could handle the few customers that ranged along the worn wood bar. Patrick would take his temper out with some manual labor.
An hour later, he surveyed his work. Not only had he unloaded all of the new inventory, but he'd reorganized the entire set of liquor shelves by type of liquor, and then in alphabetical order in their sections. With a nod, he turned to leave and jumped to see his pregnant boss standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her impressive belly.
"You work your mad off yet?" Cait asked, shooting him a glare.
"I'm fine," Patrick said, meeting her gaze.
Cait sighed and rubbed her belly, and Patrick immediately felt guilty for leaving her to tend bar.
"Let's get you off your feet. I'm sorry," Patrick said.
Cait waved him away.
"I'm fine. Though I'm happy with the organizing you've done in here, I've rarely seen you so upset. What gives?"
Patrick folded his arms across his chest and debated how much to tell Cait. Though he knew she could read his mind, he wasn't sure how much of his situation he should tell her or how embarrassed Morgan would be if she knew that he was repeating stuff back to Cait.
Cait sighed. "I know it's about Morgan. I'll hear it one way or the other, so you might as well tell me."
"I stopped by the gallery today to bring her a tea. I kissed her. Aislinn walked in. Morgan freaked out at me for putting her job in jeopardy. I left. End of story." Patrick bit out the words as he clenched his fists, furious at himself for not sticking to the "just friends" agreement.
"Oh, well then," Cait said.
"I mean…like Aislinn would fire her. Come on," Patrick scoffed and paced the small room. He was beginning to wonder why he was even mooning after this girl. At this rate, it would take him years to get close to her.
"No, I don't suppose that Aislinn would at that," Cait agreed. "Just…be gentle with her, okay? She's not like your regular girls."
Patrick rounded on her.
"So everyone keeps saying and yet nobody will really tell me what's so different about her," Patrick seethed.
"She had a rough upbringing. You know this. It has to come from her, not us. Now either you decide to be patient with her and stick it out, or get over her, move on, and get the heck out of my storeroom," Cait ordered and turned, slamming the door, leaving him alone in the storeroom.
Patrick threw up his hands. "I've had it with moody women today," he shouted through the door.
"I heard that!" Cait called to him and Patrick winced.
Chapter Ten
"Why don't we call it a day?" Aislinn said a little while later.
"But, we still have another two hours…" Morgan protested.
"I know. I'd like to get some painting done though and I think that you could use the break. You know, Fiona mentioned needing some help with a few tonics that she was making," Aislinn said, keeping her eyes trained on the prints that she was stacking by the window.
"You too?" Morgan asked. What was with everyone pushing her to go see Fiona?
"It's a nice day for a drive," Aislinn said easily.
"I can't just drive up there and surprise her," Morgan protested, feeling like her last excuse for hiding from Fiona was slipping away.
"Sure and you don't think that you can actually surprise Fiona, do you? That woman knows everything," Aislinn grumbled.
Morgan threw up her hands, frustrated with everything today, and snagged her purse. "Fine, I'll go see Fiona. Happy?"
"Sure and she'll love the help," Aislinn sang after her and Morgan rolled her eyes as she stepped into the courtyard. Her rusty old van was parked by the fence. The door groaned when she opened it, stepping up to situate herself on the cracked leather seat. A rosary hung around the rearview mirror though why Morgan kept it there after what the nuns had done to her was beyond her. She supposed there was a small part of her that still believed in some sort of otherworldly presence…be it the Catholic God or not. Some nights, when things had been really tough,
An hour later, he surveyed his work. Not only had he unloaded all of the new inventory, but he'd reorganized the entire set of liquor shelves by type of liquor, and then in alphabetical order in their sections. With a nod, he turned to leave and jumped to see his pregnant boss standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her impressive belly.
"You work your mad off yet?" Cait asked, shooting him a glare.
"I'm fine," Patrick said, meeting her gaze.
Cait sighed and rubbed her belly, and Patrick immediately felt guilty for leaving her to tend bar.
"Let's get you off your feet. I'm sorry," Patrick said.
Cait waved him away.
"I'm fine. Though I'm happy with the organizing you've done in here, I've rarely seen you so upset. What gives?"
Patrick folded his arms across his chest and debated how much to tell Cait. Though he knew she could read his mind, he wasn't sure how much of his situation he should tell her or how embarrassed Morgan would be if she knew that he was repeating stuff back to Cait.
Cait sighed. "I know it's about Morgan. I'll hear it one way or the other, so you might as well tell me."
"I stopped by the gallery today to bring her a tea. I kissed her. Aislinn walked in. Morgan freaked out at me for putting her job in jeopardy. I left. End of story." Patrick bit out the words as he clenched his fists, furious at himself for not sticking to the "just friends" agreement.
"Oh, well then," Cait said.
"I mean…like Aislinn would fire her. Come on," Patrick scoffed and paced the small room. He was beginning to wonder why he was even mooning after this girl. At this rate, it would take him years to get close to her.
"No, I don't suppose that Aislinn would at that," Cait agreed. "Just…be gentle with her, okay? She's not like your regular girls."
Patrick rounded on her.
"So everyone keeps saying and yet nobody will really tell me what's so different about her," Patrick seethed.
"She had a rough upbringing. You know this. It has to come from her, not us. Now either you decide to be patient with her and stick it out, or get over her, move on, and get the heck out of my storeroom," Cait ordered and turned, slamming the door, leaving him alone in the storeroom.
Patrick threw up his hands. "I've had it with moody women today," he shouted through the door.
"I heard that!" Cait called to him and Patrick winced.
Chapter Ten
"Why don't we call it a day?" Aislinn said a little while later.
"But, we still have another two hours…" Morgan protested.
"I know. I'd like to get some painting done though and I think that you could use the break. You know, Fiona mentioned needing some help with a few tonics that she was making," Aislinn said, keeping her eyes trained on the prints that she was stacking by the window.
"You too?" Morgan asked. What was with everyone pushing her to go see Fiona?
"It's a nice day for a drive," Aislinn said easily.
"I can't just drive up there and surprise her," Morgan protested, feeling like her last excuse for hiding from Fiona was slipping away.
"Sure and you don't think that you can actually surprise Fiona, do you? That woman knows everything," Aislinn grumbled.
Morgan threw up her hands, frustrated with everything today, and snagged her purse. "Fine, I'll go see Fiona. Happy?"
"Sure and she'll love the help," Aislinn sang after her and Morgan rolled her eyes as she stepped into the courtyard. Her rusty old van was parked by the fence. The door groaned when she opened it, stepping up to situate herself on the cracked leather seat. A rosary hung around the rearview mirror though why Morgan kept it there after what the nuns had done to her was beyond her. She supposed there was a small part of her that still believed in some sort of otherworldly presence…be it the Catholic God or not. Some nights, when things had been really tough,
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