The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts [Roberts, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780739423592
Publisher: Jove Books
Published: 2010-02-28T13:00:00+00:00

Shawn stayed out of the way when Finkle came in that evening. But he fixed the man a king’s meal of baked plaice done with an herbed butter, served with cally potatoes to which he’d added a dash or so of thyme, and some curly kale. Since word from Darcy when she popped in was that the man would have licked his plate if there’d been no one about to notice, Shawn felt he’d done his part.

So it was mischief, as much as business sense, that had him going out to take Finkle a portion of lemon cheesecake.

Relaxed from the meal, and Darcy’s attentions, Finkle offered Shawn what might have passed for a smile. “I don’t know when I’ve had better fish. You run a creative kitchen, Mr. Gallagher.”

“That’s kind of you to say, sir. I hope you’ll enjoy this. ’Tis me own recipe, fiddled about somewhat from that of my dear old granny. I don’t believe you’ll find better when you return to London.”

Finkle, just about to take the first bite, paused with his fork in the air. “New York,” he said, very precisely.

Shawn let himself blink. “New York? Oh, sure, and it’s New York I meant. The man from London was thin as a skate and wore little round glasses. You’d think I’d be able to keep it all straight, wouldn’t you, now?”

Keeping his expression pleasant, Finkle casually took a sample of the cake. “So . . . you’ve spoken to someone from London about a restaurant, was it?”

“Oh, Aidan, he does the talking. I’ve no head for business at all. Is the cake to your liking?”

“It’s excellent.” The man had a slow brain, Finkle mused, but no one could fault his cooking skills. “The man from London,” he pressed. “Would you happen to know his name? I have a number of acquaintances there.”

Shawn stared up at the ceiling, rubbed his chin. “Was it Finkle? Oh, no, that would be you.” With a sweet and harmless expression covering his face, he lifted empty hands. “I’ve a bad habit of forgetting names. But he was a very pleasant individual, as you are yourself, sir. If you find you’ve room for another portion of cake, just let Darcy know.”

He strolled back to the kitchen, catching Aidan’s eye with a wink.

Ten minutes later Darcy poked her head into the kitchen and hissed, “Finkle asked for a moment of Aidan’s time. They’ve gone into the snug.”

“That’s fine, then. Let me know if you need help at the bar.”

“Consider I’ve let you know. Frank Malloy’s come in with his brothers.”

“He had words with his wife again?”

“That’s the face he’s wearing. I’ll not be able to keep up with them, and the rest of the customers.”

“I’m coming, then.”

He was pulling the second pint for the Malloys—all of whom were burly-built men with straw-colored hair who made their living from the sea—when Aidan and Finkle stepped out of the snug.

He nodded good night to Aidan, then to Shawn. And for a moment as he glanced toward Darcy, his stern face fell into lines as soft as a hopeful puppy’s.

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