” Fi smiled once more, leaning back into her chair and studying him. He’d grown, she realized, in more ways than one. He was more masculine now, with a scruff of beard and hair a few months past a haircut, and his sea-blue eyes