Free Night Of The Blackbird by Heather Graham Page B

events.
    He was amazing.
    She smiled at him across the bar at one point, hoping that he could sense what she was thinking.
    At last it came time for Kelly’s Pub to close. The band stopped, and the last of the customers, the old-timers, departed. She was wiping down the bar when she felt Danny behind her. This time she knew he was there before he spoke. “You’ve not introduced me to the new love of your life, Moira,” he murmured.
    â€œOh, really? Imagine that—and when I’ve seen so much of you, too.”
    â€œI’ve been playing hard, all for the good of the cause,” he said softly.
    â€œDon’t even use the word ‘cause’ near me, Daniel O’Hara,” she said, voice lowered.
    â€œMoira, it’s just an innocent word,” he said, amused.
    Michael was walking toward her, a bulwark against this thorn in her side.
    â€œHere he comes. So you get to meet him,” she said softly. “There you are, Michael,” she said in a normal tone, dropping her bar rag and walking toward Michael to slip an arm around him. He hugged her back. She gave him an adoring gaze, then pretended to realize that, oh, yes, Danny, an old friend, was standing there. “Dan O’Hara, Michael McLean. Michael’s working with us as an associate producer and locations manager,” Moira said.
    Michael, smiling, stretched out his right hand to shake Danny’s. His left arm remained around Moira’s shoulder. “I hope I’m a lot more than that,” he said ruefully. “Dan O’Hara, it’s nice to meet you. I understand you’re an old family friend.”
    â€œOh, much more than that,” Danny said lightly. “A pleasure to meet you, too, Michael McLean. If I can be of any assistance while you’re in the city, please don’t hesitate.”
    â€œAn Irishman who knows Boston so well?” Michael said.
    â€œMy home away from home,” Danny said.
    â€œHe’s a citizen of the world,” Moira’s father announced, joining them and throwing an arm around Danny. “We’re about to close up the place, Moira Kathleen. And if you’ve such a busy workload tomorrow, perhaps your friends should get on to their hotel rooms.”
    â€œMoira, are you coming back with us for a while? Check out what we’ve done with the scheduling?” Michael asked. His voice was all innocence; after all, her father was standing there.
    Moira was determined, under Danny’s watchful eye, to say yes and to say it with enthusiasm. But before she could open her mouth, her father was speaking.
    â€œAh, daughter, not tonight. Please, don’t be going out on the streets tonight.”
    â€œDad, I’m not going far. Just over to the Copley.”
    â€œIt’s late.”
    â€œDad…”
    â€œThey’ve just found that poor girl’s body.”
    â€œDad, I’m as disturbed as you are about the murder, but I’m not going out soliciting—”
    â€œMoira Kathleen! It’s the hour. And what makes you think the innocent are less likely than the sinners to be harmed?”
    â€œShe may not have been a sinner. She might have just been trying to get by,” Moira told her father, then wondered why she was arguing the point.
    â€œMoira, perhaps your dad is right. It’s very late, and it’s your first night home,” Michael said. His eyes spoke his regret, but it made her happy that once again he was trying to make everything work with her family. That kind of attitude meant that they were in it for the long haul.
    â€œAll right, it is late,” Moira said. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she told Michael. She stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss good-night. He smelled good, she thought. The texture of his jacket was nice against her hands. I really do care about this man, she thought. He’s handsome, sexy and so much more. Solid, decent, confident,