The Irishman's Christmas Gamble
Page 11
That made her laugh just as Pete took the shot. “I haven’t been called a bird in donkey’s years.”
“About time someone did it then,” Liam said, folding himself into the limousine beside her.
“Ha!” But she felt a little glow of pleasure that he thought of her as a girl. Which was ridiculous for a woman of her years. “Your fame has preceded you to New York, I see. Before long you’ll be on the cover of People Magazine.”
“I hear I have a good shot at Sexiest Man Alive this year,” he said, but his attention was on his phone where he was swiping away.
“I’d smack you for your conceit but it’s probably true.”
He raised his head, his blue eyes hot and amused. “That’s twice now.”
“Twice?”
“That you’ve commented on my incredible good looks. It’s a good sign.”
“It’s just a fact.”
He lifted an eyebrow and went back to his phone, scrolling and tapping until he made a final grand flourish. “There. Now we’re headed for the proper store to buy decorations for your tree. And we can go back to talking about my handsomeness.”
She punched him in the arm, surprising herself but making him chuckle. “Seriously, Liam, you’re bloody famous.”
“Which can be bloody inconvenient.” He sighed. “I’m not complaining, mind you. I just didn’t expect it so soon here. The truth is that I need all the fans and media coverage I can get when it comes to putting soccer on the map in the States.”
“I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine. He plays the wrong kind of football, but he’s got powerful connections in the professional sports world.”
Liam frowned. “And who might this footballer be?”
“Luke Archer. He’s the quarterback for—”
“I know who Luke Archer is. The question is: How do you know him?”
“He’s a member of the Bellwether Club, of course.” Frankie was amused by his fit of jealousy. She’d come to know Luke well because he was one of the three crazy gamblers from her club who’d made a bet on true love. She was rooting for all of them to win their wager of hearts, but she couldn’t share their secret, even with Liam.
“You keep impressive company.” Liam didn’t look happy about that.
“I’m almost invisible to my members. As long as things are going smoothly, they don’t even know I’m there.”
“That’s been your choice all along.”
“It’s easier that way. You don’t build a billion-dollar company from the ground up without making a few enemies.”
His eyes turned glacial, but he said nothing. Not like the old days, when he would have demanded she give him their names, so he could warn them off. “I have my own connections,” he said.
Pride. He’d always had it in spades. Sometimes that was all that had kept him from giving up, so she couldn’t fault him for it. “I imagine you do. All over the world, in fact.”
“Thanks for the offer of an introduction, though.” The ice melted and the gleam of humor reappeared. “You wouldn’t by any chance know J.K. Rowling personally, would you?”
“Can’t help you with that one. You’re a Harry Potter fan?”
“No, but I know someone who is.” He turned to look out the window but not before she caught the look of discomfort that crossed his face. “Here we are.”
Liam hustled her across the sidewalk and through the door before she could read the store’s sign. As she stepped inside, she had the sense of being inside a kaleidoscope, with brilliant bursts of translucent color surrounding her.
“Welcome to Glass Dreams.” A young man in jeans and a black tee shirt stepped out of the swirl of color. “If you have any questions, just ask.”
Liam pointed upward. “These would go with your apartment.”
Frankie tilted her head back. Globes of blown glass in brilliant colors and patterns hung from multihued silk ribbons. Some had swirls and stripes of colored glass applied to the outside. Some had sculptural shapes inside them. Each one was a work of art in its own right.
“How did you know about this place?” she asked.
That same odd shadow flitted over his face. “I was Christmas shopping in the neighborhood and noticed it. The colors catch your eye from the outside.”
“They’re brilliant.” She ran a quick calculation in her head based on the size of the tree and the density of the branches and spoke to the salesperson. “I’ll need about seventy of these. Do you have ornament boxes?”
The young man’s eyes lit up before he nodded and disappeared into a back room.
“Point to the ones you want and I’ll unhook them,” Liam said.
“You have to help choose them too. What do you think of doing the whole tree in different shades of red?”
“No fun. Let’s just pick the ones we like the best.” He pointed to one that had green and white swirls. “That one reminds me of my first soccer team’s colors.”
Frankie nodded and Liam took it down.
A black orb with gold speckles swung near her eye level. “Those are the colors of my Black-and-Tan candy bar wrapper.”
The young man appeared beside her, a large box with nests of tissue paper resting in his arms. Liam laid the two ornaments in it.
“This one for the Irish rain,” Frankie said, pointing to a sphere with silver dripping down its sides.
“Now you’re getting into the spirit of it.” Liam unhooked a globe spangled with red, white, and blue. “For our new country, the land of opportunity.”
The young man fetched fresh boxes as they filled them. When they were finished, the number of silk ribbons dangling with empty ends was noticeable in the small boutique. “No problem,” the young man said. “We’ve got plenty more in the stockroom.”
As he began to tally the bill, he looked up at Frankie. “I’m giving you a volume discount.”
“I appreciate the Christmas spirit, but charge me full price,” Frankie said. “Your glassblowers need it more than I do.”
“Especially since this is on me,” Liam said, passing his credit card to the sales clerk.
“No!” She’d let him pay for the tree because she wasn’t going to argue about it in front of his two new fans, but she would not permit him to fund the extravagance of thousands of dollars in glass decorations. “It’s my tree.”
“About time someone did it then,” Liam said, folding himself into the limousine beside her.
“Ha!” But she felt a little glow of pleasure that he thought of her as a girl. Which was ridiculous for a woman of her years. “Your fame has preceded you to New York, I see. Before long you’ll be on the cover of People Magazine.”
“I hear I have a good shot at Sexiest Man Alive this year,” he said, but his attention was on his phone where he was swiping away.
“I’d smack you for your conceit but it’s probably true.”
He raised his head, his blue eyes hot and amused. “That’s twice now.”
“Twice?”
“That you’ve commented on my incredible good looks. It’s a good sign.”
“It’s just a fact.”
He lifted an eyebrow and went back to his phone, scrolling and tapping until he made a final grand flourish. “There. Now we’re headed for the proper store to buy decorations for your tree. And we can go back to talking about my handsomeness.”
She punched him in the arm, surprising herself but making him chuckle. “Seriously, Liam, you’re bloody famous.”
“Which can be bloody inconvenient.” He sighed. “I’m not complaining, mind you. I just didn’t expect it so soon here. The truth is that I need all the fans and media coverage I can get when it comes to putting soccer on the map in the States.”
“I’m going to introduce you to a friend of mine. He plays the wrong kind of football, but he’s got powerful connections in the professional sports world.”
Liam frowned. “And who might this footballer be?”
“Luke Archer. He’s the quarterback for—”
“I know who Luke Archer is. The question is: How do you know him?”
“He’s a member of the Bellwether Club, of course.” Frankie was amused by his fit of jealousy. She’d come to know Luke well because he was one of the three crazy gamblers from her club who’d made a bet on true love. She was rooting for all of them to win their wager of hearts, but she couldn’t share their secret, even with Liam.
“You keep impressive company.” Liam didn’t look happy about that.
“I’m almost invisible to my members. As long as things are going smoothly, they don’t even know I’m there.”
“That’s been your choice all along.”
“It’s easier that way. You don’t build a billion-dollar company from the ground up without making a few enemies.”
His eyes turned glacial, but he said nothing. Not like the old days, when he would have demanded she give him their names, so he could warn them off. “I have my own connections,” he said.
Pride. He’d always had it in spades. Sometimes that was all that had kept him from giving up, so she couldn’t fault him for it. “I imagine you do. All over the world, in fact.”
“Thanks for the offer of an introduction, though.” The ice melted and the gleam of humor reappeared. “You wouldn’t by any chance know J.K. Rowling personally, would you?”
“Can’t help you with that one. You’re a Harry Potter fan?”
“No, but I know someone who is.” He turned to look out the window but not before she caught the look of discomfort that crossed his face. “Here we are.”
Liam hustled her across the sidewalk and through the door before she could read the store’s sign. As she stepped inside, she had the sense of being inside a kaleidoscope, with brilliant bursts of translucent color surrounding her.
“Welcome to Glass Dreams.” A young man in jeans and a black tee shirt stepped out of the swirl of color. “If you have any questions, just ask.”
Liam pointed upward. “These would go with your apartment.”
Frankie tilted her head back. Globes of blown glass in brilliant colors and patterns hung from multihued silk ribbons. Some had swirls and stripes of colored glass applied to the outside. Some had sculptural shapes inside them. Each one was a work of art in its own right.
“How did you know about this place?” she asked.
That same odd shadow flitted over his face. “I was Christmas shopping in the neighborhood and noticed it. The colors catch your eye from the outside.”
“They’re brilliant.” She ran a quick calculation in her head based on the size of the tree and the density of the branches and spoke to the salesperson. “I’ll need about seventy of these. Do you have ornament boxes?”
The young man’s eyes lit up before he nodded and disappeared into a back room.
“Point to the ones you want and I’ll unhook them,” Liam said.
“You have to help choose them too. What do you think of doing the whole tree in different shades of red?”
“No fun. Let’s just pick the ones we like the best.” He pointed to one that had green and white swirls. “That one reminds me of my first soccer team’s colors.”
Frankie nodded and Liam took it down.
A black orb with gold speckles swung near her eye level. “Those are the colors of my Black-and-Tan candy bar wrapper.”
The young man appeared beside her, a large box with nests of tissue paper resting in his arms. Liam laid the two ornaments in it.
“This one for the Irish rain,” Frankie said, pointing to a sphere with silver dripping down its sides.
“Now you’re getting into the spirit of it.” Liam unhooked a globe spangled with red, white, and blue. “For our new country, the land of opportunity.”
The young man fetched fresh boxes as they filled them. When they were finished, the number of silk ribbons dangling with empty ends was noticeable in the small boutique. “No problem,” the young man said. “We’ve got plenty more in the stockroom.”
As he began to tally the bill, he looked up at Frankie. “I’m giving you a volume discount.”
“I appreciate the Christmas spirit, but charge me full price,” Frankie said. “Your glassblowers need it more than I do.”
“Especially since this is on me,” Liam said, passing his credit card to the sales clerk.
“No!” She’d let him pay for the tree because she wasn’t going to argue about it in front of his two new fans, but she would not permit him to fund the extravagance of thousands of dollars in glass decorations. “It’s my tree.”
