Open Play (Passion Players), page 3
As she continued down the cobblestone roads, she noted an old bakery. Est. 1941, Ayanna read and promised herself she’d stop in for some treats to bring back for the McKinleys. She peeked into the many bars lining the streets, a partying college student’s spring break fantasy. Her own college days had been filled with books and the occasional party when Charlotte had come up to visit. Ayanna popped into a clothing store and picked out a funky, green, hand-knit, wool loop scarf with dark-brown buttons, for her bestie. Apparently, Ayanna’s pastime preferences hadn’t changed that much. She’d been shopping for others since she was eleven, and though it was no longer mandatory, it was still second nature.
Ayanna matched the material against her army-green skinny-jeans-covered legs and was trying on the scarf when a saleswoman approached her. “These are of wool from the Aran Islands.” The woman showed her how the buttons fastened to make a neat wrap around her neck for a snug fit.
“Oh.” Ayanna smiled at the woman.
“They’re naturally water resistant because they keep their lanolin oil. Garments knit from this wool were popular among the seamen,” she explained.
Ayanna nodded along. “That’s great information. I wish that was on the tags where I shop. Most I get on a tag is cotton or polyester. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The woman’s cheeks reddened, and she smiled at the compliment.
“They’re very special. I’ll take it.” Charlotte would love it. An additional natural-colored one for herself made it to the checkout counter.
Ayanna’s next order of business? Go to a real Irish pub and have a proper pint. It was on Charlotte’s list, as was the Guinness Storehouse. Ayanna couldn’t help but wonder if Charlotte’s main goal for the trip was being drunk the majority of the time.
She found a few pubs named after the area and gravitated to a lively spot. The blue-and-white storefront reminiscent of Santorini lured her in. The hour was late enough in the afternoon and early enough in the day for her to enjoy another drink without feeling like a lush by her standards. Ayanna entered the place, and her stomach lurched at the fragrance of baking bread that cut through any smell of ales on tap. Loud shouts drew her attention to a group of too-handsome men cornered in a space by the bar. Other patrons watched a soccer match on high-perched plasma screens.
She might have been more interested if she weren’t tired, hungry, and somewhere between decreasingly buzzed and fully sober. She needed to get food into herself, and soon. Ayanna slid onto a cushioned wooden stool at the bar, and a bartender approached. “What can I get ya?” he asked.
“Can I get an Irish pale ale, please?”
“American, eh?”
Ayanna touched her nose with one hand and pointed at him with the other. “What gave it away? The accent? No, let me guess . . . my order.”
“The accent.” He smiled. “And your order. Kinsale?”
“Uhhh . . .” Stumped. When had ordering a beer gotten this hard? “What’s a Kinsale?”
“It’s an Irish pale ale.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.” She relaxed like she’d just completed a state exam.
The bartender slapped down a circular cardboard coaster embossed with the bar logo and dashed to get her drink.
“Don’t go too far.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “I got in this morning, and I’m starving. Can I order food with you?”
“Course.” The bartender opened a leather menu and handed it to her.
“This won’t take long.” She scanned the menu while he pulled her pint. Pizza? That was all that was on the menu. She’d landed in an Irish pub that only served pizza? “Oh, come on,” she muttered to herself, but hunger overruled. To make things interesting, she decided on a pizza with smoked chicken and fresh chilies. Ingredients she’d never had on a pie in New York.
“I’ll have your pollo caldo.”
“Good choice. Comin’ up.” For a weekday, the bar hopped, and Ayanna equated it to the beginning of happy hour as it filled up. Her bartender returned with a frosty glass.
“What brings you to Ireland?” His blond man bun and matching fluffy beard decorated a handsome, square face. He moved quickly, whether he was tossing coasters down for his patrons or asking her a question. He could have been from Brooklyn if not for the accent.
“Vacation.”
“Welcome to our fair, beautiful, and green country.”
“Thank you.” She lifted her beer to him and sipped.
“Are you visiting alone or with friends?” His fingers hugged the bar rim.
Ayanna struggled with her answer. She’d toured the city solo, and no one but she needed to know that. Her bartender didn’t give her any heebie-jeebies, and by how long it took her to answer, any lie would be detected. She blurted the truth. “Alone but staying with a wonderful family.”
“There’s lots to see and do here. You’ll meet loads of people. We’ll look after ya.”
“Thanks. Anything you suggest I see while I’m here?” She had a list of things already scheduled, but if she had time to squeeze in anything else, she’d rather go with a local’s recommendation.
He opened his mouth to speak.
She held up a finger. “Before you answer. Let me just inform you that I’ve already done a few stops on the big red tour bus.”
“I can suggest a place,” an energetic baritone floated from behind her.
Ayanna turned her head to lock eyes with one of the too-handsome men she had seen on her way in. Tall with an athletic build, the man parked himself between her and the stool next to hers before he addressed the bartender. “I got it, Liam.”
Ayanna tilted her head to meet his light-brown eyes. He sported a five-o’clock shadow, and the messy dark hair on his head peeked out from beneath a heather-gray beanie. He peered down at her off-the-shoulder baby-powder-white knit sweater.
Liam nodded and tended to another patron.
“Thank you.” Ayanna pulled her eyes away from him, her yellow-and-white-gold bracelet dangling as she slowly spun her beer glass to two o’clock. A warm, woodsy scent with hints of ginger awakened her like a shot of espresso.
“You’re welcome.” He set his glass down before holding his hand out to her. “Name’s Eoghan.”
“Ayanna.” She grasped his large, strong hand, his skin slightly cool and damp from holding his pint.
Eoghan squeezed and continued to hold her fingers while a boyish smile splashed on his face, which tugged a similar reaction from her lips.
She extracted her hand from his grip. “So you have some suggestions for me or what?”
“Right.” Redness kissed Eoghan’s cheeks and made him even more attractive. “Well, deer’s Christ Church Cathedral if you’re da religious type, but really, the arch’tecture’s pretty impressive. If you’re wantin’ to see da animals, head on over to Phoenix Park. You’ll find the zoo here’s a bit different from what you ’ave in America.” He spoke with a fast and heavy accent.
“Hey, Eoghan? I know you are speaking English,” she interrupted, “but would you mind slowing down a little for me?”
“Yeah, I talk a bit fast, even for me mates. I’ll Americanize it for ye,” he said.
“No, don’t do that. I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” she pleaded. “Just a tiny bit slower, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay.” He lightly pinched his lower lip with his index finger and thumb. “Then, of course, you have the Guinness Storehouse. It’s for sure a tourist spot but worth visiting.”
Ayanna had to concentrate on listening to the information, because the musical flow of his words delighted her. “So . . . obviously you missed the part where I explained to Liam here that I’ve been hopping on and off the big red bus with the Dublin pass all day. I’m looking for recommendations that are off the beaten path. I’ve seen the places you’ve mentioned so far.”
“When did you arrive,” he asked.
“This morning,” she said.
His eyes popped out of his head. “You work fast.”
Little did he know that was her MO. Still, she wanted to branch out for the times when she didn’t necessarily want to follow her preplanned itinerary. She wasn’t going to be in Ireland for much longer and was curious about what else there might be to do. “What do you guys do here for fun?”
“Much of the same things you do in America, but there are many pints and matches in between.”
Ayanna couldn’t mistake the team loyalty that floated around the bar. “Is there a game today? I mean, match?”
“Rugby or football?” Eoghan asked.
Ayanna shrugged. “Uhh . . . let’s go with football?”
“All right, then.” He squinted at her uncertainty. “No, the football match is the day after next.” Eoghan straightened and grew in height.
“And it’s sold out too,” Liam called from the other end of the bar.
Ayanna gave herself some credit for knowing that football meant soccer. “Seems like people are pretty fanatic about football.”
He played with the rim of his beanie. “Yeah. Ever been to a match?”
“No. The opportunities to see soccer/football have gotten a lot better, but it’s still not as popular in the US as it is here. Except for the women’s team, of course.” Ayanna sipped her beer.
“Shame,” he said. “Well, do you like football, then?”
Ayanna thought about it. “I don’t know, really. I’ve watched a little here and there. I wasn’t bored, per se, but . . . you know, I understand it for the most part, but I don’t seek it out. Do you play at all?”
Eoghan chuckled, as did a few people around them. “A bit.”
Ayanna side-eyed the peanut gallery. “I know it’s very popular in Europe.”
“All over the world, actually. America is the exception, but like you said, it’s changing with your national team, where the women dominate. You should see a match while you’re here.” Eoghan rested his elbows and forearms on the bar and spun his beer in place. “Would you like to go?”
A football match in Ireland? That had to be the soccer lover’s dream. For her, though, it’d be something different to do and a story in her arsenal to share. “That would be cool, but if I heard Liam correctly, it’s sold out.”
“I can get an extra ticket,” Eoghan declared.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
Well, if he really could get an extra ticket . . . it could be fun.
“Are ya up for it, Ayanna?” Eoghan’s good-looking charm cast a “he’s not dangerous at all” spell, and he seemed to be well liked in the bar, but the truth was, she didn’t know him.
“We just met,” Ayanna said. “I don’t know.”
Eoghan stood close enough that she heard the sound of his fingernails scratching the stubble on his chin over the noise in the bar. “We’ve shared a pint, and I’ve been your trusted tourism guide. We’re practically dating, so. At the very least we’re friends. Ireland is known for its hospitality, you know.” Eoghan nudged her with his body, and the connection made her sit up straight.
“Practically dating, huh?” Ayanna laughed. She had never been one to throw caution to the wind, but when she searched Eoghan’s eyes, she felt as though she could trust him enough to at least attend a soccer game. Not to mention the hologram of miniature Charlotte on her shoulder hollering at her about Irish boos and once-in-a-lifetime opportunities.
When would she get a chance to see a soccer game in Ireland again? Plus, a stadium couldn’t get more public. “Okay. Yes. I’ll go to the game.”
“Great. It’s at Aviva Stadium. You can walk to it from here.”
“Yeah, you can’t miss it,” Ayanna agreed. The huge stadium towered above the city.
They exchanged information, and Ayanna scrutinized what he’d written in the name field on her phone. “What’s that, a code name?” She showed him and spelled it out: “E-O-G-H-A-N. I don’t even know how to pronounce that.”
“That’s my name. You’ve been pronouncing it just fine since we’ve met.”
“Oh. I assumed it was spelled O-W-E-N?”
He shook his head. “That’s sooooo American,” he teased.
“Touché.”
“Meet me here at around two,” he instructed. “It’s important you let me know what you’re wearing. It’ll be jammers on the day.”
“Jammers?” Ayanna asked.
“Crowded,” he clarified.
“Oh.” Ayanna chuckled and logged the word in her growing Irish-slang file. “That stadium is gigantic. I can imagine thousands of people attend.”
Eoghan smiled like he harbored a secret.
“What’s that smile about?”
“Nothin’.” He again played with his hat. “It’ll be an experience. I promise you that.”
“Hmmm. I’m trusting you. Don’t let me down.” Ayanna sipped her beer.
“I won’t.” His eyes rested on her lips.
His flirt game was tight. She had only known him for a nanosecond, and yet here she was blushing, bashful. When her own eyes fluttered to flirt, she acknowledged how much she liked him already.
“Your order.” A server presented her meal, shaking them from their playful yet unspoken exchange.
“Oh. Thank you,” she said and focused on her food and the fragrant smell of the smoked chicken, mixed peppers, pancetta, cheese, and sauce. The pizza had her wishing she could transport to her lodging at the McKinleys’, slip into her pajamas alone, and devour the hell out of that pizza. Instead she pinched the smallest slice and took a careful bite. “Mmm,” she moaned as the flavors exploded in her mouth. Fuck it. She took a healthier bite. “Please, Eoghan, help yourself.”
“I just had a whole one. Enjoy.” He patted his stomach and settled against the bar, which brought him closer to her.
“Oh, I will. It’s so good.” His body heat warmed her right side. The way he watched her gobble down her food made her pause and drink some beer.
“So, Ayanna, what part of America are you from?”
She dabbed a napkin at the corners of her mouth. “New York.”
He arched a high brow at her plate. “And you’re having pizza. Here?”
Her hands dropped to her lap. “I know, right? Thanks for judging me, but I get it.”
The carefree way he shook his body sent a gentle breeze her way, and the hint of his fragrance tickled her nose.
“I was hungry, and this place looked really cute . . . the rest is history,” she said. “Have you ever been to New York?” Ayanna waited for the normal love-or-hate responses about her city.
“Loads of times.” He waved a hand as if he commuted there on a regular basis. “It’s a great city. I’m to be there for a wedding this summer, but with work it’s not likely.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” she briefly commented. “Well, I’m not in the city, exactly, but I’m not too far from it. Do you know the town of New Rochelle?”
“’Fraid not,” Eoghan offered.
“It’s a nice town. Most of Westchester County is pretty nice.”
“I sort of know some other towns in Westchester but not many. What d’ya do there?” he asked.
“I’m a physical-rehabilitation therapist.” Ayanna beamed. She loved her work, but in social settings like this she wished she could be more like Charlotte and just lie.
“Oh, you help people after injuries and surgeries, then?” he inquired.
“Yes.” She shoved more pizza into her face. He didn’t need to know that she specialized in knee injuries and worked with elite athletes or that those in her field labeled her as the woman with magic hands.
“That’s grand,” he said.
“Yeah, I love what I do.” Ayanna restrained herself from blabbing about her job by mirroring the questioning. “And you, Eoghan? What do you do here in Dublin?”
Eoghan took a long sip of his pint. She didn’t think she’d asked him a trick question, but it took him a long time to answer. “I’m involved in sports. I travel a bit with my work, and, um . . .”
An anomaly of a man, with light-gray eyes in stark contrast to the darkest and richest brown skin on a person she’d ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on, rushed over to them. He gave Eoghan a hard slap on the shoulder. Eoghan elbowed the man in the ribs.
“C’mon, Eoghan. Time to go,” the man said. Add another layer of confusion when the most Irish of accents came from his mouth. For Ayanna, experiencing this man obliterated one stereotype after another, and she loved each and every contradiction. He was, in a word, striking. “We have to be at the hotel.”
“Is it time, then?” Eoghan addressed his friend, yet his eyes returned to her.
Ayanna enjoyed the interaction between them as she finished her pint. They shared the familiarity of longtime friends.
“Ayanna, this is Pippin. Pippin? Ayanna.”
She reached for Pippin’s hand. “Hello there, Pippin.”
“Lovely to meet you, darlin’,” he cooed, and Ayanna blushed at his obvious wink.
Eoghan gave Pippin a bit of a shove. “He’s a full-on flirt. Ignore him.”
Ayanna rubbernecked at Eoghan. “And you’re not?”
“I’m more subtle than this one.” Eoghan pointed sideways to Pippin, whose innocent smile stayed plastered on his face.
Ayanna giggled and couldn’t help but enjoy their easy conversation. “Well, it looks like you have to head out.”
Eoghan hesitated before departing and called to Liam. “Another for the lady. I’ll cover her meal as well.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to do that. I’ve had a pint, and it was great. I don’t need another.”
