Whiskey Rebellion (Taking Risks Book 3) Read online

  It was getting a bit annoying and putting all kinds of pressure on me.

  “All the food is here, and the drinks are on this page.” I watch as she goes through the system, and I’m pretty much good. When she finishes, the front door opens, and in comes a little old lady, her face bright as she and Mrs. Maclaster hug tightly.

  “That Mrs. Kacklemore, or Mrs. K. She comes in every Wednesday at this time, and she’ll have the pie and a glass of OC on the rocks.”

  “What’s OC?”

  “It’s the first whiskey the O’Callaghan’s put out.”

  “Cool,” I answer as I show her I know what I’m doing. When the receipt comes out, she smiles as she takes it from me.

  “We might make it, Jackson.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  She flashes me a grin as she puts the receipt on the pin that is in front of the carry-out window. “I’ll get her taken care of. Can you stock tubs?”

  I don’t understand what she is saying until she points to the refrigerator trays. “Yeah, no problem. More oranges than lemons, right?”

  “You listened.”

  “I did,” I answer, and she laughs.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  I nod as I grab both of them and head to the back through the swinging door as Fiona follows behind me for a piece of pie. I don’t pay her any mind and appreciate when she doesn’t hover. She’s actually been way easier than the other pub owners I’ve worked with. After gathering everything, I get to work cutting and putting everything into its spot in the tubs, as Fiona called them. This is always boring busywork, and usually, I hate it, but then the conversation from the pub finds its way to me.

  “Yes, Shelia. I no lie. It’s right here. Look.”

  “My goodness! What was the lass thinking? Her ma here, dying, and she’s off whoring around?” Mrs. Maclaster adds, and I hear Fiona moan loudly.

  “You’s shouldn’t be talking about Lena like that. It’s all rubbish!” At the mention of Lena’s name, I can’t help but get closer so I can hear. “She’s family, ya know.”

  “Ah, hush, girl,” Mrs. Maclaster scolds. “I just don’t understand. Everything was so quiet when she was in Dublin.”

  “Yeah, but then she went to London and went a bit crazy!”

  “It’s just so hard to believe.”

  “She apparently had nineteen lovers. One said she didn’t even know who he was when they woke up together.”

  “No!” Mrs. Maclaster gasps, and I make a face. Am I a part of those nineteen, or am I twenty and they don’t know about me? Even I don’t believe this shit. That girl wasn’t really a whore.

  “I don’t believe it. She’s such a sweet lass. So regal, like her ma.”

  “I heard she’s lost it. Went off the deep end, ya know.”

  Then Fiona is speaking. “Maybe she just went and lived her teenage years since she was set to marry that wanker? You’s don’t know anything, and the Royal Times is a bunch of shite. They said Amberlyn was pregnant for months before she even got pregnant. I don’t believe it.”

  “I tell ya, girl, it’s true. Right around the time Casey Burke got out of jail.”

  “Ah! Yeah. Six months ago, yeah.”

  “Casey Burke is nothing to someone like Lena. Please.”

  Who’s Casey Burke?

  “No! It’s true. I saw her at the train station. She looks as if she’s been run through by a rugby team.”

  That had all the ladies laughing, but it kind of bothered me. Lena didn’t look like that at all. She looked like she didn’t give any of the fucks anymore, not that she was sleeping with God and everybody as they made her seem. I want so desperately to say something, but since I’m number twenty, apparently, I should keep my mouth shut.

  “I don’t believe—” When Fiona’s voice drops off, I peek out the window to see people entering.

  And when Lena appears out from behind some really tall guy, I fall face first into the prep table. “Fuck,” I mutter as I close my eyes. That hurt really bad.

  “Ah! Declan, Amberlyn! Oh, Lena, we didn’t know you were coming,” Mrs. Maclaster calls.

  “Yeah, I’m hiding from me ma. She’s a bit upset with me.”

  God, she has such a sweet-sounding voice.

  “Oh, no,” old Mrs. Kacklemore says. “She see the papers?”

  “It’s a bunch of rubbish, that paper is,” a very low and commanding voice announces. “Ya best to stop reading it, Mrs. K.”

  “I hear ya, Declan, I hear ya.”

  “Well, nonetheless, we’re glad to have ya. Ya look fit, beautiful as always.”

  “Thanks,” Lena says then as chairs move, and soon everyone is talking. I can’t make out who is who, and I really don’t know what to do. Do I finish and take the trays out? Or do I stay back here? Why don’t I want to go out there? I wanted to see her, but not like this. I don’t want to embarrass her.

  “So, a nice holiday, Lena?”

  “Yeah, it was nice, thank you, Mrs. Maclaster. Fiona, this Cathmor is top, yeah?”

  “It’s an original,” I hear Fiona call from the bar. “I’ve got an in with the owner.”

  Declan chuckles. “Yer lucky I have to give that to you.”

  “Have to? No. You want to ’cause yer married to my cousin.”

  “That’s why I’ve got to, or she’ll hold out on me!”

  Laughter fills the pub.

  “Y’all are insane,” a very American voice says. “Lena, would you like to hold Ronan?”

  “Always,” Lena says. “You don’t have to ask, Amberlyn. Ever. Just hand him over to his aintín, ya sweet bae. Aintín loves you so.”

  Ah, that cooing voice of hers will be the death of me.

  When the door opens, I look up to see Fiona coming through. She makes a face, and I stand up. “I dropped something.”

  “Well, ya gotta find it, please.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, dropping to the floor to look for the something I dropped. Without a second glance, she whizzes out of the kitchen and then back in as the conversation continues in the pub. Making sure I’m out of the way, I keep cutting as I listen.

  “She’s in fits with me ’cause I didn’t go to the appointment with Franco this morning,” Lena says with a laugh.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t want to. I don’t want my hair done or to wear dresses that will be too tight, and she’ll bitch at me some more. I just need another week before I have to become her.”

  Declan laughs. “Ya can postpone meeting with Franco all ya want, but she’ll get ya in there, and then that’s that.”

  “Yeah, I know. But until then, I’m going to wear everything she hates and not do my hair.”

  More laughter until Mrs. Maclaster says, “It’s so strange not seeing ya done up, Lena.”

  “Yeah, but it’s feckin’ grand.”

  “Lena! Yer mouth,” Mrs. Maclaster scolds, and Lena laughs.

  “Sorry, I forgot where I am.”

  “You’d never curse before,” Mrs. Kacklemore says, and just like that, a silence falls over the crowd. When I peek out, everyone is watching Lena like she is a science experiment. I can’t help but drink in her beautiful face, her blue eyes, and that hair that I swear is longer than the last time I saw her. I glance to the portrait on the wall, where she is all made-up, and I don’t know which one makes me want her more.

  Or if it’s just her.

  When the door opens again, I quickly shut the trays as Fiona gives me yet another look. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’ll take those, and you start bringing those plates out. Set them on the bar, then get the ice for the chest, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I say as she disappears once more.

  I do as she asks, my head down as I set each plate on the bar. When Fiona meets me halfway, taking two of them, I rush back into the back with the bucket in hand for the ice. Heading to the ice machine, I replay everything I just h