Was it her fault he was on the phone with his employer when she came ’round? Certainly not. And could the blame be laid on her that he wasn’t the sort of man who paid any mind to service people?

Unless, she imagined, they looked like Darcy, and then a man would have to be deaf and blind, and likely dead a year or so not to give her a long second look. But that was beside the point altogether.

He’d let her in himself, with a fussy and impatient wave of his hand. Then had simply gestured toward the bath and gone back to the phone. Such treatment didn’t hurt her feelings. She was there to do some plumbing, after all.

But she had ears, and was there any reason not to use them?

“I apologize for the interruption, Mr. Magee, the young man’s here to fix the plumbing.”

Young man? Brenna bit her tongue and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll fax the report as soon as I’ve put it all in a cohesive form. That may be after business hours in New York, sir, so I’ll send copies to your private line as well.”

In the bath, Brenna rattled her tools. From her angle she could see only Finkle’s polished shoes and a thin strip of dove-gray sock.

“No, I haven’t been able to get the name of the London firm that’s interested in the property. The elder brother, Aidan, brushes it off, claims the other one is confused. I’d have to say it’s more than possible for the younger to confuse things. He’s amiable enough, but doesn’t appear terribly bright.”

Brenna snorted, then began the business of snaking the drain. As quietly as manageable.

“However, judging from the reaction, the body language, and the speed with which this lapse was covered, I’d have to say there has been some negotiation in that corner.”

Finkle was silent for a moment. Brenna strained her ears and heard the light tap-tap of his fingers on wood. “Yes, it is a lovely place. Picturesque, unspoiled. ‘Simple’ would be my word. It’s also remote. Having seen it, and having spent this short time here, I would have to go back to my original opinion, sir. I hardly see this theater project being a financial success. Dublin would be a more logical choice. Or failing that—”

Silence again, then the faintest of sighs. “Yes, of course. I understand you have your reasons. I can assure you that the land the Gallaghers have is the best location in Ardmore. The pub appears to be just what you expected. It’s off-season, of course, but it does a steady business, and it’s well run under the elder Gallagher’s hand. The food is first-rate, which I admit surprised me. Not at all your average pub grub. The sister? Yes, she’s . . . she’s . . .”

The bumbling had Brenna biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a bark of laughter. Men were so predictable.