Loving Irish by Katy Regnery

Author:Katy Regnery [Regnery, Katy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Katharine Gilliam Regnery
Published: 2018-06-10T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

For the three weeks after the Rileys’ visit and before Rory’s wedding, Ian continued to work on Hallie’s cottage but stayed out of her way, as she’d expressly requested.

October turned into November with wee Jenny proudly showing Ian her Halloween costume (“A turtle, Mr. Haven, ’cause there’s a turtle on the Summerhaven sign.”) and Hallie avoiding every possible interaction with Ian, right down to pleasantries. When he arrived in the morning, she was on the phone, or in the shower, or had already taken Jenny to the store. He started bringing his own lunch so she wouldn’t be troubled to make him anything, though Jenny still kept him company every day. And when it was time to go home, Hallie was scarce again, having taken Jenny on a walk or running errands or just nowhere to be found.

It made Ian ornery not to see her. It made him ache to arrive at her place every day without the promise of seeing her face or hearing her voice. It made him sad that there was no room for friendship between two people who had once loved each other so passionately.

But then he’d remember back to that day—when she’d found him with Vicky and left Summerhaven with her parents. He’d tried to call her, though he suspected they’d changed their phone number because of him. After a week, all he received was a busy signal and a recorded message that the number was no longer in service. He’d written her letters, pouring out his heart to her, but they’d been returned unopened.

Finally, Brittany Manion had pulled him aside one evening when they passed each other on the main path.

“Ian.”

“Brittany.”

“Stop trying to contact her,” she’d said, her blue eyes cold.

“Can you get her a message?” he’d asked desperately.

“Are you crazy?” asked Brittany. “No! Absolutely not! You broke her heart, Ian. She hates you. Just leave her alone.”

“I can’t,” he said. “Please. I have to talk to her.”

“About what? Screwing other girls? No.”

“Please,” he’d begged.

Brittany had shaken her head. “She doesn’t want to hear from you ever again.”

“It’s not what she thinks.”

Brittany had cocked her head to the side. “Oh, really? You didn’t spend the night with Vicky? You weren’t found naked, asleep in each other’s arms? There wasn’t a used condom wrapper by your head?”

Ian had gritted his teeth. “I can’t even remember—”

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she’d said, crossing her arms over her chest.

No! No, it isn’t! It’s awful!

But no matter how many times Ian tried to piece together what had happened, he’d come up empty. He’d completely blacked out. He had no memories—not one—of what had happened in that loft from the time he’d started drinking until the moment Hallie’s voice had woken him up the following morning.

And Vicky Lafontaine, whom he’d tried to ask and who could fill in the blanks if she wanted to, told him to “fuck off” and threatened that if he bothered her again, she’d tell his parents what had happened and/or figure out a way to press charges against him.

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