“Hmm.” Breen watched Sally pour himself a glass of wine. “That’s quick.”
“I guess it is, but it’s real. I’ve never seen him so happy, or seen him with someone who just gets him, and loves him because he gets him. I felt guilty about Marco coming with me. So sudden, like I stole him from you.”
“Don’t be silly. I like knowing he’s with you. And I like looking at you right now, knowing whatever you found there makes you happy, and gives you what you need.”
“It does. Being able to write here, it’s given me just what I needed—and more, it’s given it when I didn’t really know what I needed until I had it.”
“Derrick and I read your blog every day, and it gives me something—as your honorary mom—I need. Hearing the strong and the happy in you. It’s opened you, my sweet Breen, being there, the writing, the taking your own.”
“It’s changed me.”
“No, honey, it hasn’t changed you. It’s revealed you.” Sally waved a hand, drank some wine. “I have to stop or I’ll get sloppy and ruin my incredible eighties eyeliner.”
Love simply filled her. “How did you know you’re just what I needed tonight?”
He tapped a finger next to his shaggy bangs. “Mother’s instinct. What about Keegan, the hot yet charming Irishman? Still seeing him?”
“Oh, well, yes. I mean, not like Marco and Brian. We’re both really busy anyway.”
“No one’s too busy for love, or lust or just a little romance. What does he do, anyway? I don’t think you ever told me.”
Tricky, Breen thought. Sally could see through lies like glass. “Oh, he’s in a leadership position. The head of a large group.”
“No kidding?” Sally paused to repair his lipstick. “He didn’t strike me as the executive type. I thought there was a farm.”
“Yes, they have a family farm. Keegan, his brother, and his sister, and he bases there when he can. He has another base in the east. He travels back and forth a lot. It’s a lot of responsibility. He’s a responsible sort. People depend on him, and he takes that seriously.”
“That’s good to know. I liked him, but I have to look out for our girl, even from a distance. And I’m thinking, if you and Marco stay there into spring or summer, Derrick and I need to take a trip.”
“Really?” Twin spikes of joy and trepidation rushed through her. “You’d come to Ireland?”
“Need to see my kids, and if this thing with Brian is the real deal, I want to see for myself. And I want to meet your grandmother.”
“She’d love you. You’d love her.”
And she’d figure it out, Breen told herself. Somehow, she’d figure it all out.
“We’ll talk about it. Meanwhile, one more thing before I have to get my well-toned, leather-clad ass moving. If you do plan to stay that long, I’ve got a new girl bartending. She’s a bright one, and oddly from Ireland herself.”
“Really?”
“Not from the Galway area where you are. Dublin—and Meabh knows how to tend bar like she was born for it. You might want to think about subletting her the apartment.”
“Oh. I never thought … That makes sense.”
“I’ll send you her information. You can vet her, but I already have. We don’t hire just anyone here at Sally’s.”
“Yes, thanks, but if you trust her, I trust her. I’ll talk to Marco, but that sounds like something we should do. I mean it’s just sitting there empty.”
“You can sublet it furnished, or we can pack up and store what you don’t want in it.”
“No, it’s fine, furnished is fine. We have everything we want. I’ll talk to Marco tomorrow. Thanks, Sally. Give Derrick a big kiss from me.”
“You can count on that. We love you. Talk soon.”
“We love you. Rock their socks off.”
Sally winked. “Count on that, too.”
When Breen ended the call, she started to go back to her blog. The light rap of knuckles on wood had her looking over. She hadn’t shut her door when she’d come, and now Keegan crouched in the doorway, petting Bollocks.
“Your door was open, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Sally.” Breen set the tablet aside as she rose. “I didn’t hear you come in. If you need to talk to me more about all this, we can go down. I can make tea, or get you a beer.”
He stepped in, eyes on hers. Shut the door behind him. “I’ve had enough talk for the day.”