Rory: Hope City, Book 7 by Maryann Jordan (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

Another call came through. “Gotta go, sweetheart. Be careful and I’ll see you tonight.” With quick vows of love, he disconnected, answering the next call. “Kyle, what’s up?”

“Wanted to let you know that a man has been arrested for attempting to roofie a woman at a hotel bar near the harbor.”

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me! You got him?”

“Not me, not my case. And we don’t know if it’s the one from the Celtic Cock. I heard the man lawyered up as soon as he was pulled in. I know the investigating detective has talked to Torin—”

“Shit, I should warn Sandy!”

“Sandy said she never saw the man’s face, only the back of him. I don’t know that the detective is going to talk to her again, but I wanted to give you a call just in case.”

“I appreciate it, bro. I’ll talk to her.” He heaved a sigh but didn’t know if it was one of frustration or relief. Maybe both.

“I figured you’d rather do that than have her caught off-guard by getting a call from a detective.”

Thanking Kyle, he disconnected and scrubbed his hand over his face. With the opening of the Tower looming, he hated to mar her excitement.

He stopped by the Celtic Cock after his shift, glad to see it wasn’t crowded and Torin was behind the bar. Walking over, he leaned his forearms on the polished wood, gaining Torin’s attention.

“You look like a man who has something on his mind besides ordering a drink.”

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Man, as long as you’ve been running this bar, you can probably take one look at a person and know what’s on their mind.” Deciding to get right to it, he said, “Kyle called to let me know they picked up someone. I know you’ve been talked to, but I haven’t told Sandy yet. I wanted to do it in person, and the detective doesn’t think she can help identify the man who was here.”

Torin’s jaw was tight, a muscle twitching as he grimaced. “If I can get my hands on that fucker, he wouldn’t have any part of his anatomy left to even think about assaulting a woman.”

“I hear you. Feel the same. Listen, I told you this before, but it bears repeating. What happened wasn’t on you.”

The two men were silent for a moment before Torin grabbed a dish towel off his shoulder and swiped at a nonexistent spot on the polished bar. “My great-great-grandparents came over from Ireland in the 1800s. Landed in Hope City and never went anywhere else. Worked on the docks and anywhere else they could make a living. My great-grandfather sold bootleg whiskey during prohibition.” Torin grinned, shaking his head. “Damn, I would’ve loved to have seen the old man stay one step ahead of the law.”

Laughing, Rory said, “That’s fuckin’ hilarious. I had no idea.”

“My grandfather opened this place right after he got back from fighting in Europe during World War II. Soldiers and sailors were pouring back into the city, the factories and docks were booming, bars and pubs were popping up everywhere. There was always a lot of Irish in the police and fire departments, and they loved coming to this place. He put his heart and soul into the Celtic Cock, handing it over to my dad who, in turn, handed the reins to me and Maeve. Other than a few fights that are easily broken up, we’ve never had something like that happen here. At least not that we knew of.” He held Rory’s gaze, his jaw tight again. “Thank God for Sandy recognizing what happened to that woman.”

Rory’s gut clenched at the secret knowledge of why Sandy was so quick to understand but simply nodded instead. Sliding off the barstool, he rapped his knuckles on the wood before saying goodbye.

25

It was time. Finally. The night of the Partridge Tower grand opening gala. A time for Carmichael Designs to show off their work as well as attract other clients. Sandy walked across the lobby of Partridge Tower, her stiletto heels clicking on the tile floor that had been buffed to a brilliant shine. She caught her reflection in the wall of mirrors behind the reception desk, pleased with her outfit. The jewel-tone blue dress was fitted through the bodice, the V-neck flattering but high enough to show no cleavage. A satin ribbon in the same color was belted around her waist. And the multilayered silk skirt flowed to just above her knees. Elegant and yet professional. Her long hair was pulled into a low bun with wavy tendrils loose around her face. Small diamond studs graced her ears and her grandmother’s thin diamond bracelet encircled her wrist.

Having arrived early, she walked through the lobby and noted the caterers setting up their tables and servers being prepped. She waved at the interior designer who worked on the condos and nodded toward Heather who was commandeering the new reception staff that she had trained.

Hearing more steps behind her, she turned and smiled as Todd and Barbara walked into the lobby. Todd, resplendent in his tux, had his elbow crooked with Barbara’s hand resting lightly on his arm. Her modest black dress was perfect for the image Sandy wanted her company to present.

“Sandy, you’re gorgeous!” Barbara gushed. “I hate that Rory isn’t here with you.”

She shrugged, sliding the chain strap of her evening bag over her shoulder. “I know, but I’m going to be all over the place, and I hated for him to be here alone, not knowing anyone. He’s working a shift tonight anyway, so he would’ve had to have made shift-switch arrangements.”

“What about you?” Todd asked Barbara.

She wrinkled her nose while shaking her head. “I haven’t had time for a boyfriend!”

“Well, I always make time for my boyfriend,” Todd exclaimed before pursing his lips. “But I also told him to stay home since I was going to be working tonight.”

“How’d he take that?” Sandy asked.

He