16
Luke had been over his pages of lists at least a dozen times by late afternoon on Thursday. Every item had been checked off and rechecked. The aromas in the kitchen reminded him of Gram’s, and he knew for a fact that the dishes tasted just the way they were supposed to. The bar was stocked. The tables and chairs were where they were meant to be. The waitstaff had all been here early, listening intently to Moira’s suggestions. It should have put his mind at ease, but so far he felt only a terrible churning in his stomach.
“What can I do to help?” Moira asked, standing behind his chair to massage his shoulders, which were knotted with tension.
“Nothing,” he said, wanting only to get through his momentary panic on his own. This was his pub, his success or failure. He’d never had so much at stake before in his life.
“Everyone’s ready,” she said, obviously trying to soothe him. “You’ve hired an excellent waitstaff. They’re all reasonably experienced and more than eager for this place to do well. They’ll provide just the right combination of energy and solicitous service.”
“I know that,” he said. “I don’t need a pep talk, Moira.”
She frowned at his impatient words. “I’m just trying to help, Luke.”
Regretting that he’d snapped at her, he touched her hand. “I know that, but all I need is for the doors to open and for this night to get started. I’ll calm down then.” Another stab of panic knifed through him. “Did the band get here? They were lost on some country road an hour ago when they called for directions.”
She smiled and motioned for him to listen. “Can’t you hear them tuning up?”
“And the setup is okay for them? I should go out there. Make sure everything’s the way they want it.”
Pressure on his shoulders kept him in place. “I’ve already checked,” Moira reassured him. “They have everything they need. The sound check has gone off without a hitch. I promise you, Luke, it’s all good. Would you like me to bring you a drink? It might steady your nerves.”
He shook his head. Taking a drink now would send him off on a dangerous path. He’d never been especially tempted by alcohol, but he didn’t want to chance turning to drink to get through a bad case of nerves. It was far too easy to go from an occasional excuse to a nasty habit. He’d seen too much of it at college, had lost a friend to it after a party had gotten wildly out of hand and the friend had tried to drive home drunk. He’d hit a tree and died at the scene. Luke had found his twisted car just moments after the accident. He still shuddered when he thought of it. Now, as the owner of a pub, he’d vowed that no one would leave here with car keys in hand if they’d had too much to drink. Not ever. Law or not, he took it as a personal responsibility.
He forced himself to shake off the memory from that long-ago tragedy, which was easier when he heard Moira’s next attempt to quiet his worries.
“We could run to your place for a quick tumble in your bed,” she suggested, at least half-seriously judging from the glint in her eyes. “There’s time enough.”
He laughed at last. “Since when has a few minutes ever been enough for us?” he asked. “But thanks for the incredibly tempting offer. If anything could distract me right now, that could.”
She smiled, though he sensed that she was trying to mask a hint of disappointment.
“There’s nothing I can do, then?” she inquired plaintively.
“Nothing except to run for your life, so I don’t wind up snapping your head off when I don’t mean to.”
She nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll be out front if you think of anything I can do to help.”
After she’d left his office with unmistakable reluctance, he felt awful for banishing her, but he knew he needed to face tonight alone. This was his life on the line, his future.
How could Moira possibly understand what it meant to him to prove himself? Only one other O’Brien had ever failed spectacularly, and that was Bree. She’d more than made up for it now, both with her business and her theater, but it had taken her a long time to get past feeling like a failure when she’d come back from Chicago after a play of hers had bombed with the critics. And she was a woman. It was, he thought, worse for a man, though he could think of a few O’Brien women who’d chop off his most valued parts for suggesting such a thing.
He drew in a deep breath, then set his clipboard down on his desk. That wasn’t going to save him now. Murmuring a little prayer under his breath, he opened the door and went out to face whatever the night would bring. At least, he told himself, he’d be surrounded tonight by a horde of friendly O’Briens.
Even though this was Luke’s big night, Moira was a nervous wreck on her own behalf as well. Not only was she going to be taking photos and trying to pitch in with the waitstaff or wherever else she might be needed, but she would be on display as Luke’s girlfriend. It was one thing to have his family’s approval, but now she had to impress the elite in this tight-knit community. Having Luke reject her earlier attempts to bolster his spirits hadn’t helped with her sudden flood of insecurities.
It was Jess who
