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  • Home > Samantha Young > On Dublin Street Series > Moonlight on Nightingale Way (Page 62)     
  • Moonlight on Nightingale Way(On Dublin Street #6)(62) by Samantha Young
  • Surprise moved through me at the request. I honestly hadn’t known why he’d asked me to stay back with him, but for some reason that had been the last thing on my mind. “Oh… um… I have a pretty tight schedule at the moment, but why don’t you give me your e-mail address and I can send you some recommendations for other editors?”

    He looked disappointed but nodded. “Sure. I understand. Thank you. I’ll give you my number instead.”

    I rummaged through my purse for my phone. “Okay. And thank you again for helping me out back there, Mr. Tatum.”

    “It’s Patrick,” he corrected with a soft smile that definitely verged on flirtatious. He rattled off his number to me once I had my phone in hand. “Call me so your number will come up on my phone and I’ll know who you are.”

    I did as he said.

    “You do know that was just a cheap ploy to get your number, right?” He grinned mischievously at me.

    My lips parted. “What? Even the ‘I’ve written a book part’?”

    “No. That part was true. But if I can’t get to know you while you edit my book, I’d really like to get to know you over a coffee or something.” His smile widened at my surprised expression. “Think about it. Please.” Patrick glanced at his watch and sighed. “I’m taking detention today, so I need to go.” He started walking backward, smiling at me the whole time in a way that left no doubt that he was flirting. After the last few days, it was a very nice feeling to be found attractive. “I’ll await your call, Grace.”

    I waved my phone at him and spun around, grinning from cheek to cheek as I strode down the hallway.

    It was funny how that giddy feeling completely evaporated as soon as I caught up with Logan and Maia on the Meadows. There was an awkward silence upon my approach, and I knew Maia was desperate to ask me what her history teacher wanted with me.

    “Why weren’t you at work?” I said to Logan, diverting the conversation immediately.

    “I’m working tonight.”

    “Do you want Maia to come to me?”

    “Nope.”

    “Who is looking after her, then?”

    “I don’t need looking after,” Maia huffed.

    “Shannon,” Logan said.

    “How is Shannon?”

    “Fine.”

    I shivered at the chill Logan was giving off. I felt like we were meeting all over again. However, his monosyllabic, gruff way with me was even more unpleasant this time around.

    I thought of Patrick, who actually seemed attracted to me. Maybe Aidan was right after all. Maybe there really was hope.

    Upon our return to Nightingale Way, Maia followed me into my flat and Logan disappeared into his own.

    “What did Mr. Tatum want?” Maia said immediately.

    I wrinkled my nose at her. “You really are getting very nosy.”

    “Well?”

    “Maia.”

    “Dad’s upset.”

    I huffed. “Not about that, I assure you.”

    “You know, for a smart lady, you can be pretty dumb.”

    I narrowed my eyes on her. “Watch it.”

    It was her turn to wrinkle her nose. “You can’t date my history teacher, Grace.”

    “If you must know, Mr. Tatum asked me for a favor.” I slumped down onto my armchair and stared up at her as she glared down at me in irritation. I tried to keep my tone gentle. “But if Mr. Tatum was to ask me on a date, or if anyone was for that matter, it will be up to me whether or not I decide to say yes. Maia, I’m not stupid. I know you’re hankering after something to happen between your dad and me, but it’s not going to happen. I’m sorry.”

    Tears sprang into her eyes, making me feel guilty as hell.

    “Maia.” I stood up, but she’d already spun on her heel and dashed out of my flat.

    I heard the slam of Logan’s front door and slumped back in my chair, wishing my life weren’t so freaking complicated and that I didn’t care so damn much about one fifteen-year-old girl and her annoying father.

    CHAPTER 18

    It would suffice to say that I could not get to sleep that night. I tossed and turned for hours, until eventually I gave in and got up to do some work.

    At around four in the morning I was in my sitting room stretched out on the couch with my laptop, working on Joss’s manuscript. I was having the best time with it. The lady knew how to bloody well write a good book. This was when my job was amazingly fun, because I got to read a great book and then advise on little things that I thought might help make it greater.

    I was lost in Joss’s compelling heroine and whether a scene she’d written that let the reader dive a little deeper into the heroine’s psyche should perhaps be brought forward in the plot so the reader could connect with her a little faster, when —

    BANG! BANG! BANG!

    I jolted up on the couch, my laptop almost sliding off of my lap at the sound of a fist banging on my front door. Wary, I got up, placing my computer aside, and hurried down the hallway on tiptoe. I peeked out of the peephole, and my heart leapt into my throat.

    I unlocked the door, yanking it open to reveal Maia standing there in her pajamas with hair disheveled and face pale. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

    She shook her head. “Dad’s having a nightmare.”

    Worry instantly moved through me. “A nightmare?”

    Maia nodded. “He’s thrashing around and all sweaty. I’m really worried.”

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire