“Women are born to deceive a man.” Taking his moment, Shawn sipped, enjoying the way Brenna moved in the old man’s bony arms. “But I’m watching them, and the others who’ll get up now and then, and I wonder wouldn’t it be interesting if when we shuffle things about with the theater, we found someplace for dancing.”

“That’s what the stage is for now, isn’t it?”

“Not professional dancing, but this sort. You know, how they do in a beer garden, but I’m thinking more intimate.”

“Well, you’re thinking that’s for certain.” But Aidan paused long enough to watch, scan the faces, consider. “It’s something we might slide around with Magee when we get to the design of it all.”

“Ah, Brenna, she had a kind of design she sketched up. I have it in the kitchen still. Maybe you’d like to take a look, and if you like what you see, you might be interested in the more formal drawing I asked her to do.”

Intrigued, Aidan looked away from the dancing and into his brother’s eyes. “You asked her, did you?”

“I did, because I think she knows what we want and what Magee should build. Is that a problem for you?”

“Not a problem, no problem at all. It’s making me think, Shawn, that you had it right about the legalities of things not changing the heart. I’d like to see what our Brenna has in her mind.”

“That’s fine, then. And if you like what you see, you could send it off to Magee for his thoughts.”

“I could, but I’d think the man would have his own designers.”

“Then we’ll have to find a way to bring him ’round to it, if it’s what we want. Couldn’t hurt,” Shawn murmured, still watching Brenna, “to have our fingers in it early on.”

“It couldn’t,” Aidan agreed.

However prettily Brenna could dance, Aidan needed her back behind the bar shortly. He caught her eye, sent her a quick signal. But even as she acknowledged it, he saw her gaze slip past him to Shawn. Even though he was a bystander, Aidan felt the heat of it.

“I’ll thank you not to distract my bartender when we’re three-deep around here.”

“I’m just standing, drinking my beer.”

Well, stand and drink in the kitchen, unless you’re after having half the customers raising their eyebrows over the pair of you.”

“It wouldn’t bother me.” He held the look another moment, a kind of test. “But it does her.” Because it would annoy him if he dwelt on it, Shawn slipped back into the kitchen.

It wasn’t a problem to keep himself busy until closing, and he calculated another hour at least to clean up before he could call it a night.

He was scouring pots when one of the musicians strolled in. She was a pretty blonde named Eileen, with sharp features and hair chopped short to show them off. She had a fine, clear voice and a warm disposition. Shawn had admired the first and taken advantage of the second, in a friendly sort of way, when her band had been booked at Gallagher’s before.