I don’t think I gave this enough thought.
Am I even old enough to work here? What makes me think that I can just walk in off the street and get hired? Craziest of all, is it even smart to go to work in an Irish Pub the week before Saint Patrick’s Day?
There’s nothing left for me back home. My only family, my mom, is here in Ireland with her new husband.
I’ve never even met my new stepbrother, owner of said Irish Pub, but I’m about to.
I thought this would be the beginning of something new. A new life. A new family. And boy was I right...just not in the way I thought.
The look in my stepbrother’s eyes is not of brotherly affection, but instead laced with the intensity of a hot blooded hungry man…starving for me.
They call it the luck of the Irish. And they might be right because I think I just struck gold. But can I keep it?