My Life in Shambles(32)

Valerie is waiting on the steps, talking to the hotel’s doorman. I get to observe her for a moment before she sees me.

Am I doing the right thing?

Do you trust this girl to lie for you?

Don’t you wonder why she would?

I can’t say I haven’t been asking myself those questions a lot over the last twenty-four hours.

But now that I’m looking at Valerie, the doubt subsides. Just enough to think that maybe this will work anyway.

I mean, the woman is gorgeous. Even when she’s smiling politely at the doorman (and also frowning in such a way that it makes me think she can’t understand a word of what this guy is saying), she exudes something that I can’t put my finger on. I’m not poetic or worldly enough, perhaps.

The best I can say is that she reminds me of the first day of spring. Not the arbitrary date in March, but that first real day when the sun is out and the air is fresh and you close your eyes and you can almost feel yourself being reborn again.

I can’t say I’ve ever gotten that feeling from someone else before, and it’s just enough to cause my rapidly beating heart to slow.

I take a deep breath and get out of the car, heading to the steps of the hotel.

“Good morning,” I tell her, coming up beside her. “Are ye ready?”

Now that I’m closer, I can see the shyness in her eyes, the fact that she’s as unsure about this as I am.

“As I’ll ever be,” she says, and the doorman attempts to grab her suitcase but before he can I’ve already scooped it up and I’m gesturing to the car.

Meanwhile I can hear someone else behind us talking to the doorman: “Is that Padraig McCarthy? That fool should be back in the game. He looks fine to me.”

I wonder when they’ll learn I’m anything but fine.

I put her luggage in the trunk and quickly go around to her passenger door, opening it for her.

“Such a gentleman,” she comments, looking impressed.

“Definitely not a gentleman,” I say as I go around the front and get in my side. “Just a man who knows his manners.”

She buckles her seatbelt and gives me a smirk. “In America, that’s a gentleman.”

“Nah,” I say with a shake of my head, pulling out onto the busy, slushy street. “I reckon a gentleman is someone with class and education, as well as manners. That just ain’t me. As you’ll find out, I was born a country boy.”

“How many people are in Shambles?” she asks.

“About a thousand.”

Her eyes widen. “Wow. That’s not exactly a place where you can go and hide, is it? I grew up in a suburb and it’s like everyone in your cul-de-sac thought they were entitled to your business.”

I chuckle. “Yeah, it’s kind of like that. You get used to it, but believe me, if you want to fool around with the neighbor’s daughter, you better believe that half the town knows about it the next day.”

“I take it that happened to you?”

“Yeah, but they had a lot of daughters so it was a common occurrence.”

She laughs and runs her fingers down the side of the window. “Well, I have to tell you that as nervous as I am, I’m looking forward to this.”

“You’re nervous?”

She rubs her lips together and nods. “Oh yeah. I mean…” She tilts her head to look at me. “This is sort of insane, you know.”

“I’m aware. But it takes two to do something like this. One to suggest it and the other to go along with it.”

“Ever the diplomat. But I’m serious.” She clears her throat. “Yesterday when we were discussing how long I was going to stay, you said a few days. But don’t you have to stay longer than that?” She cranes her neck to look at the back of the car. “You’ve packed a lot of stuff for just a few days.”

“Right. Well, I think I’m there … until I don’t have to be.” I don’t want to talk about what I really mean and I know she gets it.

“But isn’t it suspicious that I suddenly just leave and I’m never seen again?”

I shrug. “Yeah. But we’ll just say you’re going to America for work for a month or two.”

“Right after we got engaged? That doesn’t seem right. I mean, I was just engaged and never would have done that.”

I glance at her sharply, heat in my chest. “You were just engaged?”

She gives me a wincing smile. “Yeah. He broke it off a week or two ago.”

“A week or two ago?” I repeat, dumbfounded. I’m not sure how this is going to make things more complicated but I have a feeling it will.

“I probably should have told you. I just thought, you know, a one-night stand doesn’t need to be anything more than that, we don’t need to lay it all out. Although this was my first one-night stand, so maybe it’s common to run away with that person to their hometown a few days later.”

“What happened?” I ask. “Is that why you’re here? I thought it was the job.”

“It was both. His name was Cole. Or is. Cuz he’s still alive. I didn’t, like, murder him, don’t worry.” She gives me an endearingly goofy smile. “Anyway, we were together for a year and engaged for six months, and I lived with him and everything. A week before Christmas he said he didn’t want to marry me anymore but he still wanted to be in a relationship. So I grew a pair and told him that if he didn’t want to marry me, I didn’t want to be with him.” She grows quiet at that, as if she’s wrestling with something inside that she’s not sure she wants to share.