“Fine. So I’m immature.” The label clearly did not bother him.

“Liam, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

“I’ll tell you who’s jealous,” he said bluntly. “Peter. He’s jealous of me, and afraid of losing you. Or at least of losing control of you.”

Nancy gaped. “But Peter’s got Enid, and besides—”

“I got that jerk’s number the minute I laid eyes on him. ‘You’re the guy who spirited away our manager,’” he mimicked in a whiny voice so much like Peter’s, Nancy almost betrayed herself by smiling.

She caught herself just in time. “Peter and I have been friends for years. It’s normal that there’s some ambivalence—”

“Ambivalence?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “He’s pissed because for the first time, he doesn’t get to have his cake and eat it, too. He took advantage of you the whole time you were together. Then he met Enid, and he wanted her, too, so he figured out a way to keep you both. The perfect setup. You to get the gigs, and Enid to suck his dick and fluff his ego. Nobody’s going to give you the respect you deserve for free, Nancy. You’ve got to demand it. You’ve got to put your foot down.”

Nancy opened her mouth in automatic denial, then closed it. A dull pain in her belly told her that he was speaking the truth. An ugly, dangerous, ill-timed, inconvenient truth. But she couldn’t deny it.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said slowly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that it was wrong of you to say what you said out there.”

Liam shrugged. Right or wrong. He did not care.

An aching silence spread out between them. Nancy wanted to howl in frustration. “What the hell do you expect me to do about it?”

“Get rid of them,” he suggested matter-of-factly. “Fire them.”

She gave a short laugh. “It’s not that simple. They’re my clients, Liam, not my employees. And besides, they’re also my—”

“Friends, right.” His voice was heavily laced with irony.

“Yes. Friendship is complicated. You work things out. Over time.”

“They suck you dry, and don’t even thank you, let alone reimburse you. They’re spoiled children. Get rid of them.”

Nancy threw up her hands. “Liam, you can’t just fire your friends. You have to find solutions, compromises.”

“Nope. News flash, Nancy. You don’t.”

“You’re not very good at compromise, are you?” she asked slowly.

He stared back. His silence answered for him.

Nancy clenched her hands. “I can’t deal with this conversation right now,” she said. “I’ve got enough to worry about. So please. Either keep your mouth shut around my colleagues, or leave now. Agreed?”

Liam started to speak, stopped himself. He nodded.

She braced herself. “Does that mean you’re staying?”

He nodded. She let out her breath in a long sigh of relief. It wasn’t the wall. A reprieve. Maybe. She pulled her key card out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Here. You take this, and I’ll get another one made at the front desk. Get yourself settled in. Mandrake plays in”—she glanced at her watch—“an hour. Same room as Peter and Enid’s showcase. See you there.” She opened the door, turned. “Liam?”

“Yes?” His voice was wary.

She searched for words to express the yearning in her chest. She was glad to see him, missed him, wanted him. Maybe even loved him.

“Nothing,” she whispered as she slipped through the door.

Liam strode down the corridor, self-disgust sour in his mouth. Being rude to her ex had been bad enough, but spouting off preachy crap to Nancy was worse. Telling her how to conduct her business. Like he had the right. Damn. He mouthed the word as he stabbed the elevator button. A blue-haired old lady gave him a nervous look and a wide berth. Good instincts. He was an animal tonight. Lacking in social skills. What were the earmarks of maturity? Grace, delicacy, minding your own goddamn business? He came up blank in every category.

No more scenes. If he could get through the conference without any fuckups or fistfights, he would be rewarded by four days of solitude with Nancy. The elevator pinged. It was almost time for the Mandrake showcase, so he headed toward the hall.

“Hey, Liam!”

Liam turned to find Eoin leaning against the wall, freckles standing out in sharp relief in his pale face. Liam clasped his hand, which was ice cold. “Nancy told me you would be playing. I’ve been looking forward to it. How’s it going?” he asked.

Eoin shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve only rehearsed three times.”

Liam slapped him on the back. “You’ll be great. Don’t worry.”

Eugene and a tall, skinny black guy came charging down the hall, looking excited and self-important. “Come on, man, let’s do it!” Eugene said to Eoin, as they surrounded him and bore him away.

“Break a leg!” Liam called. Eoin shot a final desperate glance over his shoulder. Liam gave the kid a thumbs-up.

He went into the crowded hall. No chairs left. Nancy was on the other side of the room, talking to Matt, the big redhead he had met at the seisìun at Malloy’s. She turned, gave him a tentative smile.

He smiled back. Her smile widened, became brilliant. God, she was pretty, dressed up in one of her ninja outfits, hair pulled into a braided bun, earrings dangling down to her jaw. Exotic, elegant. He leaned against the wall and stared. She made every other woman in the room look commonplace. That airhead Enid was insipid in comparison.

The lights dimmed, and Mandrake came onstage to tremendous applause. The lanky black guy laid down a complicated primal-sounding rhythm, and Eoin promptly launched into a fiery Irish reel, followed by Matt and Eugene on the guitar and fiddle, and finally a scrawny blond girl who played what looked like an endless variety of wind instruments.

They were excellent, and Liam applauded after each piece till his hands tingled. The pulsing energy of the music soothed something raw and savage inside him. He was fiercely glad that Eoin had fallen in with this group. They would keep him happy and busy until he found his feet. After they finished, he pushed his way through the crush and gave Eoin a quick, hard embrace. “Great job,” he said. “You kicked ass.”

Eoin grinned. “Thanks,” was all he had time to say before he was surrounded by chattering, congratulating people.

Something poked Liam in the back, and he looked around to find Nancy smiling at him. “Weren’t they fine?”

“Excellent.” He swept her into his arms. “Sorry,” he whispered.

He offered up a silent prayer of gratitude as her body softened, went pliant in his arms. He’d gotten through the crisis. This wasn’t the wall. There was still time, still grace. His arms tightened hungrily around her. “Do you have more to do tonight?”

She looked through her eyelashes. “Theoretically, I could network for hours. But I don’t have any appointments until tomorrow.”

He saw Peter, who was scowling at him from across the room. Liam grinned, baring all his teeth, and nipped Nancy’s ear possessively.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” he asked.

She looked guilty. “Um…”

He rolled his eyes. “Nancy, for God’s sake—”

“Okay, okay, don’t scold. I forgot. So sue me. Let’s go get something. Want to ask Eoin and the others if they—”

“No. I want to be alone with you. I missed you.” He leaned over, sucked in a whiff of her perfume. “You smell good.”

She stood up on tiptoes and kissed his lips. “I missed you, too.”

Dinner options were scarce at that hour, but they found an all-night pizza place that delivered. It arrived in their room shortly after, and Liam watched with approval as Nancy enthusiastically devoured pizza.

“Wow,” she murmured, licking her fingers. “Guess I didn’t know how hungry I was.”

“No wonder people take advantage of you. You never eat. It takes energy to put your foot down.”

She snorted and grabbed another piece. He made another cautious attempt at conversation. “So the conference is going well?”