The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

that the man would have licked his plate if there’d been no one about to notice, Shawn felt he’d done his part.
    So it was mischief, as much as business sense, that had him going out to take Finkle a portion of lemon cheesecake.
    Relaxed from the meal, and Darcy’s attentions, Finkle offered Shawn what might have passed for a smile. “I don’t know when I’ve had better fish. You run a creative kitchen, Mr. Gallagher.”
    “That’s kind of you to say, sir. I hope you’ll enjoy this. ’Tis me own recipe, fiddled about somewhat from that of my dear old granny. I don’t believe you’ll find better when you return to London.”
    Finkle, just about to take the first bite, paused with his fork in the air. “New York,” he said, very precisely.
    Shawn let himself blink. “New York? Oh, sure, and it’s New York I meant. The man from London was thin as a skate and wore little round glasses. You’d think I’d be able to keep it all straight, wouldn’t you, now?”
    Keeping his expression pleasant, Finkle casually took a sample of the cake. “So . . . you’ve spoken to someone from London about a restaurant, was it?”
    “Oh, Aidan, he does the talking. I’ve no head for business at all. Is the cake to your liking?”
    “It’s excellent.” The man had a slow brain, Finkle mused, but no one could fault his cooking skills. “The man from London,” he pressed. “Would you happen to know his name? I have a number of acquaintances there.”
    Shawn stared up at the ceiling, rubbed his chin. “Was it Finkle? Oh, no, that would be you.” With a sweet and harmless expression covering his face, he lifted empty hands. “I’ve a bad habit of forgetting names. But he was a very pleasant individual, as you are yourself, sir. If you find you’ve room for another portion of cake, just let Darcy know.”
    He strolled back to the kitchen, catching Aidan’s eye with a wink.
    Ten minutes later Darcy poked her head into the kitchen and hissed, “Finkle asked for a moment of Aidan’s time. They’ve gone into the snug.”
    “That’s fine, then. Let me know if you need help at the bar.”
    “Consider I’ve let you know. Frank Malloy’s come in with his brothers.”
    “He had words with his wife again?”
    “That’s the face he’s wearing. I’ll not be able to keep up with them, and the rest of the customers.”
    “I’m coming, then.”
    He was pulling the second pint for the Malloys—all of whom were burly-built men with straw-colored hair who made their living from the sea—when Aidan and Finkle stepped out of the snug.
    He nodded good night to Aidan, then to Shawn. And for a moment as he glanced toward Darcy, his stern face fell into lines as soft as a hopeful puppy’s.
    “Are you turning in for the evening so early, then, Mr. Finkle?” Darcy set her tray on the bar, then sent the poor man a smile that could have melted slab chocolate at twenty paces.
    “I—” He had no choice but to tug at the meticulously knotted tie, as his throat was suddenly thick. “I’m afraid I must. I have a plane to catch in the morning.”
    “Oh, you’re leaving us altogether?” She held out a hand for his. “I’m sorry you can’t stay longer, and hope you’ll come back again when you’re able.”
    “I’m quite sure I’ll be back.” Unable to help himself, Finkle did something he’d never so much as considered doing before in his life, even with his wife. He kissed Darcy’s hand. “It’s been a great pleasure.”
    A faint flush of pink riding on his cheeks, he left the pub.
    “Well?” Darcy demanded, spinning around to Aidan. “
    “Let’s give this a minute, just to be sure Finkle doesn’t turn about, rush back in, and throw himself to his knees to beg you to run off with him to Tahiti.”
    Darcy chuckled and shook her head. “No, the man loves his wife. Now he might allow himself a misty dream about what the two of us might do in such a place, but that’s as far as it goes.”
    “Then I’ll tell you.” He laid a hand on hers on the bar, placed the other on Shawn’s shoulder. “We’ve done the deal, as the three of us and Jude discussed, and we’ve shaken hands on it. He’s going back to New York, and the papers will be drawn up as soon as lawyers can manage it.”
    “Twenty-five percent?” Shawn asked. “
    “Twenty-five, and a say in approving the design for the theater. There are details yet, but between us, Magee, and the lawyers, we’ll iron them out.”
    “So we’ve