Heart Of The Sea

CHAPTER Eight

The home team always had the edge. Trevor knew it going in, but didn't see a way around it. Not only was the house Gallagher turf, but the village, the county, the whole damn country was theirs. Unless he found a way to shift the meeting to New York, he would just have to play it as underdog.

Added to that, they outnumbered him. It couldn't be helped.

Not that he minded working a deal when the odds were against him. The challenge of it only made the satisfaction of success sweeter.

He'd already worked out his approach. The questions, the doubts, the general unease of what he supposed would be termed his paranormal experiences would just have to wait until after business hours.

The minute he knocked on the door of the Gallagher house, he was representing Magee Enterprises. It was a responsibility, and a privilege, that he took very seriously.

Darcy opened the door, a sassy smile on her face, her head tilted at the perfect angle to display both arrogance and humor.

Jesus, he'd like to take her in one quick gulp and be done with it. Instead he greeted her with an easy grin. "Afternoon, Miss Gallagher."

"And a good day to you, Mr. Magee." Deliberately provocative, she stepped toward him rather than back. "Don't you want to kiss me?"

He wanted to swallow her whole. "Later."

She gave her head a little toss that sent her clouds of dark hair tumbling back. "I might not be in the mood later."

"You will be, if I kiss you."

She shrugged, though she was faintly irritated, then moved back to let him in. "I like confidence in a man. Mostly. The rest of us are in the kitchen, awaiting your presence. Is this to do with your theater?"

"Partly."

Irritation clicked up another level, but she spoke coolly as she led him toward the rear of the house. "And a mysterious man as well. Now I'm in love for certain."

"How many times would this make?"

"Oh, I stopped counting years ago. I've such a fickle heart. How many is that for you?"

"Still batting zero here."

"That's a pity. Here's himself come to call," Darcy announced over what seemed to Trevor to be a heated conversation around the table.

"If I'm interrupting-"

"Not at all." Aidan rose and waved a hand toward Brenna and Shawn, who sat scowling at each other. "If these two don't snap at each other six times a week, we're worried enough to ring up the doctor."

"You said you'd leave the details of the house to me," Brenna reminded her husband.

"You're talking about the materials and colors of the kitchen counters and such. Who does the bloody cooking?"

"The blue laminate's pretty and sensible."

"The granite's subtle and strong. It'll last two lifetimes."

"Well, we've only this one to concern us at present, don't we? Trevor-"

Even as she turned to him, Trevor held up a hand. "No, absolutely no. Don't even think of asking me for an opinion. I have no opinion when it comes to arguments between husband and wife."

"'Tisn't an argument." Sulking, Brenna sat back, folded her arms. "But a discussion. I can have the laminate done in a wink. Do you know how long it'll take to do the damn business in granite?"

"When it's right you wait." Shawn leaned over, kissed her softly. "And then you treasure."

"You think you'll get around me that way?"

"I do, yes."

She sucked in a breath, then let it out on a huff. "Bastard," she said, with great affection.

"Well, now that we've settled that vital and thorny matter-" Aidan gestured Trevor to a chair. "Can we get you a beer, then, or some tea?"

Their turf, Trevor reminded himself as he sat. "A beer'd be great, thanks." He glanced at Jude. "How are you doing?"

"Good." She didn't think he'd want her to mention she felt as if she had a semi parked on her bladder. "Aidan said you didn't stop in the pub for lunch today. Why don't I fix you a sandwich?"

"I'm fine." He reached over, laid his hand on hers. "Sit. I appreciate you all taking the time to meet with me on such short notice."

"It's not a problem." Aidan put the beer in front of Trevor, then sat. Head of the table. Advantage, Gallagher. And they all knew it. "Not a problem at all. Brenna tells us the building's going up right on schedule, and I have to say that's a bit of a surprise in these parts."

"I have a good foreman." He toasted Brenna, then sipped. "I think we'll be ready by next May."

"So long?" Darcy looked both shocked and horrified. "And will that noise be part of the whole for a year?"

"What noise?" he replied nonchalantly. When she sputtered, he simply rolled over her. "I hope to scatter in a few performances, primarily for the locals, by next spring. Warm things up. But I'm aiming for the third week in June for the grand opening."

"Midsummer," Darcy commented.

"The middle of summer is July."

"Don't you know your pagan calendar? Midsummer's June twenty-second, and a fine choice. A night for celebrating. Jude had her first ceili on that night last year, and it turned out well, didn't it, darling?"

"Eventually. Why the month delay?" Jude asked him.

"Basically to cover our asses, to build anticipation, to book acts, generate press. My plan is to have a small, intimate opening in May. Exclusive. Invited guests, which would include the village, family, and a select number of VIP's."

"That's very clever," Darcy murmured. "It's part of my job. It'll generate interest, and publicity, in the official June opening. And give us time to tweak any details that need tweaking."

"Like a dress rehearsal."

He nodded at Darcy. "Exactly. I'd like your help with the guest list for the area."

"That's as easily done as said," Aidan told him. "And I'd like you to perform. The three of you." Aidan reached for his own beer. "In the pub."

"Onstage," Trevor corrected. "The main stage."

"In the theater?" Aidan set his beer down again without drinking. "Why?"

"Because I've heard you, and you're perfect."

"Well, now, Trev, that's flattering to be sure." Thoughtfully, Shawn reached for one of the tea biscuits Jude had set out. "But all you've heard from us is a bit of fun. It's not as if we're a professional act or anything of that nature. The kind you're looking to have in your theater."

"You're exactly what I'm looking for." His gaze skimmed to Darcy, lingered a moment, then moved on. She'd yet to say a word. "Showcasing local talent is part of what this project is about. Mixing that, together with new and established acts. I can't think of anything more appropriate than having the Gallaghers perform, and perform a selection of Shawn Gallagher's music, at the first showing."

"Mine." Shawn went very pale. "At such a time? I don't mean to tell you your business, Trev, but that's surely a mistake."

"It's not." Brenna rapped a fist on his shoulder. "It's brilliant. It's perfect. But you've only bought three of his tunes so far, Trev."

Trevor angled his head. "He's only shown me three so far."

"There." Brenna socked Shawn again, with more enthusiasm. "You moron. He's dozens more. If you come by the house you can have a look. He can play them for you. He's got his piano crammed in what there is of our front room already. And his fiddle and-"

"Quiet," Shawn muttered.

"Don't tell me to be quiet when-"

"Quiet." This time the order was sharp, and Brenna seethed, but subsided. "I have to think about it." Flustered, he dragged a hand through his hair. "It's a lot to think about." At his wife's annoyed hiss he simply looked at her. "Brenna."

She quieted. His look was a plea for patience and understanding. How could she refuse? "I'll just say this. You've so much to give, Shawn, and it shouldn't worry you. But the fact that it does is likely part of why you're brilliant in the first place. Make a bargain with me."

He made a restless movement with his shoulders. "What bargain?"

"Let me pick the next, just one, to show Trev. I had fine luck with the first, didn't I?"

"You did. That you did. All right, then. Brenna'll bring you a song tomorrow so you can see what you think of it."

"I'll look forward to it." Trevor hesitated. The trouble was, he realized, he liked these people. "I wish to God you'd get an agent."

"Isn't she bad enough?" Shawn countered, jerking a thumb at Brenna. "Hounds me day and night as it is, and read every word in the contract you sent twice over. My eyes would have bled. We'll just go on as we are."

"It keeps my end of it less complicated." Trevor set the subject aside and turned back to Aidan. Businessman now to businessman. "The three of you are Gallagher's, and Gallagher's is Ardmore. The theater's going to be part of that, and because of it will benefit all of us here. The two are linked, for the very practical reason that your business is already established, already considered a center for music. Bringing the three of you forward as the first act to perform will get us a lot of press. Press means tickets, and tickets mean profit. For Gallagher's and for the theater."

"I follow that well enough. But that we are Gallagher's is another point. Running the pub is what we do."

"And how much will it add to Gallagher's reputation when the three of you perform, and record, Shawn's music?"

"Record?"

"For Celtic Records. We'll have the CD's available at the theater," Trevor went on smoothly. "And we have a reputation of our own-artists, packaging, promotion, distribution. You can't manufacture this kind of hook. The three of you were born into it."

"But we're not performers, we're publicans."

"You're wrong. You're natural performers. I understand the pub's your priority. I'm counting on that. But this could be, would be, a very interesting, profitable, and satisfying sideline."

"Why does it matter to you?"

It was the first question Darcy had asked, and Trevor shifted his attention to her. "Because the theater matters to me, and I never settle for less than the best. It means profit," he added. "Isn't that the bottom line?"

Aidan said nothing for a moment, then nodded. "You'll appreciate that this is a bit of a surprise to us all, and is something we need to think over and discuss. The five of us have to be agreed, one way or another, on the matter. The overall picture, so to speak, before we can even consider discussing details. Of which I can only imagine there are many."

"Understood." Knowing it was time to step back and let the idea percolate, Trevor got to his feet. "If you have any questions you know where to find me. Brenna, take your time coming back. I'm going to the site."

"Thanks. I'll be right along."

Darcy tapped a finger on Aidan's arm to keep him in place. "I'll walk you out," she said to Trevor.

There were so many thoughts whirling through her mind. She knew it was important, vital, to snatch the most significant of them and get a firm hold. So she kept all those thoughts to herself until they walked outside again.

"Sure and it's quite the surprise you've brought us today, Trevor."

"So I see, but I wonder why it's such a surprise. You've got ears and brains. You've heard how the three of you are together."

"Maybe it's that I've already heard it." She glanced back, knowing her family was already discussing the matter. Still, she wanted her own thoughts and feelings settled before she added them to the mix. "You're not the impulsive sort, not with business."

"No."

"So this isn't something that just popped wild into your head."

"I've been playing the angles since the first time I heard you sing. You've got a voice that goes straight to the gut, right after it's broken the heart. It's quite a talent."

"Hmm." She strolled by, down the narrow path through Jude's garden. "And this notion you've come to us with today, you're thinking it'll enhance our mutual concerns."

"Not think, Darcy. I know. It's my business to know."

She turned her head, studied him over her shoulder. "Aye, I suppose so. And how much would you be paying for this enhancement?"

Now he smiled. Trust her to get right down to the sharpest point in the quill. "It's negotiable."

"And what would be the floor of that negotiation?"

"Five thousand for the performance. The recording rights are a separate issue."

Her eyebrows arched. One evening singing, and more than she'd earn waitressing for weeks in the pub. "Pounds or dollars?"

He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. "Pounds."

She made a little humming sound again. "Well, if we decide we're interested, Aidan will haggle with you over that pitiful amount, to be sure."

"I'm looking forward to it. Aidan's the businessman." Keeping his eyes on hers, Trevor moved to her. "Shawn's the artist."

"And what would I be?"

"The ambition. Put the three parts together, and you've got a hell of a team."

"As I said before, you're a clever man." She looked away from him and out to sea, where the waves rolled in slow and smooth. "I've ambitions, right enough. And I'll be honest with you here, Trevor, and tell you this particular idea has never occurred to me. The singing for anything but my own enjoyment."

He surprised her by trailing a finger down the line of her throat. "What you've got in there can make you rich. Famous. I can help that happen."

"That's quite an offer, and appeals to my basest of egos and desires." She walked on a little farther, until she stood near the street of the village where she'd lived all her life. "How rich?"

His laugh was easy and full of pure pleasure. "I like you."

"I'm growing fonder of you by the minute. I've a yen to be rich, and I'm not ashamed to say so."

He jerked his head toward the house. "Talk them into it."

"No, that I won't. I'll put in my thoughts, and I'll shout if I need to be heard, and exchange the usual insults when they're warranted, but I won't pressure them to do anything that doesn't sit comfortably. It'll come from all of us, or not at all. It's the Gallagher way."

"Does it sit comfortably with you?"

"I haven't decided, but I'm enjoying the trying of it on, so to speak. I have to get back in there, as the discussion's hot and heavy by this time. But-"

"What?"

"I wanted to ask, as you're in the way of being an expert on such things." She laid a hand on his arm, looked into his eyes. She wanted to see her answer there before she heard it. "Shawn. He's brilliant, isn't he?"

"Yes."

It was a simple answer, almost casually given. And perfect. "I knew it." Tears swam into her eyes, shimmered beautifully against the blue. "I have to get over this before I go back in or his head'll swell up so I won't be able to connect with his brain next time I cosh him. I'm so proud of him." A tear spilled over, made her sniffle. "Damn it."

Caught off guard, Trevor stared at her, then dug in his back pocket for his bandanna. "Here."

"Is it clean?"

"Christ, you're a maze, Darcy. Here." He dabbed at her cheeks himself, then handed the cloth to her. "You'd do it for him, wouldn't you?"

She blew her nose. "What?"

"The performance, the recording. You'd do it for Shawn even if you hated the idea."

"It's not going to hurt me any, is it?"

"Stop it." He took her arms, his eyes narrowed. "It wouldn't matter what it cost you, you'd do it for him."

"He's my brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him." She let out a steadying breath, eased back, then handed him the bandanna. "But damned if I'll do it for free."

When she turned to walk away, he fought a little war with himself. Pride against need. And need won. "Get a night off. Damn it, Darcy, get a night off."

The thrill of the rough demand shivered straight up the center of her body. But the look she shot over her shoulder was designed to taunt. "We'll see."

The minute she was inside, she leaned back against the front door, shut her eyes. Weak, something about the man left her weak. And it was an odd sensation when tangled with the burst of energy that his offer and his promises had spurting through her.

Her knees wanted to shake, her feet wanted to dance.

And despite it all, she hadn't a clue what it was she wanted in her heart.

She opened her eyes, nearly smiled. From the raised voices coming from the kitchen it was clear that her family hadn't a clue either.

She started back, then stopped in the parlor doorway and looked at the old piano. Music had been as much a part of her life as the pub. For always. But the music had always been for the fun, for the pleasure of it, never for money. One of her earliest memories was of that piano, of sitting on her mother's lap there on that same stool while the music and the laughter ran all around.

She had a good strong voice. She wasn't a bubble-head-she knew her voice was fine enough. But to pin her hopes on it, and on Trevor Magee's making something of it, that was a different matter entirely.

Wiser, she decided, to consider taking that first step without any real expectations. That way there couldn't be any real disappointments.

She headed back in time to hear Brenna's furious disgust.

"A potato's got more sense than you, Shawn. The man's giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, and you're worrying it to pieces."

"It's my lifetime, isn't it?"

"I think this gives me some say in your lifetime." She held up the chain that held her rings.

"It's my music, and even you can't hammer it out of me."

"You've agreed to show him another tune," Aidan put in, playing peacemaker. "Let's see where it goes once you have. As for the other, we have to look at all the angles of it." He looked up, gestured to Darcy. "And we haven't heard what Darcy thinks about it."

"If it'll put her in a spotlight and cash in her pocket," Shawn said, "we already know what she thinks."

Darcy merely smiled sourly. "As I'm not a pea-brained idiot like some at this table, I've no objection to either of those things. But-" She trailed off until Shawn narrowed his eyes. "I'm also thinking that a man the likes of Magee isn't after thinking in one-shot sorts of deals, or in small numbers. I'm not sure any of us are prepared for what he really has in his mind."

"He wants Shawn's music, and he wants the three of you to sing it." Brenna threw up her hands. "It makes good, strong sense to me."

"There are three of us." Aidan spoke quietly, looking from face to face. "Each of us has different needs. Jude, the baby, the pub, this house. They're my center. I won't change that. Shawn has the new home and new life he's building with Brenna, the pub as well, and his music. But the music is made in his own time and his own way. Do I have the right of that?"

"You do, yes."

"And Darcy, I'm thinking that what was under the idea we've heard today, what was between the lines, which I caught as you did, might be just the sort of thing you need."

"I haven't decided. Music has always been a personal thing to us, something shared with family and friends. I understand what Brenna's saying, as the simple part of the notion-just the singing that night to cement the link between the pub and the theater does make good, strong sense. And it's not as if the three of us screech like cats at the moon and would embarrass the family name by doing it. But he's a canny individual is Trevor Magee. So we'll have to be cannier, and see that whatever we do or don't is precisely what we intend."

Aidan nodded, then turned to his wife. "You've said nothing, Jude Frances. Don't you have thoughts on the subject?"

"Several." Now that the shouting was over, she judged everyone ready to hear them. She folded her hands on her belly. "First, the practicalities. I don't know anything about publicity or entertainment, but it seems to me the scenario Trevor outlined is simple and smart and would be effective. That benefits all of us."

"That's true," Aidan agreed. "But if we take our music into the theater, what does that leave us in the pub?"

"The informality. A bigger impact because you have performed onstage, because you've recorded. And then anyone coming in for a pint might catch you in the mood to do a song while you're at the bar or coming out of the kitchen. The tourists, in particular, will love it."

"Well, now, that's bloody brilliant," Darcy murmured.

"Not really. It's just that I've sat in the pub, and I've watched and I know how lovely it is. So has Trevor. He's very much aware of how one will affect the other. Next-" She took a deep breath. "Individually. Aidan, it won't change your center. Nothing could. It isn't a matter of either/or. Whatever you decide will be right, because you have that center and it matters most to you."

He picked up her hand, kissed it. "Isn't she wonderful? Have you ever seen the like of her?"

Jude merely kept her hand in his and laid them both over their baby. "Shawn. You have a beautiful talent. The more Brenna loves you, and admires that, the more impatient she is with you for hesitating to share it."

"Then she must love me a hell of a lot."

"Which is my cross to bear." Brenna bit into a biscuit and glared at him.

"I would think," Jude continued, "having your family perform and record your music would be the perfect solution. You trust them, and they understand you. Won't it be easier for you to take that step when you have that bond?"

"It shouldn't be because of me."

"Oh, just answer the question," Darcy snapped. "You fish-faced jackass."

"Of course it'd be easier, but-"

"Now shut up." Darcy nodded smugly. "And let Jude finish. Because I think she's about to come to me, and I love the attention."

"You don't shrink from attention." Jude picked up her tea to sip. She couldn't sit much longer in one spot. Her back was starting to ache. "Performing would be second nature to you. You'd enjoy the stage, the lights, the applause."

Shawn snorted. "She'll lap it up like cream. Vanity is our Darcy's middle name."

"Can I help it if all the good looks in the family waited for me?"

"I don't know, as I haven't seen your face without a layer of paint since you were thirteen."

"The pity of it is I have to see yours every time I turn around."

"Since looking at each other is the next thing to looking in a mirror, you could find something else to argue over." Aidan held up a finger before either of his siblings could snipe. "Let Jude finish."

"I nearly am." Amazing, she thought, how quickly she'd become used to the rhythm of this family. "I imagine you'd enjoy being onstage, playing to the audience. But, if the idea of it terrified you, if you hated the very thought of it, you'd do it anyway. You'd do anything for these two."

Though the statement was perilously close to the end of her conversation with Trevor, Darcy let out an amused snort. "I do to please myself."

"In a great many things," Jude agreed. "This you'd do for Aidan, and Aidan's the pub. You'd do it for Shawn, and Shawn's the music. Last of all you'd do it for yourself. For the fun."

"The fun's a factor, isn't it?" Darcy rose, started to move casually to the stove, but Aidan caught her hand as she went by.

He tugged, she resisted. He tugged again. With a little sigh, she went into his lap. "Tell me what you want, Darcy darling."

"A chance, I suppose."

He nodded, met Shawn's eyes across the table. "Let's give it a day or two to simmer. Then I'll talk to Magee again and see just what's up his sleeve."