Chapter Twenty-Three
Connor
The proposal was only the beginning. Now it was time to get the contracts and prenuptial agreement set up with Da’s attorney, Thomas O’Malley.
Soon the office would get wind of our engagement, and the whispers would go all the way up to the board.
The plan had all worked, and within a month, we’d be married. I was counting down the days until Murphy Pub would officially be back into a Murphy’s hands.
Guilt riddled my gut. I’d get what I wanted with the company. She’d walk away with her bills paid, a job in Chicago, and her nana set for life.
This moment had seemed so far away. But now that it was so close, questions flitted my mind. What if this didn’t have to end?
I shook it away. This was what we wanted. I had to keep telling myself that and ignore the nagging feeling deep in my chest.
After getting out of the shower, I dried off and wrapped a towel around my waist before walking into the living area.
I thought I’d have time to get dressed and make breakfast. But Fallon was already sitting at the little table by the window in our flat, one cup of tea in front of her and another in front of the empty stool.
“You brewed me tea?” I asked, taking the seat next to her. My gaze lingered on the diamond on her ring finger with a knowing grin. She could have taken it off at home, but she didn’t. I wondered how much of this was real for her and what was for show.
“I would’ve made breakfast, but I didn’t know when you’d get out of the shower. And you’re more of the cook than I am. I’d probably just make toast.”
The grin spread across my face. I adored her rambling and how her cheeks turned as scarlet as her pajama top when she spoke.
“I probably owe you breakfast, anyway, after being an arse yesterday. I just wanted everything perfect for the proposal. Sometimes when I go for too much perfection, I turn into a real headcase.”
“It happens. You were nervous. I get it. You made up for it. Which, by the way, you didn’t have to do any of that,” she said, waving her hand.
I caught her hand midair and held it, brushing my thumb along her ring. “I did, pinky. I told you I was going to give you romance and flowers. You deserve all of that and more.”
My heart raced every time I touched her. I was sincere when I told her she deserved everything. She also deserved better than a guy who wanted to marry her for business.
She laughed slightly, shaking her head. “You know, this is a lot of work just for a company.”
I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t even sure myself why I cared so much. At first, it was so people wouldn’t get suspicious.
But no matter how real or fake this was, I wanted to do this the right way. Someday she would probably move on to some American man who enjoyed things like wine and reality TV shows. But maybe she’d still think fondly of her first marriage and wouldn’t completely regret everything we were doing.
Because I couldn’t.
We were in this together, for better or worse. “Speaking of inheritance and a wedding, we’re going to meet with my friend Patrick today. Think my brother will let you take a longer lunch?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. The more we got into feelings, the more I wanted to change the subject.
“Has he gotten wind of our engagement yet?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”
“Then this is going to be one hell of an interesting morning.”
After breakfast, on the way to the office, Fallon kept fidgeting with her ring or a button on her blouse or whatever else she could find. She held her breath up the stairs, not even letting it out as we approached her desk.
I could already see my brooding brother’s crinkled brow from his office.
He’d see the ring on Fallon’s finger, and the office staff would be there asking details. But first, we had to deal with the dark elephant in the room.
“I’ll go in and talk to my brother. You catch up on emails, okay?”
She nodded, her throat bobbing with a hard swallow.
I squeezed her shoulder before walking away from her desk and opening the office door. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or because Jack kept the office at fifteen degrees so no one would think he was a descendent of Satan.
“Sean told me the news. I’m not sure if I should congratulate you or ask if you’re here to brag,” Jack said, not even looking up from his computer.
“Thought you’d be happy that your middle brother finally found someone. Would have invited you to the proposal, but I figured you’d decline or give me that crinkled, judgy forehead like you’re doing right now,” I said.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before he stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. “I don’t know what shit you’re trying to pull with my assistant. If this is just to make some poor American bird fall in love with you, then divorce her as soon as the company is yours, I’m going to kill you.”
“That’s not what this is at all. I care about Fallon.” And I meant those words, so much more than I’d realized.
“Yeah, it sucks that the inheritance clause was sprung on us, but you know what? It was the exact thing I needed to get my shit together. I didn’t know Fallon when I first ran into her, but then I got to know the selfless, caring, beautiful girl that she is.”
I took in a deep breath. The words about Fallon were true, and I knew that deep within my heart.
We were silent for a few beats before Jack raked his fingers through his hair. “So you really do love her?”
I didn’t know how to answer that one and a lump caught in my throat at the thought. I had strong feelings for her, but I never thought about being in love with anyone.
Breaking our silence, Jack spoke again. “I received an email this morning. There is an opening in media relations for a business analyst. I may have overheard Kara talking to another coworker about how she may have fallen pregnant, and the father may be Bill in accounting who is married to the VP of media relations.”
“Bill and Kara? I always thought she was his assistant or something, but that makes a lot more sense now,” I said, wondering where he was going with this subject change.
“You were right about looking at Fallon’s CV. She doesn’t have the opportunity to reach her potential, not that she isn’t trying, working for me. As much as I hate to admit it. And with her marrying you and taking on the Murphy name, it would look better for her to be in a different department. Wouldn’t want the other employees to think I’m showing favoritism.”
I smiled, nodding to him. “I think that sounds like a grand idea.”
Even though this was all temporary, I wanted her to find a better position in the company. And maybe, just maybe, there was a small part of me that hoped she might like the job enough to stay around Ireland a bit longer. We were silent for a few beats before I drummed my fingers on Jack’s desk, voicing what I’d been thinking ever since that day in the conference room.
“Why do you think Da put the clause in the contract if Mam passed and he never met another woman? Never fell in love again?” I asked, putting my hands in my pockets and quirking a brow. Just like Jack and Da, I could easily bury my feelings, but this was something that had been gnawing at me for some time.
He shook his head, slowly blowing out a breath. “I don’t know. I wish I did. One thing I knew about Da, though, was his focus on the business. Maybe he didn’t want his boys to end up alone in the end, like he was.”
“Ah. You’re probably right,” I said, nodding and trying to think of the last time Jack or Sean was with anyone. For a brief moment, I thought about what my brother was losing.
He’d been running this company for years, ever since he left school and a girl in London for the job. Now, our getting the company all depended on us getting married. And if we didn’t, none of us would have the business.
I could tell him about the agreement. Then, I thought of how harsh his reaction would be.
Not only could I lose the company, but Fallon would lose everything as well.
It was better just to keep things as they were, no matter how hard guilt plagued me.
“I hope you’ll be at the wedding, Jack. It’s just a small thing at the church, but I’d love you and Sean as my best men.”
A small smile crossed his hardened face, the first one I’d seen on him in a long time. He put his hand out. “I’d be honored, brother.”
…
I told Fallon we were going to see the church and to eat afterward. I didn’t mention that Patrick was one of my best lads from childhood, or one of the few people there when I proposed.
As soon as we walked into the small church, recognition dawned on her. She stared at the tall, fit man in all black with the giant cross behind him like she just saw a ghost.
“This is the priest?” she whispered, squeezing my hand.
“Technically I’m a brother. I’m not officially ordained to the priesthood, but do have the rights to perform a religious ceremony outside of the traditional mass,” Patrick said with a smile, holding his hand to her. “And when my childhood best mate told me he was finally ready to settle down, I knew I wanted to be the one to join him and his girl in holy matrimony.”
She shook his hand.
“Shocked your fiancé’s childhood mate is a man of the cloth?” I asked with a laugh, putting my arm around her.
“What? No. Certainly not.” She waved her hands in the air in front of her.
Patrick smiled. “Don’t worry. I get that a lot. Some of the women in the parish call me ‘Father What-a -waste,’” he said, shaking his head.
“But you’re not a priest…right…or are you? Do you wear that white collar and have to, um…” she asked, fidgeting from one foot to the other.
“Sorry, Patrick, when she gets nervous, she rambles. It’s actually adorable after you get over the initial awkwardness,” I said, finding myself smiling.
Patrick nodded. “They’re valid questions, Fallon. I’m not a priest, but I still abide by similar vows, just not all of the ones you’re probably thinking of.”
Fallon opened her mouth to speak, but I cleared my throat loudly before she could ask about his sex life. “On that note, should we head into your office?” I asked.
He nodded. “Right this way.”
We followed him down a narrow hallway, where he opened a door.
There was absolutely nothing in the room that said anything about Patrick. The only other piece of furniture besides the lamp and computer on his desk was a bookshelf full of different religious books.
He closed the door behind us before going to his desk.
“Have a seat, please,” he said, extending a hand toward the two worn leather chairs in front of him.
I gave Fallon a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder before we both sat down.
Patrick typed a few things on his computer then glanced at us. “Now, Connor says he wants a June wedding. Since it’s already May, I can’t promise anything for the beginning of June, but we can fit you in on the last Saturday of the month, if you’ll have it.”
“What do you say, Fallon? A late June wedding?” I asked, turning toward her.
She stared straight ahead. “That’s a month and a half away. How do we plan a wedding, move into a new house, and everything else in our lives in that time?”
“Is that a yes or a no to June?” Patrick asked.
Fallon swallowed hard, and her eyes met mine.
“It’s a yes for me, pinky, but I won’t do anything you don’t want to.”
“The planning a new house…work…I know you want to do this all as soon as possible, but this seems like an anxiety attack waiting to happen.”
“What if I take care of the details of the house and the wedding?” I blurted, feeling like Fallon with the sudden word vomit. But I was the one to approach her with all of this, so why not be the one to plan it? And if there might be a new job offer in her future, she had to concentrate on that as well.
“You? While doing your work?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“It doesn’t need to be anything huge or fancy. A small wedding with friends and family. Then we can have the reception at the distillery museum on the first floor of our offices. At the end of the day, all that matters is that I’m marrying you.”
She chewed on her bottom lip for a second before she slowly nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it. A late June wedding it is.”