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“I’ve got duct tape, and I’m not afraid to use it. One more word, and you’ll be getting on that plane bound and gagged inside a suitcase.”
“And if I fight back?”
“I’ll drug you.” The words were drawn out slowly with absolute conviction.
I glared as harshly as I could muster before bursting into a fit of laughter.
My best friend tried to maintain her stern expression, but eventually caved with a chuckle. “I’m serious, Becca. No more second-guessing yourself. We are getting on that plane tonight, and you’re starting your new life in Ireland.”
“Only because you’re going with me.” I peered at Ashley, sobering. “I’m scared, Ash. This is so far out of my comfort zone,” I whispered.
She joined me on the bed, wrapping her arm around my back and pulling me close. “I know, honey, but you need to do it anyway. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Don’t let anxiety keep you from achieving your dreams.” Her voice was soft but urgent.
I lucked out big time in the best friend department. She drove me a little crazy sometimes, but Ashley Moore was my perfect compliment. Where I was timid and conservative, she was bold and dauntless. She kept my life interesting while I kept her from ending up in jail. We were in perfect balance on our friendship seesaw, never allowing one another to hit rock bottom or get thrown off.
“Thanks, Ash. I needed that. I swear I won’t freak out once I’m there and settled in.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she teased with a smirk. “Fortunately, I’ll be there with you for the first two weeks, so you have nothing to worry about.”
I’d been worried about telling Ashley about the job offer and certainly hadn’t expected her to come with me, but I should have known better. She’d been my biggest cheerleader and insisted I seize the opportunity. Knowing how important this was to me, she planned from day one to use up the last of her vacation days at work accompanying me to Belfast. I was incredibly grateful. Living so far away from her and my parents would be hard, but having her with me while I got adjusted made it all a little less scary. While she would miss me, she wasn’t exactly sad to have a reason to travel abroad. It had all worked out perfectly.
So why was there a bundle of angry snakes writhing in my belly?
I swallowed and forced a smile. “Absolutely. Nothing to worry about at all.”
She laughed and patted my leg. “Exactly. Now help me get this bag packed, or I’ll have to wear your clothes on my trip.”
Ashley was an expert procrastinator. I’d been packed for a week—created checklists and run through my lists twice over. Ash would be lucky to make it two days in Ireland without needing to shop for something she forgot. Her time management habits, or lack thereof, had been annoying early in our friendship, but I learned to adapt. Knowing my best friend, I’d given her a packing deadline a full hour prior to our true deadline. She was able to do things at her pace, and I didn’t have to panic about being late. We packed, got all our luggage checked at the airport, and were crammed into our absurdly uncomfortable airplane seats with time to spare.
Twenty-four hours later, we took our first steps in Ireland.
***
“I thought they spoke English here, but I can’t understand a word. Is that Gaelic or something?” Ashley grumbled as our cab driver pulled away, leaving us standing outside of my new apartment. “Gaelic is Scottish. They’re speaking English, but I agree, it’s hard to understand. Let’s hope not everyone has such heavy accents as the cabbie.”
“And the customs official,” she added. “I had so much trouble understanding the man. I’m a little surprised they let me in the country.”
I smirked. “Come on. Let’s check out the place I’ll be calling home for the foreseeable future.” The line of two-story, attached row houses looked the same as it had in the pictures online, which was a relief. Shopping for a home from an ocean away was not my ideal scenario, but I’d done my research as best I could and was happy with the results. The stretch of red-brick buildings made me think of soldiers standing shoulder-to-shoulder. There were no trees, and the collection of homes had seen their heyday come and go. However, the neighborhood appeared safe and family-oriented. Best of all, it was only a ten-minute walk to work. It was a great deal at just under six hundred pounds a month compared to the other options I had seen.
The layout was simple. Living and kitchen downstairs with the bedroom and bath above on the second level. The front door opened facing the stairwell, the kitchen to the right, and a furnished living room to the left. A beige loveseat and oversized chair left just enough room for a two-seater oak kitchenette on white linoleum floors. The large windows and white walls kept the place feeling bright, which was helpful because the only light fixture appeared to be an unadorned light bulb hanging from the ceiling.
“Nice,” commented Ashley, our eyes cast up at the glowing bulb.
“Yeah, well, at least it works.” That was more than I could say for some of the stuff in our efficiency back in New York.
“Good point.”
The tiny galley kitchen was outfitted with an oven, microwave, and a refrigerator—all of which looked like child-sized replicas of the real things. I was relieved to find that they all seemed to work and reminded myself that this was not supposed to be my dream home. The old wood cabinets were painted a light blue and had seen better days, but they would serve their purpose.
“It’ll do. Let’s go up and check out the bedroom and bath.”
The stairs didn’t creak, which was a bonus. The bedroom contained a queen-sized bed with a small particle board chest, and while cramped, it also had two large windows making it feel more spacious. The bathroom was lined in white tiles throughout and had a shower stall, commode, and pedestal sink—not exactly overflowing with storage, but it was decently clean and very doable.
“Oh, Becca. You’re going to love it here. I just know it.” Her whispered comment was rife with excitement on my behalf.
“I’m not sure about love, but I’ll definitely manage.” I was being a touch difficult. If I was honest, I felt the same bubbling excitement. An electric energy hummed through my body and bolstered my spirits with hope.
I could do this. I could really do this.
Deep down, I’d always known I could, or I would never have taken the job, but I was the queen of second-guessing myself. Anxiety and indecision were my constant companions, which was why I clung to feelings of certainty and confidence when they surfaced.
I flashed Ashley a giddy grin. “Let’s get unpacked, then we can explore.”
“Girl, I’m so glad you’re excited, but I’m exhausted. Once we unpack, I’m taking a nap.” “You can’t! They say that’s the worst thing you can do for jet lag.”
“When have I ever listened to what they say?” She arched an angular brow.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, but don’t wake me up when you can’t sleep tonight.” “Don’t you worry about me. Now let’s find the sheets. That bed is calling my name.”
***
Ashley followed through with her threat and was passed out minutes after the last bag was unpacked. I brought the most I could manage in two giant suitcases and shipped two additional boxes that wouldn’t arrive for a few more days. The pull of sleep deprivation tugged at my limbs, but I wanted to get on local time as quickly as possible since I would be starting my job in two short days.
The thought filled me with anticipation.
I’d been out of school for two years waiting tables, unable to snag a job in my desired field until now. That was why I’d been so torn about accepting the position—I didn’t want to leave the US, but I desperately wanted the job. Once I could add museum curator to my résumé, finding a job back home would be so much easier. All I had to do was put in my time, perhaps a year or so, and the rest would come.
It’s not like Belfast was all that bad. It was just different, and I wasn’t much for any kind of change. The sooner this city became my new normal, the better. Seeing as how the museum was a crucial piece of my new life, I decided it would be my first outing. I’d used Google maps street view a dozen times to walk virtually between work and home, but there was nothing like seeing everything with my own eyes.
Throwing on a jacket, I left a note for Ashley, then slipped from the apartment. I didn’t plan to go into the museum yet. I simply wanted to walk the route and take a quick tour of the neighborhood.
Even though it was still nearly two months from the middle of winter, early November in Belfast meant limited daylight. The sun was already lowering midafternoon and would be fully set around four thirty. There was still plenty of light to see for my afternoon stroll, but my work commute would be in the dark. Fortunately, my time in New York City had helped me overcome that particular fear. If you can’t walk city streets at night in New York, you don’t get out much. Maybe now that I was out of a large city and making decent money, I could buy a car. Not right off the bat, but sometime in the near future.
A grin lit my face. I bit my bottom lip to contain my excitement and keep from looking like a lunatic smiling at herself.
“Where do you think you’re going?” called a deep voice in a slow Irish drawl.
While I might not have been a New Yorker born and bred, I had been there long enough to know that you do not, under any circumstances, talk to or make eye contact with strangers who call out to you. However, this voice was so commanding, so compelling that my steps faltered. Despite my better judgment, I turned to its source.
My lungs forgot how to function as I took in the gorgeous man leaning against a sleek black sports car. I was assaulted by his unexpected perfection. Sculpted athletic frame in a finely tailored suit. Neatly trimmed blond hair mussed in a casual fashion contrary to the extremely intense vibe he gave off. An angular jaw lined with scruff, and eyes so blue the sun could rise in their depths and be perfectly at home. This man was unsettlingly attractive, and every ounce of his attention was focused on me.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked vacantly, his stunning good looks zapping my brainpower.
“That’s an awfully confident smile you were wearing. Think you could just walk past me without me noticing?” He pushed away from the car and stretched to his full height—an impressive length easily over six feet.
Confident smile? What is he talking about?
I’d have thought he was flirting had his expression not been accusatory. Menacing.
“I’m sorry, you must have me confused with someone else.” I tucked my chin and turned to continue my walk, a tendril of unease urging me onward.
“Stop,” he commanded in a tone that seized my muscles and froze me in place. “You’re not from here.” Accusation softened into curiosity.
I turned to look back at him over my shoulder. “No, I just arrived today from the US.”
He began to approach, and my pulse kicked up a notch with every measured step closer. “And you truly have no idea who I am?”
I glanced around with wide eyes, wondering if I’d inadvertently stumbled across some modern version of the Peaky Blinders. “I’m sorry, but as I said, I’m new here.”
“And what is it you think you’re doing here?” He was now a few short feet away from me.
Within lunging reach.
We were on a city street in what was left of daylight. Granted, the street wasn’t particularly busy, but I told myself I should be safe. Should.
The niggling doubt forced a hesitant retreat. I took a step back toward the vacant storefront, keeping my eyes locked on his—not that it helped me understand his intent. His face was masked in absolute stoicism. With such an attractive face, he didn’t seem like he should be dangerous. Or perhaps I just didn’t want him to be dangerous. Yet my skin crawled, and adrenaline started coursing through me, making my palms sweat and my head pulse.
“I came to start a new job.”
Why am I explaining myself to this crazy man?
I could hear the words of a confident rebuff resounding in my head, but I couldn’t force them past my constricted throat. It was no different than any other time I’d been in an uncomfortable situation. I resorted to placating my tormentor. Life was easier that way. Safer.
“Who are you working for?” His eyes narrowed a fraction.
My brows drew together as I glanced toward the stone building behind him. “At the museum. I’m the new assistant curator.” Why the hell did it matter to him where I’d be working? “Look, I have somewhere to be. I really need to get going.”
I started to turn until a strong hand clamped down around my wrist. Gasping, I spun to find the man inches away, his formidable body towering over me. For several eternal seconds, time stood still. His earthy scent filled the air around me while his penetrating stare held me captive.
Eventually, I pulled in a shaking breath and tried to extract myself from the hold his eyes had over me. “Please, let me go,” I whispered.
His hand squeezed tighter.
“If you try to run, I’ll find you. It’s what I do.” His statement was the rumble of distant thunder, threatening a cataclysmic storm.
Suddenly, I was free from his grip, though his body made no move at retreat.
I should have fled the instant he let go, but it took several erratic heartbeats before I forced my body away from his gravitational pull. Securing my coat around my middle, I hurried down the sidewalk with only a quick glance over my shoulder. The man was nowhere to be seen.
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