"Damn is not a curse word," Rafe said. "We've had this discussion before."
She wiggled her fingers. "Pay up, Rafe."
"That's Mr. Kendrick to you," he corrected as he pulled out his wallet and withdrew a pair of ten-dollar bills.
Her brown eyes sparkled with amusement. "Only when I'm within earshot of other employees. Remember, I knew you back when you owned three properties and couldn't get a bank to loan you a nickel so you'd have two to rub together." She paused, her expression turning serious. "Is it your mother?"
"She's fine." He shook his head. "And I meant to thank you for the flowers you sent for her birthday."
"Then is it the business?"
Rafe shook his head. "Really, it's nothing. I've just been traveling too much lately. Too much time sleeping on planes. Too many strange hotel rooms. I just need some rest."
In truth, whenever he tried to sleep, he found himself thinking about Keely. She was like a drug. Now that he'd had a taste, he wanted more. But he thought if he fought the cravings hard enough, they'd go away.
He'd gone over that night again and again in his head. It wasn't the sex, though that had been pretty great. And it wasn't because she was some gorgeous piece of ass, though she was nice to look at. It was how she'd made him feel. For those few moments in just a single evening, he'd let down his guard, he'd forgotten all his anger and he'd been happy.
And then, he'd left for Detroit and returned to find her gone. There had been no answer in her room and when he had inquired at the desk, the clerk had informed him that Keely McClain had checked out early that morning. The note she'd left him only said that she had to get back to New York and that she'd call him the next time she was in Boston.
So she had waltzed out of his life as quickly as she'd waltzed in. And look where it had gotten him. This was the end of it. From now on, Keely McClain was part of his past, a past not worth dwelling on. "You know, you could help me out," Rafe suggested. "Make some dinner reservations for tonight for two. Someplace quietromantic. Then call Elaine Parrish and tell her I'll pick her up at seven."
The only way to put Keely McClain out of his head would be to replace her with another woman, someone prettier, more adventurous in bed. And the sooner the better.
"I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea," Sylvie said.
"Why not?"
"Elaine announced her engagement three months ago. I read it in the paper."
"Then find someone else. Anyone, I don't care."
"Maybe that's your problem," Sylvie commented.
Rafe sent her a stern look. "Just do it. And take these shoes. Give them to your husband. If they don't fit him, give them to the Salvation Army. Just get them out of my sight."
She grabbed the box and tucked it under her arm. "Right away, Mr. Kendrick."
But before she got to the door, Rafe stopped her. "One more thing. They're having a party at my mother's hospital," he lied. "I told the staff that I'd arrange for the refreshments. I thought a cake might be nice. And some of thatyou know, you put it in a big bowl and-"
"Punch?" Sylvie asked.
"Right." He paused. "And I was reading about this person in New York who makes unusual cakes for parties. I think the name was McClain. I'm pretty sure her bakery is located in Brooklyn. Can you see if you can track down a number? But don't call-let me. I'd like to discuss what she can do."
Sylvie's eyebrow shot up. "Since when do you talk to cake decorators?"
"Just find out more," Rafe ordered. "And if I were you, I'd think about taking that promotion. Before I fire you for insubordination."
"You've been offering me a promotion for five years and I've been giving you crap for twice as long. And you haven't fired me yet."
Rafe held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Ten dollars. If damn is a curse word then so is crap."
She slapped a ten into his hand, then stalked out of the office. He was glad Sylvie didn't want another job. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get along without her. Rafe leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. But a few seconds later, his intercom buzzed. He reached over and punched the button. "Yes, Mrs. Arnold. What is it?"
"I have a number. I found a McClain's Bakery in Brooklyn and they do make party cakes."
Rafe sat up straight. He wasn't sure whether he wanted Keely's number. Just a few minutes ago, he'd decided to move on, to find another woman to occupy his thoughts.
"Mr. Kendrick?"
"Just hold on to it for a while," Rafe finally said. "I'll let you know if I need her-I mean, it. The number."
He sighed, then raked his fingers through his hair. His gaze fell on a stack of file folders sitting on the corner of the desk. "Quinns," he murmured. He'd collected all the information he needed to put his plan into action, yet in the past month he hadn't done anything to further his aims.
From now on, he intended to keep his eye on the ball. Nothing, not even Keely McClain, would keep him from his plans this time.
KEELY FINGERED the claddagh pendant hanging around her neck, running her thumb over the emeralds as if they might bring her good luck. She'd come back to Boston to meet her family and tonight she'd do just that. She'd walk into Quinn's Pub, have a beer and introduce herself. And no matter what happened, she'd live with the consequences.
Smoothing her palms over the wool jacket she wore, she started toward the entrance to the bar. "Hi, my name is Keely Quinn and I'm your daughter." She groaned. "I can't just blurt it out like that. I have to have a more subtle approach. Maybe I can get him talking about his family. I'll ask him about his wife and then when I see an opening, I'll take it."
Her stomach did a little flip, but she refused to allow it to get the better of her. Instead, she paused and took a deep breath until the nausea passed. She hadn't had any coffee for a whole week, choosing milk instead to stave off the threat of throwing up in public. Gritting her teeth, she yanked open the door of the pub and stepped inside.
The place was crowded, noisy and hazy with cigarette smoke. No one bothered to look at her as she walked over to the bar. And she tried not to look at the patrons, wanting to stay as anonymous as possible. An empty stool near the end of the bar beckoned and she quickly took a seat, placing her purse in front of her.
She held her breath, waiting for someone behind the bar to notice her. Seamus was there, along with two younger men she knew were two of her brothers. The resemblance was striking, the same dark hair that she had, the same golden-green eyes. She saw her mother in each of them, in the playful way their mouths quirked up when they smiled. Seamus was the one who approached and she sat up straight and prayed that her voice wouldn't tremble when she spoke.
"What can I get ya, lass?"
Even now she could see the man that her mother had fallen in love with. If he had been half as handsome as the other two behind the bar, then he must have been irresistible. Keely swallowed hard. "I'd like a beer."
"A Guinness, then?"
"Yes. A Guinness would be fine."
He returned a few moments later with a huge glass of dark brown brew, topped by a head of pale foam. With a flick of his fingers, he tossed a coaster down in front of her and set the glass on top of it. "That's a lot of beer," Keely said with a weak smile.
"It's a pint. You look like a lass who can handle it," he said, his Irish accent thick. "Drink up now."
He made to walk away and Keely scrambled to find something to say to keep him at her end of the bar. "So is this your place?" she asked.
"That it is," Seamus said. He grabbed a towel from behind the bar and began to polish a rack of glasses. "Quinn's Pub. That's me. Quinn." He cocked his head at the two younger men at the other end of the bar. "My sons. They help me out."
"Have you always had the pub?"
He shook his head. "I used to captain a long-liner. Fished for sword on the Grand Banks."
"A fishing boat," Keely said. "That must have been dangerous."
"It was a good life for a younger man," he said in a wistful tone.
"Hey, Seamus, ya ol' gombeen! Gimme a pint!"
Seamus glanced over his shoulder, then walked away from Keely without another word. She sighed softly before taking a long sip of her Guinness. "Well, that went pretty well," she murmured. He didn't seem like such a bad guy. After her mother had painted a picture of a dissolute, irresponsible husband, Keely wasn't sure what to expect. But Seamus seemed like the kind of man who might welcome her arrival. After all, she was his only daughter.
Irish music blared from the jukebox and Keely gradually felt more comfortable in her surroundings. She drank her Guinness as fast as she could so that she could order another glass. Sean and Liam prowled the length of the bar-she'd gleaned their names from shouting patrons anxious for a refill. Liam was the youngest, the closest to Keely in age, and she felt a special connection to him. Had they spent a childhood together, they may have become best friends.
"Another?" Liam asked.
Keely pushed her glass toward him. "Make it a half-pint this time." If she didn't slow down, she'd be drunk before she said another word to Seamus.
But when Liam returned, he wasn't carrying a glass of Guinness. Instead, he placed a champagne flute in front of her and filled it with sparkling water. "What's this?" Keely asked, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.
"That guy down there wanted to buy you a drink." Liam shrugged. "This is what he said you'd like."
Keely leaned over the bar and looked down the length of it. Her heart stopped the moment her gaze met his. "Oh, God." She quickly leaned back and cursed softly. Rafe Kendrick was the last person she expected to see.
Her heart slammed in her chest and for a moment she wasn't sure what to do. A decision didn't come quickly enough. A few seconds later, Rafe slipped into the narrow space next to her stool, his body brushing up against hers. A tremor raced through her and she closed her eyes as she remembered the feel of his hands on her body.
Why hadn't she ever considered this possibility? She had met Rafe outside Quinn's Pub that night a month ago. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that he might show up again. But she'd been so focused on meeting her father and brothers that she'd completely ignored the prospect that she might see Rafe there.