Unforgettable (17 page)

“Patrick, do you mind if I ask where you’re from?”

“New York,” he replied.

“No, I mean where were you born? You speak with no trace of an accent, especially not a New Yorker’s strong accent. It’s almost as if you try not to have one. Forgive me if I’m being too nosey. I was just wondering where you were raised,” she explained.

Patrick smiled. This was one intelligent lady. Most people wouldn’t have noticed such a small detail.

“You’re absolutely right, Brittany. I was born and raised in New York by my Italian mother and Irish father. I fought long and hard to lose all traces of the accents I grew up with because my Da and I both thought it would improve my chances at a career in business. I even took speech lessons to speak more clearly. That’s why I don’t have a strong Irish brogue, Italian chatter, or the missing r’s of a New Yorker’s accent.”

“I can’t believe this! Your father is Irish? You’re Irish?” Brittany exclaimed in astonishment.

“Aye, me Darlin,’ s’truth. I be Irish an proud o’ it, don’t ya know? An’ tis glad I am tha’ yer happy about it,” Patrick said, reverting to the thick brogue he’d grown up hearing from his father and Liam…the same brogue he’d spoken as a child.

“Oh, that’s just fantastic!” she squealed. “Ireland has always held a great fascination for me…the land, its people, their rich history, wild beauty and musical language, their magnificent castles and amazing legends…all of it. I’ve always dreamed of going there someday.

“And shame on you for dropping such a lovely accent!” she scolded playfully. “You have to tell me all about Ireland and your father.”

Patrick smiled at Brittany’s enthusiasm for the land of his ancestors, pleased to be a part of something she loved. He’d never seen so much pleasure written so plainly on someone’s face for so simple a reason. Her eyes sparkled and danced with delight when he spoke with an Irish brogue and her joy seemed boundless. She was soaring because of the man he was, not because of his position or what his bank statement read, and that thrilled him.

“My father grew up in County Antrim in Northern Ireland, a place filled with rolling green hills and herds of sheep grazing along the hillsides. He was the youngest of seven…four older brothers and two sisters, all of whom were married and had children of their own. Large families were common back then and his included a whole passel of aunts, uncles and cousins living nearby.

“Da always wanted to come to America and when he told his family he was coming here, they were all horrified. You’ve heard of the Irish temper? Just imagine that temper when the youngest man of an Irish clan tells his entire family he’s leaving the Homeland! But Da was as stubborn and determined as all Irishmen are once they’ve set their hearts and minds on something. After a while, the family finally decided to let him go. Realizing they couldn’t kill his dreams without destroying him as well, they all pooled their money and other resources and sent him to America with a small fortune. Irish families are notoriously close, loving and proud. It wouldn’t do to have one of their own go to America and fail. Da swore to them he would make good here and promised they would all be paid back ten-fold for helping him reach his dreams.

“Anyway, Da landed in New York harbor, fell in love with the Statue of Liberty, and stayed. He soon opened a small five-and-dime with a friend who came over with him. The business slowly grew more and more successful but, for ten long years, the only love in Da’s life was the store and the Statue of Liberty. That is, until he met my mother!” Patrick told her.

“How wonderful, Patrick! It must be a great comfort to have a huge, loving family to support your hopes and dreams and help you make them come true. Please tell me the rest,” Brittany pleaded.

“Well, after two years or so, Da asked Mam to marry him and she did. They tried for years to have children with no luck. In the meantime, the store continued to grow and expand. In those years, they had opened two new stores and changed the name. When the fifth store was opened, Mam surprised Da by telling him they were finally going to have a baby…me. It came as quite a shock to them because they’d already given up, Da being in his late fifties and Mam in her forties. It was a difficult delivery and Mam was never the same after that, always weak and tiring easily. She never should have had another baby but they were both Catholic and had been raised with the idea of a large family. However, four years later, they discovered Mam was going to have another baby. Even though the doctors advised them to abort for her health, there was never any question they were going to have the baby. A few months later, just after Mam turned forty-nine, she had a miscarriage and died from complications.”

“Oh, Patrick! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories. Please forgive me.” Brittany reached across the small table to touch his hand in sympathy for no one knew better than she how painful it could be to have someone remind you of a lost loved one. Even years later, it hurt.

Patrick smiled and kissed the back of her hand, their fingers remaining entwined as he continued with his story.

“It’s all right, Brittany. Of course, I regret not having memories of her, or having known her, but I was just a baby so I don’t remember her at all. My father and Uncle Liam saw I never wanted for anything; not love, attention, or anything else for that matter. I had a wonderful childhood. My father passed away a few years ago and I miss him terribly but Liam, my father’s friend and the business partner I mentioned before, has always been like a second father to me. I was lucky to have them both.”

“I’m sorry about your father, Patrick. What was his name?” Brittany asked.

“Well, his name was…the same as mine, Patrick Day,” Patrick replied hesitantly.

“Patrick Day? Wait, you don’t mean
the
Patrick Day was your father? Oh, I don’t believe it! I’m so stupid! You must think I’m imbecile not to have realized who you are,” Brittany gasped in astonishment.

This man owned the largest chain of department stores in the country, perhaps even the world, and he was sitting here talking to her! Like a dingbat, she hadn’t even put the names together, until now. She’d brought him here hoping to make a good impression on him but, in all honesty, this lovely place probably seemed like a fast food restaurant to him. It wasn’t the fact that he was wealthy that upset her, but the fact that she hadn’t put the two names together, or the story that he’d told, before now.

“Actually, I’d hoped you wouldn’t ask, or at least recognize the name, but I guess that was foolish. Da wanted to keep my name out of the public eye so I could lead as normal a life as possible, so no one has ever known me by the name of Day. When Da died, Liam took over everything to do with publicity or public appearances so, basically, no one knows what I look like, if they know I exist at all. Most people treat me differently once they find out who I am because they know I’m quite wealthy. This is the first time since college I’ve had anything to do with anyone not in business with my company. You…you treated me like everyone else in your world. To you, I was just an average guy who’d moved to town to open a small business and I liked that. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you, except it would be too much like lying,” Patrick said sadly.

He hated the fact she might turn out to be like everyone else and treat him as though he was something special and strange due to the size of his bank account. Money tended to blind people until they couldn’t see anything else. He was comfortable with the way things had been and wanted them to stay that way. Now that she knew, it was all going to change. At least, that’s what he thought.

“Don’t flatter yourself, buster! First of all, I’m not most people. Second, just because you and your father have made a lot of money doesn’t make you special, nor does it require special treatment. You’re a human being, aren’t you? That’s what I see here before me and that’s how you’ll be treated,” Brittany proclaimed.

She’d never been on his side of the fence, so to speak, but she’d been treated differently her whole life in many other ways. Although it was different, she imagined it felt the same and she didn’t like it any more than he did. If there was one thing she could give him to repay him for all the kindness he’d shown her, it was to give him the one thing he wanted most…to be treated like a normal man.

Patrick’s face first registered amazement, appreciation, and finally pleasure. True to her word, from that moment on, she treated him no differently than she had before.

As the night wore on, Patrick thoroughly relaxed into their conversation and the companionship of this beautiful lady. He found himself even more captivated by everything about her.

“You thought I was an angel?” he teased, once more taking her hand.

“Well, if you deserve any special treatment, it’s because you
are
an angel…because you saved my life and because you’re Irish but, most of all, because you are, and always will be, my friend,” Brittany said looking into his eyes.

For the longest time, they gazed wordlessly into each other’s eyes. Finally, afraid Patrick would read too much into hers, Brittany glanced away and broke the silence.

“I still can’t believe I didn’t make the connection before now. I love everything about Ireland and your name is as Irish as shamrocks. On top of all that, I spend at least three days a week shopping for supplies in your department store.”

“Shopping for supplies? What kind of supplies?” Patrick asked.

“Susan and I own a small crafts and gift shop in town. We make all kinds of different things and buy most of our supplies from your store. We also rent out booth space to other locals who sell their crafts. It’s doing well now, but it was rough going at first. The whole time I was making the initial arrangements and deciding what I wanted to do with the building I’d rented, everyone had their own suggestions and advice. I was stubborn, though…set on doing it my way, no matter what. That way, if it failed, I had no one to blame but myself.” Brittany had been determined not to fail.

“What’s the name of your shop?” Patrick asked, wanting to hear more…surprised to feel so proud of her accomplishment.

“Well, when I opened the shop, I wasn’t sure what to name it. At the time, Susan kept calling it ‘Breezy’s Way,’ for lack of anything better. It’s kind of based on the nickname my father gave me. Apparently, I was quite hyper as a child…he swore he could feel the breeze every time I ran past him, so he called me ‘Breezy.’ We finally shortened it to ‘The Breezeway’ and, before I knew it, the sign was made. It was only supposed to be temporary but, just like my nickname, it sort of stuck,” she explained.

“It sounds fitting for a craft shop. Will you show it to me someday?”

“Of course; whenever you want. Susan said you only recently moved to town. Are you going to build a new store nearby?” Brittany asked hopefully. She had to drive nearly forty miles to get to the nearest Day’s department store, so it would save her a lot of time and money if there was one closer to town.

“I’m building our biggest store ever right here in town, which will include a local warehouse and distribution center,” Patrick replied, going on to explain the location and building plans.

Over dinner, they continued talking about their individual businesses and ideas. They also discussed their favorite movies, books, plays and music, discovering they had a lot in common, despite their different lives.

“Would you like to dance, Breezy?” he asked after they’d finished eating. He recognized the singer of the Song as Gary Taylor but the song, “Flirting With An Angel” he had never heard before.

She smiled as Patrick took her hand and led her to the dance floor. However, the moment he turned to take her in his arms, he almost regretted such an impulsive move on his part. She was so soft and delicate. In that dress, she looked lovely and ethereal. The scent of her perfume drifted up to wrap around him like a lover’s embrace just as the seductive music began. Fearing his physical reaction to her nearness could embarrass them both, he quickly took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Once his unruly body was once more under his iron control, Patrick couldn’t resist the urge to show off a little…to tease her.

He began to move in time with the sultry music as he pulled Brittany closer against him. He barely managed to hide his wicked smirk when Brittany blushed a bright red in response. Much to his surprise, she matched his moves, although he suspected she’d probably never danced this way before. Her reactions to him were so honest and innocent. Had he been teasing any of the women he knew back home, they would have been pressed up against him by now, allowing their hands to roam all over him, letting him know they were ready and willing to accommodate his every wish. Not Brittany. She followed his lead and matched his moves but she blushed the entire time and couldn’t look him in the eyes. Patrick found her modesty not only refreshing, but incredibly sexy and alluring as well. He couldn’t help smiling against Brittany’s hair. Yes, it was wrong to tease her and someone should give him a good talking to, but no one would. She had the loveliest smile and her voice was as soft as a cloud. He was intrigued by everything she said. He’d been hanging on her every word and, God knew, she’d never left his mind. Susan had said she had no ulterior motives for wanting to meet him, other than to say thank you. Jesus! What was the name of this song? It was so like Brittany, it was uncanny.

Patrick found his body reacting to her movements, her body brushing against his, her scent, her blushing face, her silky hair, and her alabaster skin. He’d set out to tease her just a little, but it was starting to backfire on him in spades.
Patrick was finding it more difficult to breathe. He fought the urge to loosen his tie and clear his throat.
S
he was so sweet and delicate, not at all like the women he went for in New York. Why did this one, innocent, little dance make his body react like he’d just sat through a strip tease?

Okay, I got it; I’m being punished for ‘Flirting with an Angel.’ Thanks!
In his mind, he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. He felt like he was in a dream. His heart hadn’t stopped beating at all; in fact, it was pounding in his chest so loud, he was surprised Brittany didn’t hear it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He didn’t want to anyway. She fit against him like a hand in a glove. He could only imagine how it would feel to fit inside of her.