“You bet, Dr. Riordan.”

Dr. Riordan stood and climbed the steps to the dais, taking the podium. “I hope everyone enjoyed the wonderful lunch. Let’s give a round of applause to the waitstaff and caterers for their attention to our needs.” He began applauding, and the audience joined him.

“I am privileged today to introduce Mr. Wyl Sterling. Mr. Sterling boasts an unparalleled reputation as a computer programmer, having worked in cybersecurity while serving in the United States Marine Corps. He retired from the Corps almost eighteen months ago. He and his husband, Dr. Rod Bonner Sterling, own a ranch in West Texas, a ten-square-mile ranch. No wonder they use horses in Texas.” Dr. Riordan laughed, and the audience joined him.

“Dr. Bonner earned his doctorate in musicology, and if I’m not mistaken, he was the featured speaker at the symposium on the university campus yesterday. Rod, stand up for the audience.”

Rod stood and the audience applauded as he waved to the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, without further delay, I give you our esteemed guest speaker, Mr. Wyl Sterling.”

The audience applauded as Wyl approached the podium and shook hands with Dr. Riordan.

“Thank you, Dr. Riordan,” Wyl nodded to his host. “As we planned our trip, my husband shared a humorous story about one of his previous trips to Ireland. Although this is my first time in the Land of the Shamrock, Rod traveled to Ireland twice before. On one trip, he and his friends sat in a bar in Galway, enjoying an afternoon drink. When the barman brought the glasses of foamy Guinness, one of his friends commented, Oh, a clover in the foam.” Wyl paused while an uncomfortable chuckle rolled through the audience. Rod explained to him the Irish use the term shamrock when referring to their national symbol. “Deportation proceedings began, Gardaí was called in, and the group of friends fought to stay in Ireland.” The audience roared with laughter. He had them in the palm of his hand. He took what many considered to be a boring topic and made it enjoyable…even to an audience familiar with his topic.

Rod admired his husband as he engaged the audience. An aminated speaker, Wyl strolled the stage and used his hands to emphasize points or focus the audience's attention. As a master speaker, he came across as full of confidence and able to transform the audience into a group of participants. Rod wondered how he missed this side of his husband. As Wyl finished his presentation and the audience leaped to their feet and applauded. Dr. Riordan once again took the podium.

“Thank you, Mr. Sterling, for the in-depth talk of computer security and keeping cyberspace safe. I think the audience will agree your presentation is the highlight of our symposium so far. Folks, let’s give another round of applause to the Sterlings for being here with us today.”

The audience erupted in enthusiastic applause. The introduction of Rod as Wyl’s husband cemented their relationship with outsiders and validated their reason for being in Ireland. And the presentation further increased Wyl’s potential value to one particular attendee at a table in the back of the room…Ailbe MacGowan.

* * *

Ailbe and Declan met Wednesday for their usual afternoon drink at O’Connell’s Pub.

“You should have attended Wyl Sterling's presentation at the symposium luncheon today, Declan. He is much more gifted than I realized. His bio in the campus newspaper article about the symposium did not begin to reveal the depth of his knowledge and experience. We need to make every effort to become close friends with the Sterlings. I need Wyl.”

“What about Rod?” Declan asked. “To use Wyl, you need Rod. Wyl will likely cooperate more if we have Rod as insurance.”

“Fair point. Those two are inseparable. The article in The Advocate didn’t begin to cover their relationship. I never met two guys so committed to each other. If we have one, we will have the other, giving us a huge advantage.”

“Did I spot an evil gleam in your eyes?” Declan said.

“Success is ours, Declan.” Ailbe raised his glass of Bulmers in a toast.

Declan raised his glass, clinked, and they to a self-congratulatory sip.

“Let’s ask them to meet us at Wilde’s tomorrow evening for dinner,” Declan suggested. “James Pearson will be performing. By getting Rod to talk about music, he will relax and be part of the social interaction we are trying to create. We’ll find out their plans so we can strike when the time is right.”

"But how do we reach them? We don’t have phone numbers or email addresses.”

“Relax. The handout for the luncheon gave a short bio and indicated the Sterlings took a flat at CityPoint in Eyre Square. We can call the apartment manager’s office and ask for the message to be delivered,” Declan said.

“I like the way you think. Can you make the call? I’ll be busy with a class in the morning and won’t be able to do it first thing.”

“Leave it to me,” Declan said.

Early Thursday morning, Declan called the CityPoint management office and asked for delivery of a call-back message to the Sterlings. The flat superintendent agreed and took the information.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The following day, a knock at the door interrupted their late breakfast.

“I wonder who that is?” Wyl’s fork clattered to the plate, and he stood to answer the door. Looking through the peephole, he recognized the flat super. “It’s the superintendent. I hope nothing is wrong.” Wyl opened the door.

“Mr. Sterling, I have a message for you.” The flat superintendent handed Wyl a note. “A gentleman called and asked for me to deliver this.”

“Thank you.” Wyl took the note and closed the door. He unfolded the message and read it.

“What is it?” Rod asked.

“A request from Declan.” Wyl eyed Rod. “He asks for us to call him. I wonder what he needs?”

“I can’t imagine he would leave a message with the flat office for something other than a social call.”

“You’re right, babe.” Wyl picked up the landline phone and dialed the number.

Declan answered after two rings. “Declan Knowlan.”

“Declan, Wyl Sterling.”

“Wyl, good of you to call.” Excitement showed through Declan's voice. “Neither Ailbe nor I asked for a way of contacting you. I hope you’ll forgive the unorthodox use of your flat superintendent.”

“We didn’t think of exchanging numbers, Declan. If you have caller ID on your office phone, this number is our flat phone. You're welcome to use it any time.” Wyl glanced at Rod and shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what Declan wanted.

“I do, and I’ll write it down,” Declan paused and noted the number. “How about meeting Ailbe and me at Wilde’s Pub for dinner and drinks this evening? We want the opportunity to become better acquainted.”

“Tonight at Wilde’s? Sure,” Wyl glanced at Rod for a thumbs-up or thumbs-down. Rod nodded in approval. “What time?”

“How about seven? We can have dinner and catch James Pearson’s gig.”

“Sounds great. Until seven.”

“Oh, and before I forget, Ailbe mentions over and over how much he enjoyed your presentation yesterday,” Declan said. “With such a crowded hall, he didn’t have time to tell you himself, but he was impressed. I’m sure he’ll mention it, but I wanted you to know.”

“Thanks. I’ll blush at the appropriate time when Ailbe says something about the presentation,” Wyl laughed and hoped Declan got the joke.

Declan nodded. “Say hi to Rod for me. Later.”

“Bye.” Wyl hung up the phone.

“Well," Wyl shook his head. "Mr. Mysterious exuded friendliness on the call."

“Sounds like the stage is being set. I’m sure Ailbe will want to lure you into his scheme, but they'll befriend us first, so it becomes more of a friendly favor than anything."

“As long as we understand what we’re walking into, we’ll be fine. Keep your guard up, Rod, but let them in. We must make them believe we are nothing more than honeymooning Texans.”

* * *