up. The one thing that she was surprised about was the smallish television, but her pulse sped up when she saw the rows and rows of books and music and the state-of-the-art sound system. Be still my beating heart .
“Ashley said you were a musician?” Em looked around for the usual guy musician evidence of guitars.
“Yes and no,” Mick answered. “I was a session musician for a while, and I still play around town when needed, but these days I spend most of my time building home studios and consulting. I have some studio space, though, so you don’t have to worry about hearing me banging around at all hours of the day and night.”
“Oh, so you’re a drummer?” Em asked with some trepidation. She had dated drummers in the past and it was never really a great experience . Hold your horses, chickie; you’re not dating this guy. You just met him!
Mick barked a laugh. “No, I’m a percussionist ,” he huffed with mock offense. “Yeah, I’m a drummer. But I went to M.I.T. and Georgia Tech, so I’m not a typical drummer.”
“Jesus, I shouldn’t even be talking to you,” laughed Em. “A drummer from Georgia Tech? What the hell am I thinking? Ashley would have a fit!”
“I take it you went to that other school?”
Em nodded and grinned and shrugged. “Don’t hold it against me.”
Mick winked and grinned back at her. “So the first time you met Rory was at that networking thing?” At Em’s wide eyes, Mick quickly added, “He was very impressed with you. He told me about your meeting.”
Oh, God, he already knows I’m a complete, babbling idiot. Em put on a brave grin and hoped to God that Rory hadn’t told Mick everything about that initial meeting.
“I had encountered him at various conferences, but I don’t think he knew who I was. I didn’t study computing at all in college. I have a liberal arts degree, and actually a master’s degree in Irish studies, which is oh-so-useful when you don’t want to go into academics,” she said sarcastically.
“So how in the world did you end up being a computer security consultant?”
“I always liked messing around with computers, and I took enough classes that I could actually almost qualify for a second major. I kept taking coursework and attending conferences, and then I got a job at a law firm, and here I am.”
“You’re well-rounded then. Not a bad thing, if you ask me,” Mick said. Not a bad thing at all. Very well rounded, especially that ass and rack, and those were very good things.
“So how long have you known Rory?” Em asked.
“A little over 30 years,” replied Mick, and laughed as Em boggled. “We met in junior high. My mother had just moved us from St. John’s to Boston, and he and his family had just emigrated, so we were both new.”
Em played with a spare coaster and sneaked shy looks at Mick. “So that’s the accent, then. Newfoundland?”
“Yeh, Newfoundland mostly. We lived in Texas for a year when I was in primary school, then back to St. John’s, and then Boston.”
“I knew you weren’t from around here. You sound basically American, but not.” Em babbled. “So what brought you down here?”
“I transferred to Georgia Tech after my wife died. I’d been at M.I.T., but it was just too hard living up there without her. Rory followed me down a year after. And here we are, almost 25 years later. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m one of the few natives around here. I don’t think I’ll ever leave,” Em said. “I know you couldn’t tell that I was Southern by my accent at all.”
“The accent is pretty cute,” Mick said with a shy grin.
“I’m glad you think so, because I talk a lot. I mean, a lot a lot.”
Mick chuckled. “Well, I guess it’s good that I’m not known for my loquaciousness, then.” He fidgeted with his glass of beer while Em continued to look around his home with interest.
Mick set his glass down with a thud and grimaced when Em jumped a bit. “You know what? I think
“Ashley said you were a musician?” Em looked around for the usual guy musician evidence of guitars.
“Yes and no,” Mick answered. “I was a session musician for a while, and I still play around town when needed, but these days I spend most of my time building home studios and consulting. I have some studio space, though, so you don’t have to worry about hearing me banging around at all hours of the day and night.”
“Oh, so you’re a drummer?” Em asked with some trepidation. She had dated drummers in the past and it was never really a great experience . Hold your horses, chickie; you’re not dating this guy. You just met him!
Mick barked a laugh. “No, I’m a percussionist ,” he huffed with mock offense. “Yeah, I’m a drummer. But I went to M.I.T. and Georgia Tech, so I’m not a typical drummer.”
“Jesus, I shouldn’t even be talking to you,” laughed Em. “A drummer from Georgia Tech? What the hell am I thinking? Ashley would have a fit!”
“I take it you went to that other school?”
Em nodded and grinned and shrugged. “Don’t hold it against me.”
Mick winked and grinned back at her. “So the first time you met Rory was at that networking thing?” At Em’s wide eyes, Mick quickly added, “He was very impressed with you. He told me about your meeting.”
Oh, God, he already knows I’m a complete, babbling idiot. Em put on a brave grin and hoped to God that Rory hadn’t told Mick everything about that initial meeting.
“I had encountered him at various conferences, but I don’t think he knew who I was. I didn’t study computing at all in college. I have a liberal arts degree, and actually a master’s degree in Irish studies, which is oh-so-useful when you don’t want to go into academics,” she said sarcastically.
“So how in the world did you end up being a computer security consultant?”
“I always liked messing around with computers, and I took enough classes that I could actually almost qualify for a second major. I kept taking coursework and attending conferences, and then I got a job at a law firm, and here I am.”
“You’re well-rounded then. Not a bad thing, if you ask me,” Mick said. Not a bad thing at all. Very well rounded, especially that ass and rack, and those were very good things.
“So how long have you known Rory?” Em asked.
“A little over 30 years,” replied Mick, and laughed as Em boggled. “We met in junior high. My mother had just moved us from St. John’s to Boston, and he and his family had just emigrated, so we were both new.”
Em played with a spare coaster and sneaked shy looks at Mick. “So that’s the accent, then. Newfoundland?”
“Yeh, Newfoundland mostly. We lived in Texas for a year when I was in primary school, then back to St. John’s, and then Boston.”
“I knew you weren’t from around here. You sound basically American, but not.” Em babbled. “So what brought you down here?”
“I transferred to Georgia Tech after my wife died. I’d been at M.I.T., but it was just too hard living up there without her. Rory followed me down a year after. And here we are, almost 25 years later. What about you?”
“Oh, I’m one of the few natives around here. I don’t think I’ll ever leave,” Em said. “I know you couldn’t tell that I was Southern by my accent at all.”
“The accent is pretty cute,” Mick said with a shy grin.
“I’m glad you think so, because I talk a lot. I mean, a lot a lot.”
Mick chuckled. “Well, I guess it’s good that I’m not known for my loquaciousness, then.” He fidgeted with his glass of beer while Em continued to look around his home with interest.
Mick set his glass down with a thud and grimaced when Em jumped a bit. “You know what? I think
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