Meternity. Meghann Foye

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Six

      McGann’s, a prototypical Irish pub in Hell’s Kitchen, sits just far enough away from both Ryan’s office in Times Square and mine. It’s an easy choice and I love that Ryan picked a casual Irish pub over a fancy lounge-type place, which can often set a too-formal tone. I hope he’s there before I am so I won’t have to sit at the pub’s bar alone, baby bump in my purse.

      All my worries go away when I see him, already perched on a bar stool, with a worn paperback and a shot of Jameson in front of him. The glowing fire in the middle of the room relieves the chill in my bones from the rain outside. Paintings, European football memorabilia and old-fashioned Guinness ads line the cream walls. Tiffany lamp sconces give the whole bar a glow. I’ve forgotten how much I like this place.

      “Buckley!” he says enthusiastically as he gets up.

      “Hey there, Mr. Murphy,” I say, trying to cover up my nerves with as much confidence as I can muster. He leans in to kiss my cheek while I reach out to shake his hand. We laugh at the mix-up and I try to babble on through it. “Starting strong, I see,” I tell him, nodding at the Jameson. His warm smile makes me a little less anxious.

      “Oh, that’s not for me. That’s for you,” he says drily, dropping the amber drink in front of me on the bar. “I figured I’d try to get you all liquored up so I can steal Paddy Cakes’ fall lineup,” he says, taking my coat and finding a spot for it under the bar.

      He pulls out the bar stool from beneath the rough-hewn counter, and I try to hop onto it with as much ladylike grace as one can have in big rubber boots and a dress. I take a sip of the whiskey, while I face toward the bar and start to fiddle with the bar menu, trying not to let on that I’m worrying if someone I know will stop by and catch me here, drinking.

      “So, I don’t know if you caught our ‘Mega-Multiples’ show the other night, but people have been saying it’s Emmy worthy,” says Ryan, dusting his shoulders off for effect.

      “Yeah,” I respond. “Not too bad. Pretty good for a novice. You, you know, didn’t catch all the nuances of our article. How long have you been at the network again?”

      “You’re right,” he says finally, returning the joke. “It didn’t do Paddy Cakes’ Pulitzer-winning prose justice.”

      I roll my eyes—we both know that’s not the case.

      “So, I bet you’re going to be taking over Alix’s job in a year’s time,” he says, mocking my seriousness a bit.

      “Probably,” I say with false smugness. “And what about you—this Emmy should seal your career trajectory, too. Have you picked out your corner office yet?”

      Ryan takes a big sip of his whiskey. “Already got one,” he says, flashing a grin.

      “Corner office?”

      “Emmy.” He looks down offering only a bashful, yet sly look. Out of the corner of my eye, Seamus, barman with white hair and a bit of a belly beneath his black vest, is wiping down the bar and gives a nod.

      Holding back how impressed I am, I reply, “Good. Because I only associate with smart, successful people.”

      “Bet you do,” he teases.

      “So I bet you must love all the parenting stuff you’re doing,” I say sarcastically, filled with weariness from the past week. “If someone says the words baby, bun, bump or bundle, I think I’m going to shoot myself.”

      Ryan seems to get my meaning, yet he clears his throat. “Well, it’s not all bad—some of the moms are smokin’ hot,” he says with a cheeky smile. “Anyway, I’m done with the parenting stuff for the next month or so. I’m probably going to be going on the 100-pound-tumor man shoot in the Amazon pretty soon.”

      “Ah, СКАЧАТЬ