Page 4 of A Billionaire Abroad

“And he’s paying you to be here, yah?”

Through tight lips she answered, “Yes.”

“And he calls the shots, yah?”

She pushed out a breath. “Yes.”

“What you have there, Keighley, is a boss.”

He was the most annoying guy. “Do you consider him your boss? Because your situation is basically the same as mine.”

He laughed. Healwayslaughed. “I pay for my own flat, thank you. And I’m here only as a source of information. Books don’t have bosses.”

“Then be informative instead of obnoxious.”

Again, he laughed.

She kept her calm. “What venues could we book on such short notice that wouldn’t be a complete disaster?”

“We’re running at cross purposes, here. As I asked you before, is your b—is Mr. Westcott wanting a formal event or a casual one?”

“He has left those details to me.” Perhaps that hard truth would finally get through to Conall that Sterling was not her boss.

“Then what is ityou’rewanting?”

“At the moment?” she grumbled.

His grin was almost as grating as his laugh.

“My aim is an event that will be both impressive enough to give those in attendance confidence in the investments that are being proposed to them and enjoyable enough that they build a more personal connection. That is Sterling’s strong suit when it comes to forging new business relationships.Heconvinces them every bit as much as his business track record.”

“I’d say, then, an upscale venue but laidback program.”

As annoyed as she was with the man, that was exactly what she had in mind. “What upscale venues could we book quickly?”

“Based on the way the staff here falls all over themselves whenever your man walks in the room, I’d say he could have the ballroom here for the asking, even if it’s already booked.”

“He’s not ‘my man.’”

Conall held his hands up in a show of innocence. “Not what I meant. If you’re to spend any amount of time in Dublin, that’s a phrase you’ll have to learn to understand. Speaking of ‘your man’ doesn’t mean a man that actually belongs to you in any way. In America, you’d say something like ‘you know who’ or ‘that dude.’”

His attempt at an American accent made her smile despite herself.

“Ah, you do know how to not look sour. Shocking.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Maybe I’m only sour with you. Did you think of that?”

He nodded. “I did. But I’m certain that’s not it.”

“Are you saying you think I’m just a sour person?”

A shrug. “Is there anything that makes younotsour?”

As a matter of fact. “I went for a walk this morning,” she said. “I saw what I thought at first was a castle, but then I realized it might have been a church.”

“Probably a church,” he said. “We’re overrun with them.”

“And the air smelled like rain.”