The Gallaghers of Ardmore Trilogy

with them or with you, I want you to see and hear for yourself. I want an objective opinion.”
    “And when hasn’t your own been objective?”
    “There’s something about the Gallaghers,” Trevor said again. “Something about Ardmore, the area.” Unconsciously, he fingered the silver disk resting under his shirt. “Maybe it’s the goddamn air, I don’t know. I want you to come over. I want your take on it.”
    Nigel lifted his hands, let them fall. “You’re the boss. I suppose I should see what there is about this place that’s caused you to sink so much time, money, and effort into your theater brainstorm.”
    “It wasn’t a brainstorm. It’s a very solid business concept. Don’t snort,” Trevor warned, anticipating him.
    “I never snort. I do occasionally guffaw, but I’ll resist.”
    “Good. I have a new piece from Shawn Gallagher.” Trevor walked over, retrieved the sheet music from his briefcase. “Take a look.”
    Nigel only smiled. “Rather hear it,” he said and gestured to the piano across the room.
    “All right, but he’s orchestrated it for guitar, violin, and flute.”
    “I’ll get the idea.” Nigel closed his eyes as Trevor walked to the piano. He himself couldn’t play a note, but he had an uncanny sense of music nonetheless.
    And his antenna began to quiver as Trevor played the opening bars.
    Quick, Nigel thought, lively, subtly sexy, and fun. Yes, Trevor was right, as always. They had a gold mine in Shawn Gallagher. And it wouldn’t hurt to meet the man face-to-face, he supposed, even if it did mean traveling to Ireland. God help him.
    He listened, nodding to himself, then grinning when Trevor sang the lyrics. His friend had a strong voice, and still an easy one. But the words needed a female. Nigel recognized it at once.
    I’ll have your hand
    I’ll have your heart
    I’ll have them all together.
    For if you think I’ll settle for part,
    Prepare for stormy weather.
     
     
    Yes, a woman’s song, confident, even arrogant and sexy.
    He opened his eyes again, and grinned as Trevor played it out. He wasn’t an easy sell, but his foot was tapping before the song was done.
    “The man’s a fucking genius,” Nigel declared. “ Simple, straightforward lyrics in a tangle of complicated notes. Not everyone can sing that one and punch it.”
    “No, but I have someone in mind who can. Make arrangements for Ardmore, Nigel.”
    Nigel took a pull on the designer water that was never beyond arm’s reach. “If I must, I must. Now, is that the bulk of the business on our slate this afternoon?”
    “The bulk, yes. Why?”
    “Because I’d like to know, as an old and trusted friend, just what’s crawling around under your skin. You’re nervy, Trev, and it’s not usual for you.”
    He didn’t like that it showed, was going to make damn sure it didn’t before he saw Darcy again. “There’s a woman.”
    “Son, there’s always a woman.”
    “Not like this one. I brought her with me.”
    “Oh, did you now? That’s a new one.” Each word was stretched long and full of meaning. “And when do I get to have a look at her?”
    Trevor sat again, ordered himself to relax. “Come to Ardmore,” he said and directed the conversation back to business.

 
     
     
     
ELEVEN
     
     
    S HE WASN’T QUITE sure how to play it, and it did seem like being onstage. Should she be sitting in the splendor of the parlor having tea or a cocktail when Trevor returned? Or would it be more casual and sophisticated if she were up in the sitting room, passing the time with a book?
    Perhaps she should take a walk and not be there at all.
    In the end, not being sure of the lines or motivations of the character she appeared to be playing, Darcy prepared to dress for the evening. She took her time about it, and that was a luxury itself. Having buckets of time to loll in the bath, to make use of the lovely scented creams that were set about in antique bottles.
    Better to be ready, she decided as she smoothed the silky lotion on her legs, and avoid any awkwardness of just how and where the two of them were going to dress for dinner. Sex, as she saw it, was the final act in today’s play, and she had to admit she was both eager for and nervous about the performance.
    Yes, much wiser to meet him in the sophisticated mode, wearing the little black dress. She would indeed go down, have a cocktail, so when he came in she would be sitting in that almost terrifyingly formal parlor, all sort of