Flawless(41)

He knew he had the man by several inches, and Gary, too, seemed to realize that Craig was taller and bigger and undoubtedly tougher all around.

The older man urged Gary Benton away, and the three of them left the pub.

Craig saw Declan breathe a visible sigh and start rolling his keg again. Someone at the bar called out that they were getting parched. Kieran hurried back behind the bar.

Julie’s hand trembled in Craig’s. Then, suddenly, she rose and threw her arms around him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He disentangled himself gently. “It was nothing. But you have to learn to ignore him.”

“I know, and believe me, I’ve tried,” Julie whispered. “He just keeps sliding the knife in deeper and deeper.”

He wished he knew what to say to that. “Try feeling sorry for him,” he suggested.

“Sorry? For him? Why?”

“Because he’s so messed up that he isn’t able to behave any way except badly. And because he’s clearly incredibly stupid if he left a woman as sweet and pretty as you.”

“Thank you. It’s just scary to suddenly be alone.”

“Julie, I know you’ve heard all this, but the right person is out there. You’ll find him. Like I said, you’re pretty and sweet, so learn to like yourself. Then you’ll know when a guy like Gary is just being a jerk.”

He flushed suddenly, aware that Kieran was standing beside their table.

He fought bad guys; he wasn’t a therapist. Was she going to think he was an idiot for trying to give advice?

But she was smiling at him.

“I keep telling her that. Maybe she’ll believe it coming from you,” she said.

He shrugged and said, “How come no one’s been by to take our order?” He looked at Julie and whispered with a wink, “Service kind of sucks here, huh?”

“Just part of the charm,” Kieran assured him. “Don’t worry. Rory, our chef, knows you’re here. He’s sending out something special.”

He saw that she was smiling as she turned and headed back toward the bar. A moment later Chef Rory O’Bannon himself came out bearing three plates. His best Guinness pie, he told them. He was a big, florid man, but not overly heavy, perhaps forty-five or fifty, with a quick smile.

“The finest you’ll have this side o’ County Cork,” he assured them. Then he frowned suddenly. “You’re not one of those vegetarians, are you, sir?” he asked Craig.

“Not at all, and this looks delicious,” Craig assured him.

“And you, missy,” Rory said, looking at Julie. “You’re as lovely as the dew on the Emerald Isle. Don’t be letting that damned fool steal another moment of your happiness.”

“I won’t,” Julie promised, “and thank you.”

Rory tipped his head and left.

Craig assumed Kevin would be coming back. To his surprise, he glanced over to the bar and saw Kieran hand her bar towel to her twin and head back over to the table instead.

“It’s really stew in a pastry crust,” she explained, sliding onto the seat next to Julie.

“I’ve actually had Guinness pie before,” he assured her. “Not as good as this, I’m certain, but I have had it.”

Julie turned to Kieran. “What did you say to him? To get him to leave, I mean.”

“I actually appealed to Jimmy McManus, the man he came in with,” Kieran said. “I said that you were here this evening and feeling a bit down, and then I asked him nicely if they might go somewhere else for the evening.”

“Jimmy’s a decent guy,” Julie said.

Kieran looked across the table to Craig. “Thank you. I saw what you did.” She smiled. “All you had to do was stand up. Good show.”

Craig shrugged, a little uncomfortable. “I just asked him not to use certain language. My mother taught me never to suffer fools. And my dad came from a very tall family of Highlanders. Height always helps.”

“You were wonderful,” Julie breathed.

Kieran looked down at her plate—hiding a little smile, he thought. She also seemed glad to have the attention on him rather than on her.

“I have to say, Rory was right. This is the best Guinness pie this side of County Cork,” Craig said.

An attractive young couple approached their table just then, apologizing for interrupting, then telling Kieran how proud of her they were.

Thirty seconds after they left, an older woman came by, saying, “‘Any decent person would lend a hand.’ Nice, Kieran. I don’t know what this city is coming to—girls being pushed in subways, men killing people who don’t even fight back over diamonds. Diamonds! Just rocks. Wretched things. I hope they catch those bastards soon.”

“We all hope so, Lorna,” Kieran said.

The woman bade them good-night and left, but only after studying Craig curiously.

“I should have introduced you,” Kieran said to him. “How rude of me. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m glad you didn’t. I’d just as soon stay anonymous. If you do introduce me to anyone, just use my name—say I’m a friend. Tell people you’re with the FBI and suddenly they’re afraid to say anything.”

He thought he saw Kieran color a little. “Only the guilty ones,” she said.