“Like a vacation?”
“A vacation from my life,” she agrees. “I don’t even know how I got on this island. I drove until I came to the ferry terminal, and then I got on it—and ended up here.”
“Well, it’s a fine island to get lost on.”
“Okay, I think I can handle whatever the day might throw at us—” Maggie stops short when she sees our customer and frowns. “Oh, honey. Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
The other woman laughs and shakes her head. “I must really look horrible if everyone is asking me if I need medical attention.”
“I think you looked better this morning,” Maggie says. “Are you hungry?”
“Actually, I’m starving.”
“I’ll get you some stew. I’m Maggie, by the way.”
“Izzy.” She smiles. “I’m Izzy.”
Maggie bustles to the kitchen to fetch the stew, and Izzy continues watching me.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
“Keegan O’Callaghan.”
“You’re a handsome one,” she says, then her eyes go wide. “And that’s the whiskey talking. But it’s true. But I’m off all men, so you’re safe from me. No need to throw me out or anything.”
I laugh and decide not to give her any more whiskey.
“I’m not throwing you out of here.”
“Good.”
Maggie returns with the stew, and Izzy digs in. “This is delicious.”
“Thanks.” Maggie smiles. “It’s a family recipe.”
“Our ma used to be in charge of the kitchen here at O’Callaghan’s,” I say.
“You two are siblings?” she asks.
“That’s right,” Maggie says. “And three others come in and out from time to time. Shawn and his wife are manning the kitchen today.”
“Where are the other two?” Izzy asks, seeming enthralled by the story.
“Kane is probably working on something in his barn,” I reply, “and Maeve is likely showing houses.”
“So, you all live around here?”
“Aye. Where are you from, Izzy?”
“Salem, just south of Portland.” She sighs. “And I’m not going back for a while.”
“What are you going to do?” Maggie asks.
“I don’t know.”
I’ve never been able to turn away someone in need. “I can use another waitress.”
Izzy’s eyes light up. “Really? Can I apply for the job? I know I’m not exactly dressed for an interview, but I’m a hard worker.”
“Have you waitressed before?”
Her expression falls. “No. But I learn fast, and I’m totally trustworthy. And I could really use the job.”
Maggie walks behind Izzy then gives me a grin and a thumbs-up. She wants me to hire her.
“Can you start this evening?”
“I can start right now.” She looks down at herself. “Wait. I don’t even have any clothes. I left the church so fast, I didn’t take anything but my purse with me.”
“I have some things you can borrow,” Maggie offers. “Keegan, I’d like to take her home so she can shower and get into something much more comfortable.”
“I can handle things here for a while.”
“Does that mean I can start tonight?” Izzy asks.
“I do believe you just got yourself a job,” I reply.
Izzy claps her hands and hops off her stool. “Thank you. So much. You won’t regret it.”
Six hours later, I already regret it.
Not having Izzy around. With all the makeup cleaned off her face, and after a shower and some clean clothes, she’s absolutely gorgeous. And she’s kind, funny, and good with the customers.
But she’s a horrible waitress.
Izzy hurries to the bar with her tray, stops and blinks, and then turns back and yells at the table across the room. “What kind of beer did you say you wanted, Frank?”
I sigh. “Know the customers’ names, do you?”
“They’re super nice,” she says.
They think she’s hot. That’s why they’re so fucking nice.
“But you can’t remember their orders?”
She bites her lip. “I know, I’m sorry.”
I slide a pad of paper and a pen across the bar to her. “Write the orders down. You don’t have to remember them.”
“Maggie doesn’t write anything down.”
“Maggie’s been working in this pub since she was in nappies, Izzy. Trust me, just write it all down.”
She takes the pad and smiles shyly. I’ve noticed that she keeps looking at our small stage, watching the duo who plays Irish music for us on the weekends.
“They’re good.”
“They are, yes.”
Without another word, she goes back to Frank’s table and writes down their order. The rest of the evening is busy. I can see that Izzy’s feet hurt, but she doesn’t complain. She doesn’t mess up another order, only breaks one glass, and is true to her word.
She learns quickly.
At the end of the night, once the door is locked and the bar cleaned up, I catch Izzy yawning with a mop in her hand.
“I think that’s enough excitement for you today.”
“I can finish,” she insists.
“We’re done,” Maggie announces.
“Oh, thank God,” Izzy says with a small laugh. “I’m so dang tired. I was supposed to be in Aruba right now. Instead, I’m here. I’m not complaining. I just—”
“I totally get it,” Maggie assures her.
“You did well,” I say as I turn off the lights and get ready to follow the girls out to their cars. We’ve never had a problem here, but it’s the middle of the night, and I’d rather make sure they’re safe.
“Thank you so much. I had fun. When is my next shift?”
“Tomorrow afternoon,” I reply. “Be here around noon. You can work until dinnertime.”
“Awesome.”
“Goodnight,” Maggie says with a wave and gets into her car.
I watch as Izzy climbs into her little Lexus convertible. But instead of starting it up and driving away, she reclines the driver’s seat and locks the doors.
I drag my hand down my face.
You have got to be kidding me.
I prop my hands on my hips and look around. It’s none of my business if Izzy wants to sleep in her car.
She’s a grown woman.
This is a safe town.
I turn around to walk back inside, then mumble fuck under my breath and approach Izzy’s car.
I tap on the window, startling her.
She turns the key and lowers the glass.
“Am I not allowed to park here?”
“Parking here isn’t the issue. You don’t have anywhere to go?”
She shakes her head. “But I’m fine here. It’s warm. Maggie loaned me a blanket, so it’ll be fine.”
I try to open the door, but it’s locked. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Inside. You can sleep in my flat until you get your feet under you.”