Page 10 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

I didn’t answer. I just kept looking at him until the silence between us became heavier than anything either of us had said.

***

Murphy’s was really loud that night—the kind of loud that didn’t feel real anymore. It was so much noise the room was vibrating with it.

Music from the jukebox was trying to be heard over the sound of glasses hitting the wood and people laughing and shouting near the dartboard. The smell of beer mixed with the smell of fried food from the kitchen and damp coats. It was the kind of smell that stuck to your skin and clothes whether you liked it or not.

Everything looked normal, but my mind kept going to my dad standing outside that shop. I kept thinking about the way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was watching him.

A customer snapped his fingers near the counter.

My eyes went up immediately. “Are you going to order something,” I said, wiping down the bar, “or are you just going to stare at me all night?”

The man looked surprised, but then he laughed awkwardly. “Whiskey.”

I slid a glass to him and said, “See? Words work.”

Someone two stools down smiled a little. There was a brief moment of laughter, but it passed quickly, like allmoments did at Murphy’s. Nora came over to me twenty minutes later, carrying a tray of empty glasses against her hip.

“You’ve insulted three customers in less than half an hour,” she said.

“Three?” I replied. “I should have insulted twelve by now.”

Nora put the glasses down hard. The sound cut through the noise for a second. “What happened?” she asked.

My hand stopped for a second, and then I kept pouring. “Nothing.”

Nora stared at me. I could feel her looking at me even though I didn’t look up. She was annoying because she never pushed me to talk, she just waited.

I sighed slowly. “I saw my dad earlier.”

“What happened?”

I shrugged. “Some men were talking to him.”

“Talking?” she asked.

I slid another drink across the counter. “About…unfinished business.”

Nora was quiet for a moment. The noise of the pub filled the space between us, and then she asked, “You think he owes them money?”

My head came up before I could stop it. “No,” I said quickly, but then I paused. “I mean…I don’t know. Maybe. They kept talking about obligations.”

Nora folded a towel slowly. “It sounds shady. You could ask someone if they know those guys.”

“My father?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “You know that man who comes in here every night and stares at you?”

I frowned. “The creep in the corner?”

Nora nodded. “His name is Sean O’Connor.”

The name sounded heavy, like it meant something. I knew his last name was O’Connor, but I didn’t know his first name until Nora said it.

“I don’t want to talk to him,” I said.

Nora continued anyway. “His family has been here forever. He owns half the construction projects in Southie. People go to him when they have problems.”