Wild Irish Dreamer - Tricia O'Malley Page 0,7
was grateful for the exercise she was forced to endure when returning to her home each day after work.
“Ciao, bella,” called Fernando, the man who ran the coffee shop just below her flat, as she breezed by. “You never come see me anymore.”
“I like to keep my men guessing.” Fi blew him a kiss as he laughed after her. Smiling, she swung past the tables lining the sidewalk and sauntered down the cobblestone street, endlessly charmed by the juxtaposition of old and new on the winding streets of this town. Today she just had to help finalize the last contract in a negotiation for a large tour company she was working with and then she was rewarding herself with a holiday. Which meant Fi could take the afternoon to shop and plan for Grace’s upcoming hen party.
She was happy for her friend, Fi mused as she turned and pushed open a door to a small building at the end of the street. In fact, she could pat herself on the back for bringing Dylan and Grace back together. If not for Fi, her stubborn cousin would have refused to see Dylan forever and ever, and they’d have missed out on something amazing.
They were good together. It was something that Fi craved – no, demanded; since she had yet to find it, she hadn’t made the plunge into love. Pushing such thoughts away as she walked into the reception area, Fi beamed at the trim woman who greeted her, and followed her through to the boardroom, which was done up in deep mahogany and emerald green tones. Fi appreciated the Italians’ flair for design; even in corporate workspaces, color was used to add panache. She moved to the stack of documents that waited for her at the end of the table and barely looked up for the rest of the morning, engrossing herself single-mindedly in the task at hand.
It was a trait that had both pleased and frustrated her mother – as a child, Fi had often become so focused on whatever task she was involved in that she missed hearing her mother call her. Her father always said that someone could set the room on fire around Fi and she wouldn’t notice until the book she was reading went up in flames. It was like that with her work as well, but now the trait was well-applauded as she always finished her translations on time, and usually earlier than the agreed-upon deadline.
Today was another such day. After she’d finished typing up her report on the slim laptop she’d brought with her in her tote, Fi let out a breath and leaned back in the chair, rolling her neck to ease the tension from her shoulders. Now for the fun stuff – she could plan Gracie’s hen party and pack for going home to see her family, who would undoubtedly welcome her like she was the long-lost child who’d forgotten about them.
It had only been six months since she’d last been home, but a lot had changed in that time. Grace had found love, something which still surprised Fi. Not because she didn’t think Grace was worthy of love; oh no – she deserved the best man in the world. But Fi had been convinced that hunkering down at her little cottage by the cove was a guaranteed ticket to spinsterhood for Grace. Nevertheless, love had coming knocking – well, bulldozing, if she were to be precise. Still, Dylan and Grace had found their way into love and now Fi wondered if there was something to be said after all for settling in one spot.
“I really must be tired,” she said out loud. She stood, packing her things and neatly stacking the folders of contracts. It wasn’t like her to crave normalcy – well, that which she termed normalcy: husband, house, a couple of kids.
Saying goodbye to the woman at reception, Fi wandered into the street and checked her phone for directions to the little secondhand shop she’d looked up earlier. It had promised vintage bridal dresses, and that was the theme Fi had decided on for Grace’s hen party. Turning the corner, she ignored the calls of various men as she walked past. She’d gotten used to the forward ways of Italian men, and when she was in the right mood she even indulged it, but today it only annoyed her.
The dark red arched door of the vintage shop beckoned her and Fi gratefully dipped inside, ready to enjoy some