Chapter 9
They pulled into the parking lot of Morna’s Folly, the small Irish pub Danny had suggested. While they stood waiting for the hostess to notice them, Evan looked around. It was a pleasant, down-to-earth place—not exactly what he would have guessed as the hangout of the heir to the Carmody fortune. The pub was done in dark wood paneling and brass lamps. The walls were lined with wooden booths. A low hum of conversation surrounded them, punctuated by occasional groans and cheers of the men at the bar watching a basketball game.
The hostess turned and, recognizing Danny, grinned and declared, “Danny Carmody! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you. Dinner for two?”
“Not tonight, Trish. I’d just like a booth in the bar, if possible, where we can have a quiet drink.”
“That I can do.
