Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“The Duke?” Corbin asked.
“He owns it. I think.”
“A duke who owns an Irish pub?” Hayes asked. “It sounds like some sort of weird joke.”
“He can’t be an actual duke, right?” Corbin said.
“Ahh, well, I don’t know. No one really sees the Duke. Except his staff, I guess. They relay messages. He could be an actual Duke. Or someone who just calls himself that. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The point is that this isn’t a place with a sign or that is advertised or anything like that. It’s a secret. Something you tell people about who you . . .”
“Who you what?” Corbin asked.
“I don’t know. Trust, I guess? Or want to share the secret with. People who need something.”
“What does that mean?” Hayes asked.
“Sometimes, I just come here for a drink, to see my friends, to escape from my own head. It helps, and it’s a bit less adrenaline crazy than my other escape methods. It’s said that if you ask for something while you’re there, something you really need that is deemed worthwhile, then you’re granted it.”
Corbin glanced over at Hayes. What the hell?
“Look, I know it sounds crazy. But it happens. People share their needs, their wishes and sometimes, those things come true.”
“So you’re saying it’s magic,” Hayes said.
“No, I’m saying that perhaps sometimes the Duke or someone or something hears those wishes, and helps them come true.” She shrugged, looking slightly sad. “When I quit college and came back here I was in a dark place. I needed something to believe in. One of my friends was really worried about me and brought me here. A woman was sitting at the bar. She was in her early fifties. Her husband had died last year after a long illness, and she was in tears because she was about to lose her house. The following week when I returned, she was there again, smiling because someone had paid off her mortgage.”
“And she didn’t know who?” Corbin asked.
“No. But her wish came true and I’ve seen more miracles over these past ten months. And who wouldn’t want to hang out in a place where miracles happen? I mean, it’s got three of my favorite things, beer, miracles, and Cool Whip.”
“Um, Cool Whip?” Corbin asked. “That’s one of your favorite things?”
“Who doesn’t love Cool Whip?” she asked.
“You can buy all that at Walmart,” Hayes pointed out. “Well, except for the wishes. Is that one of your favorite places, too?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they started selling wishes. And yes, it is.”
“Why does a pub have Cool Whip?” Corbin asked.
“For the fairy tale cocktails, of course.”
“A bar that serves up wishes, beers, and fairy tales,” Corbin said. “I really have to see this place to believe it, I guess. Lead on.”
This wasn’t the sort of place he’d thought she’d want to hang out in.
He was still shocked that there really was a pub down this alleyway.
Who the hell created a pub down a dark alleyway that no one could see or should actually be walking down?
They reached a heavy metal door. There was no signage, just a keypad next to the door and a camera above it that turned to them as soon as they’d approached.
Bebe entered a number into the keypad and the door suddenly creaked open.
That wasn’t creepy or anything. They entered a small, grim foyer and waited until another door opened. A huge, bald dude with a scar across his forehead entered.
Holy shit.
The guy was so broad that he actually had to walk into the room slightly side-on. Corbin tensed and reached for Bebe just as the guy smiled.
It wasn’t a pretty smile. In fact, it was the stuff that nightmares were made of. Corbin was pretty sure that this guy could have played a role in a horror movie and he’d barely need to act.
So when Bebe threw herself at him, Corbin might have reacted badly.
As the big guy reached for her, Corbin grabbed her and dragged her back, pushing her behind him.
His heart was racing as he held her there. “Hayes! Get her out of here!”
He’d take on the behemoth himself, but this guy was not touching his Bebe.
“Corbin! This is my friend!” She attempted to get around him, but something inside him snapped.
She’d promised to obey.
And at the first hurdle, she was doing stuff like this. Half-turning, he glared down at her. “Didn’t you promise to obey me?”
“Us,” Hayes said.
“You need to let go of my Bebe-girl,” the behemoth thundered. “Before I rearrange both of your faces.”
“It’s all right, Shakespeare,” she said, holding up a hand to the bigger guy. “No need for any rearrangement of faces. Yet.”
Shakespeare? Seriously?
What the heck kind of name was that?
“Corbin, stop acting like this. I said I would follow the rules. If there’s a threat! But there’s no threat there. Shakespeare is a friend.”