happened at all.
5
GABE CHATTED WITH THE codgers who had been regulars when Uncle Patrick was alive and would probably be regulars until they died. Considering how much Gabe had learned about old NewYork, he hoped that wasn’t anytime soon, because he had yet to hear the long-promised story about the night EC saw the Blue Shirts lose to the Canadiens in Madison Square Garden in, as EC so poignantly described it, “the heartbreaker of the century.”
However, tonight he kept a careful eye on Tessa, making sure that the status quo had been restored. Everything seemed right, but as the night wore on, he found himself less concerned with the status quo and more concerned with the eye-candy job of watching her.
At first it was big, general things that he’d overlooked about her before. Her long fingers twisting the cap off a beer in one graceful slide. The way her body moved so easily in soft, faded jeans. The sound of her laugh when Lloyd tossed out a bad joke. Over time, his focus narrowed and the smaller details began to emerge. The way she curled her lower lip in when she was shaking a martini, the way she brushed the hair from her face, the way her green eyes worked the customers, always friendly, capable, always the best friend behind the bar.
One thing about Tessa—she was an original. And people knew it when they talked to her. She never said much about herself, only listening. Always listening.
At half past seven a college baseball team pounded in fresh from a hard-won victory—judging by the dirt-stained jerseys. Tessa didn’t blink an eye. Instead she filled twenty-seven orders, including nine Long Island Iced Teas. As she worked, she twirled the glasses in the air, flirted with them all, easy and friendly, but they sucked it up like flies to honey. Gabe shook his head in amazement, still watching, though, if only to make sure everybody stayed in line.
Underneath the shell there was something fragile. Last night Gabe had broken something inside her and he wasn’t sure what. That sort of responsibility didn’t sit well with an Irish Catholic who prided himself on doing the right thing.
The time flew until it was nearly nine and Daniel came in to prepare the night deposit. Daniel was the antithesis of Sean, quiet, reserved and always alone. Although only four years older than Gabe, Daniel had lived through nightmares that Gabe could never imagine.
Daniel had been married for only five months when his new wife had been killed in the North Tower. She and Daniel both worked for an accounting firm there, and Daniel had been getting coffee for her from the Starbucks that was a few blocks north. He had been running late. Michelle had been at work precisely on time.
The aftershocks of 9/11 had been hard on the family—their mother had been alive then—but Daniel never fell apart. His whole life he had never said much, but he did change. Now he watched the world with grave eyes, never missing the details. While Gabe could joke with Sean, Gabe was always nervous about Daniel, never knowing exactly what to say or not to say. It was a bad feeling for a bartender. It was hell for a brother.
“No winner on the pool?” he asked Gabe, his gaze resting on Tessa. Gabe drew in a tense breath because he’d been hoping to avoid the subject of the bet. Actually, he was hoping that everyone would forget about it, but with such a large pot that seemed doubtful.
“What pool?” asked Lloyd.
“Never mind,” said Tessa quickly, a little too quickly—noticed Gabe, not daring to look in her direction.
Daniel looked at Gabe, looked at Tessa, eyes assessing, then he shrugged. “Did Sean call you this morning?”
In that moment Gabe knew he’d drawn a reprieve. “Yeah, but he hung up before he told me anything.”
“Somebody’s been asking questions about your license.”
“What license?”
“Liquor.”
Gabe swore. “I thought computers were supposed to make our lives better. Instead people don’t take responsibility for shit and the screwups get shuffled from one department to another.”
Daniel cut him off. “Don’t worry. Sean said he knew a girl in the planning department who had a sister who works in beverage control. He’ll get it squared away, but it might hold up the building permit for the place next door for a few weeks.”
“I really can’t afford to sit on empty real estate for a few weeks, you know? Why does everything take so freaking long?”
“What’s with you?”
“Patience is overrated, Daniel.”
Lloyd laughed, then coughed and then lifted his glass. “But a good man’s credit isn’t. Can you pour me another scotch and water, Gabe?”
IT WAS TWENTY MINUTES after closing and the bar was empty. The regulars had left with a chorus of goodbyes, and Daniel had carted off a night deposit that would help offset the cost of the renovations for the space next door. Assuming there was going to be a space next door.
Tessa poured the leftover ice into the sink and began scrubbing down the stainless-steel countertop. She worked quietly, leaving him alone, but he could hear her thinking. Normally the problem with the building permit was something he’d confide in her, but normal didn’t feel right anymore. Sex could do that to two people.
Finally, she laid down her rag. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing,” snapped Gabe. She stared, silently calling him a liar, and he sighed. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You’re ready to get started next door, aren’t you?”
Yeah, he was more than ready. As soon as he’d seen the place go up for sale, he’d swooped in for the buy, killing his finances in the process, but it’d be worth it. When Gabe committed, he was in it for the long haul, and the restoration would be perfect. “I can start on some of it myself. Nobody will know.”
“You should get Daniel to help,” said Tessa.
“He’s got enough to think about without having to share in my responsibilities, as well.”
“He’s part owner.”
“‘The silent part’ is what he always says.”
“I can help,” she offered. “Dad was pretty handy around the house, and I’ve been known to perform electrical work for food.”
Here was Tessa, no place to live, struggling to find a real career, and she wanted to help. “Thanks, but don’t worry about it.”
Quietly Tessa went back to work, and Gabe closed off the taps. Another few minutes passed before she spoke again.
“You didn’t say anything to Daniel, did you? One day. He called it. He should have won the pool.”
Yes, Daniel should have won the pool. Yes, the world should know what a weakhearted bastard Gabe was, but Gabe wasn’t ready to admit that yet. “Do you really want me to say something, Tessa? Let the pool go. In a few days everybody will forget about it, they’ll be betting on horse races, and then I’ll get Sean to refund the money.”
“I don’t like being dishonest.”
