Page 16 of An Irish Summer

The dreaded task of updating my résumé only took about five minutes, seeing as the only change in my career since O’Shea’s

was the Wanderer.

I thought more about the fairy story in the days after the hurling match—about decision-making and levelheadedness—and I decided

if the man was brave enough to referee the fairy hurling match, I could be brave enough to apply for a job.

“Lars,” I called from the desk when the breakfast rush settled. “Can you come out here for a sec?” Thankfully, he appeared

in under a minute, because if he had taken any longer the odds were high that I would have lost my resolve.

“What can I do for ya?” he asked, leaning his long arms on the edge of the counter.

“Does anyone ever use that projector?” I gestured to the device collecting dust in the corner of the lobby.

“To be honest with you,” he said, leaning in, “I didn’t even know we had a projector. What are you thinking?” He narrowed

his eyes and tapped his fingers together like we were concocting some sort of evil plan.

“What about a weekly movie night?” I asked.

The idea had only come to me about thirty seconds before I called Lars into the room, when I’d first spotted the projector, but now I was committed.

We’d done “Scary Movie Mondays” in my dorm freshman year when we’d been trying to get to know one another and adjust to a new place, and I was beginning to think something like that wouldn’t be a terrible idea here, either.

“Is this what I think it is?” he said. “You, Chelsea from Boston, are volunteering to get involved with the Wanderer community? Beyond the duties outlined in your contract?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving him off. “I updated my résumé this morning, and since I’m including event planning here, I’d

like it to be legitimate,” I said.

“Ah, so you’re still just trying to make it easier for yourself to leave? I’m onto you, Chelsea.” I rolled my eyes, and he

reached across the counter to nudge my shoulder. “Projector’s all yours,” he said. “Go wild.”

“It’s just a movie night.” I laughed. “Do you think Lori will go for it?”

“Are you kidding?” he said. “There’s virtually nothing Lori won’t go for. And she’ll be thrilled you’re getting involved.”

“It’s just a movie night,” I said again.

“Whatever you say.”

I shot Lori an email for approval as soon as Lars left the lobby, trying to keep the ball rolling before I could change my

mind. She answered almost immediately with nothing more than a string of emojis: thumbs-up, smiley face, movie reel, popping

champagne bottle, red exclamation point. Then a follow-up: So glad you’re getting into the spirit of The Wanderer!

I added it to the event calendar between Collin’s tours and Lars’s outdoor activities, settling on Thursday night as the recurring date.

Beneath the event calendar on the bulletin board, I posted a suggestion sheet for guests to recommend movies.

And to my surprise, there were a handful of entries on the sheet by the end of the week, one of which was circled and underlined by different colored pens.

Movie night was on.

If only I could figure out how to work the projector.

No matter how many times I turned it on and off, unplugged it and plugged it back in, and pressed every glowing red button

until it turned green, it wasn’t showing a damn thing. Just as I was cursing the very idea of the movie night in the first

place, I heard Collin’s familiar low chuckle from the back of the lobby.

I turned around to see him leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, watching me with a smirk.

“Can I help you?” I said, pushing my hair from my eyes.

“I think I should be the one asking that,” he said. “I reckon I’ve watched you struggle long enough.”

“Oh, how kind,” I said. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

“Proper craic, if I’m honest.”

“Are you going to help me now,” I said, “or just stand there smiling like that?”

“Is the smile doing anything for you?”

“Not nearly as much as a working projector would be doing for me.”

“In that case, time to see what I can do.”

I stood with my fists on my hips while I watched him work, annoyed and thankful in equal measure.

“How do you know how to do everything?” I asked as he clicked the right buttons in the right order until the projector turned

on, bathing the room in blue fluorescent light.

“You flatter me.”

“Not on purpose.”

“I didn’t grow up with a lot of money,” he said by way of explanation. “I’ve been doing odd jobs since I was a wain, and I’ve been at the Wanderer for more years than I’m willing to count, so the skills just kind of add up.”

He didn’t say any of this like it was a confession, but it still made me wonder what Collin’s life was like outside the walls

of the hostel. As the “face” of the Wanderer, it was easy to forget he had family outside of Galway who weren’t twentysomething

expats clad in embroidered polos.

“Well, I’m grateful for those skills,” I said, watching as he adjusted the focus on the screen.

“You’re cute when you’re nice,” he said, clapping his hands together once the screen was clear. “Ready for the movie night,

are we?”

“We?” I responded. “Your work is done here. For which I am grateful, by the way. But you don’t have to stick around. Hell,

I don’t even know if I’m going to stick around.”

“Just gonna toss the film on and leg it, are ya? I like your style.”

“It’s not a style,” I said. “They hardly need a babysitter. I’ll come back down at the end to put the projector and the screen

away, but I think that’s where my job begins and ends.”

“What are your plans for tonight then?” he asked.

“Applying for jobs,” I said. And I meant it. I had found a few more openings over the course of the week in reputable hotels,

and I intended on spending the duration of the movie at my laptop curating cover letters.

“On a Thursday night?” he said. “You should be on the gargle.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I should be what?”

“Out drinkin’.” He grinned. “You gotta start learning some words around here, Chels.”

“It’s impossible to keep up.” I played along, nudging him with my shoulder. “Besides, I can’t understand your accent half the time anyway.”

“Spend more time with me and you’ll get used to it,” he said. “Come down the pub tonight. Lars and I will teach you enough

slang to keep you from sounding like an eejit.”

“Lars isn’t even Irish,” I said.

“But he’s been here long enough. Rubs off on ya.”

“I have work to do.”

“The work can wait,” he said.

“If I never wanted to go back to Boston, maybe,” I said. “But I do, so. Don’t get any ideas.”

“How could I possibly?” He looked amused, but I didn’t get the sense he was really joking. “You remind us all the time.”

“Which is why I need to get the work done tonight,” I said. “If I can get a job, then you won’t have to hear me talk about

it anymore.”

“Bittersweet,” he said. “I quite like hearing you talk.”

If he kept this up, I’d constantly be at a loss for things to say.

“Well,” I tried, “maybe I’ll be able to do it more if I can get this work done.”

“Go on, then.” Collin nodded in the direction of the staff wing. A few guests were beginning to settle in, and I looked around

for others. “I’ll press play once everyone is in here, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You can repay me by coming round the pub later.”

“Don’t push it.”

“A bloke can dream.”

“Good night, Collin,” I said, channeling some semblance of resolve and turning to leave the lobby.

“See you at the pub,” he called after me. I could hear his smile, and I kept my back to him so he couldn’t see mine.

By the time I’d opened my laptop to a handful of job postings on open tabs, I was able to refocus. For the night, anyway.

With an updated résumé that was slowly becoming less of a lie, I was trying to feel confident about my prospects.

I kept an eye on the clock so I’d be downstairs before the end of the movie and used the time to write and revise different

versions of my cover letter: ones for event planning, ones for general managing, vague ones for front-of-house and other odd

jobs.

Each somehow harder to write than the last.

Not only was it nearly impossible to effectively brag about myself without sounding somehow both arrogant and insecure, it

was even more challenging to face my career goals, let alone express them in writing.

Why did I really want this job? Why did I want any of these jobs? Did I even want any of these jobs?

I dropped my head to my keyboard, wondering if the random collection of letters typed by my forehead could arrange themselves

into some semblance of answers to my questions.

No. I knew myself. Of course I wanted these jobs. I’d always wanted these jobs.

Only I hadn’t always wanted to be a full-time event planner, had I? I always wanted a job in hospitality in the city, sure,

but on the managerial side. Had I even ever considered leaving all the administrative stuff behind for good? Could I even

hack it? And was there even a real reason it had to be in Boston?

Those questions rolled around in the back of my head like marbles, and I snapped my head up from my keyboard and tried to get back to work before I was forced to play with them.

I started with Hotel Blue, then followed with a commercial chain near Faneuil Hall, and a new tourist center on the harbor.

Just in case. Somehow it felt like the summer had only just begun and yet I was running out of time to be picky.

I picked up my phone before I could speculate on what might happen if I didn’t find anything and shot Ada a text, as I’d promised

to update her on the hunt.

Three solid applications out tn. Keep your fingers and toes crossed. We need all the luck we can get.

She answered before I even put my phone back down.

We don’t need luck. You have talent. It’s the employers who would be lucky to have you.

I read her text a few times, trying to believe it, before sending out two more applications for good measure, closing my laptop,