Night Of The Blackbird

Stepping from the stage, Moira looked across the room to the bar—and froze. Josh and Michael were in the pub, standing behind the taps near her father.

They had arrived far earlier than she had anticipated.

Josh had a camera running. Michael was still applauding, meeting her eyes, a sparkle in his. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt as if she had been caught off guard. She was irritated with Josh, filming her unaware, and yet warmed by Michael’s presence and his never faltering support. She also wondered if Danny, pounding out a new beat, was aware that Josh had arrived with another man. She was sure that he had noticed; Danny always seemed to be aware of what was happening around him. And certainly, since Danny had apparently been there awhile, he had spoken with her parents and knew there was a man in her life.

She wasn’t given to effusive public demonstrations, but she smiled at Michael and hurried across the room, leaning past a bar stool to give him a welcoming, openmouthed kiss. Very emotional, she thought. And perfectly natural, despite the sound of her father clearing his throat. She hadn’t seen Michael in a while. He’d been traveling, making connections, when she’d made the decision to come here for Saint Patrick’s Day.

“Beautiful, babe,” he said softly.

“Thanks.”

“Very nice,” Josh agreed.

She gritted her teeth, wondering why she was so irritated with Josh for taping the performance and wondering just how much of it he had captured on camera. Why was she angry? This was the centerpiece of their planned coverage: an Irish pub in America. She was a performer; she was on a show almost every day of her life, vulnerable to criticism and ridicule. Part of the game. But this…

This was her personal life. Danny had kissed her on stage.

An old friend, that was all.

And she herself had opened this can of worms.

She lowered her head, counting for a minute.

Her smile was still forced when she looked at Josh. “Josh, you know my dad. And, Dad, I guess Josh has introduced you to Michael…. I didn’t know they’d be arriving so early.”

“I did all the introductions,” Josh said.

“Great. When did you arrive?” she asked him.

He arched a brow, knowing her well, and noting the tone of her voice when no one else did. “In time to tape the whole thing,” Josh told her.

“You know your partner,” Eamon said, making an attempt to speak lightly. She grimaced inwardly, aware that her father was a bit put out that she had greeted a man he had just met with such public affection.

“It was terrific,” Josh said, determined to show her that he was amused by her restrained annoyance. “A real demonstration of the diversity of Americana. You’ll like it—trust me.”

“How did you two manage get here so early?” she queried.

Michael slipped an arm around her, grinning. He had a terrific smile. Dimples. A square face that still offered a fine bone structure and a strong chin. He was tall, well-built, as gorgeous as usual in a handsome business suit. She loved the aftershave he used. Everything about him was perfect—perfect for her. She knew her own mind and who she should be with.

As long as Michael was there. As long as he stood beside her.

“Josh gave me a call at the hotel and said you’d left already, so he managed to get us on an earlier flight, as well,” Michael said. “I met him at the airport, then we came straight here.”

“Wonderful,” she murmured

“I can tell you’re thrilled,” Josh teased.

“I like to know when on I’m on camera,” she said.

“Well, there, then, that’s the beauty of it, eh?” Liam chimed in. Her father’s cronies never seemed to think that there might be a conversation in which they weren’t included. “You’re doing a real live Saint Paddy’s Day show, me darling, and what’s better than a picture of you and your sister singing ‘Danny Boy’ at home? It was lovely, girl, lovely.”

“Thank you, Liam.”

“Your nose isn’t a-shinin’ or anything, Moira Kathleen,” Seamus added.

“Thanks, guys, thanks so much,” she said softly, and her words were genuine. The men were all sincerity, her true supporters. “Dad, I think I’ll take Michael up to meet Mum—”

“Aye, daughter, don’t be a’ leaving me now! The place is getting busy. Come back here and give your old man a hand.”

“Colleen—”

“Now, do you see your sister? She’s escaped somehow.”

“I’ll take Michael up to meet your mother and Granny Jon,” Josh volunteered cheerfully.

She tried to skewer him with her eyes.

Michael looked at her with a rueful smile and a shrug, his countenance assuring her that he totally understood her situation. “I’ll be fine with Josh.”

“Be prepared for strong tea,” she warned him, walking around the bar to join her father.

He caught her hands and whispered softly, “Save those kisses for later. Maybe at the hotel—after pub hours? Totally discreetly, of course,” he teased, his eyes rolling. “I don’t want your father hating me before he gets to know me.”

“Just make sure he knows your family is Irish. He’ll love you,” she whispered.

“Come on, Michael,” Josh said. “I’ll show you the back way.”

As Josh brushed by Moira, she caught his arm and hissed at him. “Just you wait! See if I ever baby-sit again.”

“Turning coward on me now, are you, Moira Kathleen?” he teased. “Sorry, kid, face this den of lions yourself. Or is it only one lion that frightens you?”

With that, he was gone, leading Michael behind the office and storeroom to show him the stairs.

“Bastard,” she muttered.

“You don’t mean me, do you, Moira Kathleen?”

She spun around. She should have known that Dan O’Hara had joined her behind the bar. He wore his distinctive brand of aftershave. She should have felt him there, next to her, helping himself to a beer from the tap.

“Does it fit?” she inquired sweetly.

He didn’t respond, just drank deeply and looked her up and down. “Maybe it does,” he said at last, with a casual shrug. “You’re looking quite the sophisticated lady. Lovely, as usual.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Work is good?”

“Wonderful. And you? Stirring up strife and rebellion, as usual?”