Kellan

“You could get it fixed,” he said. “I could help you out with that.”

Gelsey opened the back hatch of the Fiat and put the box she carried inside. Kellan dropped his box next to the first and shut the hatch. But the catch didn’t always work and it took three tries before the hatch stayed closed. “Yeah, you definitely need a better car.”

She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Have I told you what a good man you are?”

“I believe you have,” Kellan said. “Usually in bed. I think this might be the first time outside the bedroom.”

“I’ve never said that in the bedroom.”

“Not in those exact words,” he said.

“What words did I use?”

“Little words,” Kellan teased. “Like…oh and…yes. And then sometimes you say my name over and over. I may be wrong, but I assumed you were telling me I was a good man.”

Gelsey laughed. “You assumed right. But I think I need to say it out loud more often.” She tipped her face up to the sun. “Kellan Quinn is a very good man,” she shouted.

“He’s a feckin’ gobshite.”

The voice came from the direction of Danny’s smithy and Kellan shrugged. “I guess we have other opinions on the subject.”

“That’s because they’ve never spent a night in bed with you,” Gelsey replied.

“Actually, my brothers and I used to share a bed when we were little.”

“You know what I mean,” Gelsey said.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

THE LATE-AFTERNOON SUN shone through the plate-glass windows of Maeve Dunphrey’s shop, illuminating dust motes with every movement that Gelsey made. She pushed up on her tiptoes to grab a box from the top shelf of the old wooden wall displays, then carefully made her way down the wobbly ladder.

“Some of this stuff has to be forty years old,” she said, setting the box on the counter in front of her. “I suppose we should try to salvage some of these jars. They’re so pretty and, technically, they are vintage.”

Jordan walked over and pulled a jar of lavender-scented lotion from the box. She screwed off the top and gave in a sniff before wrinkling her nose. “Yeah, this is pretty far gone. But the jar is lovely.”

“I can go see if they have an old bucket at the Hound,” Nan offered. “We can dump the stuff in there and then put the jars through the pub’s dishwasher.”

Gelsey nodded, grateful for the help that Nan and Jordan had offered. She’d spent a fair bit of her first week of work just cleaning, going through boxes and crates, discarding old inventory and taking stock of what was available in the store. When Nan and Jordan had stopped by a few days ago, they’d offered to help and had returned every afternoon since, making the job much more pleasant.

Nan stood in the center of the sales floor, her hands hitched on her waist, and surveyed the nearly tidy shop. “It’s actually starting to look good,” she said. “All these old wooden cases look beautiful, once you can see them.”

“Thank you so much for helping out,” Gelsey said. “You girls really didn’t need to do this.”

“You helped paint my house,” Nan said.

“And hopefully, you’ll be around when I have some tedious chore to do,” Jordan added. “Are you really thinking of buying this place?”

Gelsey nodded. “Yes. I think I could make a success of it. There’s a little shop like this on the Rue des Arts in Paris and women flock to it. They send their empty jars from all over the world to get them refilled. I bought night cream from them all the time, even when I was living in Portugal with Antonio.”

Nan and Jordan glanced at each other. “You lived in Portugal?”

Gelsey blinked, surprised that she had been so honest with them. Over the past few days, they’d become good friends and she hadn’t thought to continue the pretense. And now, in a single unguarded moment, she’d given it all away. “That was a lifetime ago.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “It’s beautiful there. Very…sunny. Much like Spain. I lived there for a time, too.”

Nan glanced at Jordan again, then looked back at Gelsey. “We know about Portugal. And Antonio. We’ve sort of known the truth from early on.”

“You did?”

Jordan walked over to the counter and retrieved her purse then rummaged through it. A few moments later, she pulled out a magazine clipping and handed it to Gelsey. “I came across that while I was waiting to get my hair cut in Glengarriff. It’s from Hello! magazine from a year ago.”

The picture wasn’t one of her best, Gelsey thought as she examined it closely. She was wearing a designer dress that barely covered her ass, an ass that was quite visible in the photo. A champagne bottle dangled from one hand and a cigarette from the other. “I was so drunk, I don’t remember anyone taking this photo,” she murmured, handing it back to Jordan. “It doesn’t even look like me.”

“You’re Gigi Woodson,” Nan said.

“I was Gigi Woodson.”

Jordan crumpled up the clipping and tossed it into a nearby rubbish bin. “Does Kellan know?”

Gelsey winced. “No. But I’m pretty sure he’s about to find out.”

“We’re not going to say a word,” Jordan said. “We promise.”

“If you know about Antonio, then I’m sure you know about the incident with the Italian photographer?”

Nan shook her head. “No. And you don’t have to tell us. We really don’t need to know.”

“Thank you,” Gelsey said. “I suppose I should be glad I managed to get away with it for this long. I assumed someone would recognize me sooner or later.” She raked her hand through her hair, then forced a smile. “I guess I haven’t changed all that much.”

“You look completely different,” Jordan disagreed.

“Completely,” Nan added.

“I felt like I recognized you when we met,” Jordan continued, “but I couldn’t figure out where it had been. And when I saw the photo in Hello!, it just clicked.”

Suddenly, a rush of emotion overwhelmed Gelsey. She fought back tears as she picked up the crumpled clipping. “You can show him,” she murmured, holding it out to Nan. “I-I don’t care. It really shouldn’t make a difference.” Gelsey felt a hand on her back and she found Jordan standing behind her. “I just really wanted to start over.”

“We’re not going to say anything,” Jordan said.

“Not even to Danny and Riley?” Gelsey asked.

Nan laughed. “Are you kidding? Those two are horrible at keeping secrets. But to be honest, I don’t think it’s such a big deal. Kellan loves you. He won’t care.”

“He doesn’t love me,” Gelsey said. “And you’ve only seen one photo. There are hundreds out there. And none of them make me look very good. At least, not to a guy like Kellan.” A tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away, embarrassed by her show of emotion. Drawing a ragged breath, she forced a smile. “I think we should call it a day. It’s nearly four and you two have your own things to do.”

Nan patted Gelsey on the shoulder, then thought better of it and gave her a clumsy hug. “It will all work itself out,” she said. “You’ll see.”

Jordan gave her a hug, as well. “Kellan is a good guy. He wouldn’t let something like this change his feelings for you.”

The girls grabbed their jackets and purses and headed out the front door. Gelsey waved to them as they passed by the windows, going toward the pub. She had at least a few more hours of work ahead of her, but it was better to pass that time on her own, rather that be faced with more explanations.

Maybe Nan and Jordan were right. Maybe her past wouldn’t make any difference to Kellan. At least at first. But once everyone else knew, once the press figured out where she was, Gelsey couldn’t guarantee that he’d feel the same way.

She’d fought a five-year battle with the paparazzi and in most of the skirmishes, she’d lost badly. In the end, Gigi Woodson sold papers and that was all that mattered. They’d followed her through two broken engagements, a stint in rehab and a very ill-conceived six-day marriage to an already married Argentinean polo player. The end of