Chapter Ten
Callum
It was my own fucking fault. I admit it. When I eased into my own kitchen about a week later, whistling to myself, I should have known better. I simply hadn’t been expecting a self-invited guest.
“You’re humming bad eighties tunes, Dad.”
I arched an eyebrow back at Symone, who’d invited herself into the kitchen. I wasn’t surprised. She was a busy graduate student of history and tended to let her own apartment’s kitchen run barren. I bet her fiancé hated that, but then again, he wasn’t exactly a gourmet cook himself. My staff kept me well stocked with anything I could want. Right now, Symone was helping herself to a generous portion of lox, fresh fruit, and a roll just baked this morning.
“There is no such thing as a bad song from the 1980s.”
“Hair bands. Only two words you need to know about them.” She smirked and shoved a piece of pineapple into her mouth. I hoped she appreciated how much it cost to import that. Then again, kids never did get it. “You’re very happy.”
“And aren’t you going to be late for lecturing undergrads?”
“It’s still only seven. Anyway, nice deflection. You’re definitely happy.”
I started fixing myself the usual breakfast of a protein shake and egg whites. I was going to have a huge meeting over a different merger opportunity later this Friday morning, and I wanted to start it with the optimum energy boost. Maybe it was good that Symone was over so all the fruit didn’t actually go to waste. Well, it would have been, if my daughter knew when to leave well enough alone.
“I have a good business plan getting off the ground today with a particular acquisition.”
She shook her head. “No, this is different. It’s unlike how I’ve seen you in, well, years.” The playfulness was out of her tone, and she eyed me with sincerity. Pushing a few stray, red curls from her face, Symone said, “You really do seem at peace or excited in a way you haven’t since Mom. Okay, spill. Who’s the girl?”
“What?”
“You obviously have someone really special, not like all the others. Call it ‘women’s intuition,’ but I can totally tell.”
Raking a hand through my hair, I sighed. “I still can’t believe you’d be okay with all of this, kiddo.”
“First, it hurt to see you this sad. Second, I’m going to be off and married soon, and I need you to have someone else to focus on besides me.”
“Maybe you just want your old dad’s scrutiny out of your life.”
“True, but I mean that. Also, if you haven’t been seen out with her in the tabloids, it means she’s not the usual flighty bint you tend to be seen with.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Symone wasn’t wrong. Iris was special, every bit the gorgeous, irreplaceable flower her name implied, and she was what I’d been looking for since I’d grown restless. Since I’d admitted I was lonely.
“Fine, I guess I’m not as mysterious as I try and be.”
“Not around someone who knows you so well,” Symone chirped back. “What’s her name? How’d you meet?”
“Her name is Iris Kilshimer, and she’s an intern in my office.”
Symone’s smile froze in place. “Is she younger than I am?”
I shrugged, trying to play it casual, even though I expected her rightly to ream my arse out over all of this mess. “She’s a rising senior at Trinity, so yes.”
Symone didn’t speak for a few minutes, and I expected her to lay into me then, to tell me that it was nuts, that everything I was doing was too much for her. Instead, she set her bowl of fruit aside and came to set her hand on my shoulder. “Dad, if someone makes you happy, they make you happy. I just am so scared for you being alone.”
“I’m forty-seven, not eighty-five. Also, I’m not alone when I have to run a multinational conglomerate day in and day out.”
“If Iris makes you happy, then I’m happy. I won’t say it isn’t weird, but if this is something that makes you not so miserable, makes you get out there with someone you really care about for the first time in fifteen years, then I’m willing to try.”
I swallowed hard. Symone reminded me so much of her mother. Priscilla had always understood my every move, always had that regal grace that I admired. I squeezed the hand over my shoulder. “I am so grateful for that.”
“Great. Now, biggest question: When do I get to meet her?”
***
“Excellent news. Thanks, Paul,” I said, finishing my conference call. Hopefully, I didn’t sound too rushed, but I had a lot on my mind.
It was nearing five o’clock, and I wanted to take off so I could enjoy a long, luxurious Friday night with my perfect vixen. Second, not only was I elbows deep in securing this deal currently, but next weekend was the annual charity ball our company sponsored. While Frances did most of the detail work, I still had final approval. Besides, since it was for the Irish National Cancer Foundation, I wanted it to be the best it could be. Every year for fourteen years, I’d tried to outdo myself, to ensure we had more money than ever before. Priscilla would have wanted that. I needed year fifteen to be the largest, most successful yet.
It just made it harder to concentrate on the final details of schmoozing the zoning official about the newest property I was sniffing out.
“Well, you know how it is, mate. I think you’ll like that district, and they’re willing to cut taxes for some development northeast of the city. Also, I really appreciate you being able to get some last minute tickets for Agatha and me. I’ve heard it’s quite the social event.”
“But of course,” I said. It was a small enough gesture to give up extra fundraiser tickets to make sure I got the tax breaks I needed. After the Donelson merger loss, I was keen to show Seamus all over again why I literally owned this town and most of Ireland. “See you next Saturday then.”
“Be there with bells on!”
I clicked off the phone and stood to grab my coat. If I hurried, I could snag an early reservation at that new Ethiopian place I’d heard rave reviews about. There were some advantages of still being the biggest developer in the city, and a huge part of that was whatever I said fucking well went. However, as I turned to rush out the door and find Iris to yank with me, I had to groan instead. Before me stood Seamus, but at least he had the sense to keep his eyes downcast and stop with his bigger gorilla shtick. It was obvious which one of us was in charge here.
“Are you trying to save our friendship, McCartney? Because I think it’s been clear for a while that we’ve been drifting.”
“Mate, I said things…but I was trying to get you there, get you fired up and out of your rut.”
“Or you’ve enjoyed me being distracted earlier at work and swooping in to pick off my best deals. I’m sure you’ve also needed someone to go along with you on your outings or whatever.” I slung my jacket on and then let my hands lie at my sides. The temptation to ball them up into fists and settle this in a more immediate way was overwhelming. “I’m done with that.”
“So, you’re willing to trash over thirty years of friendship? I mean, who else was there for you when you were new and picked on at boarding school? Who was in your wedding party? Who helped give the COO advice when you took off after Priscilla’s death?”
“Who is insulting me at every turn and seems to be stuck as a permanent manwhore and adolescent?”
Seamus clenched his jaw before relaxing it again. “You used to love what we got up to together.”
“And a week ago, you were rubbing my face in the Donelson deal and warning me to watch my back. What do you really want?”
Seamus rubbed at the back of his head. “Fine. I wanted to make sure I had the ball invite still.”
“Why on earth would I do that? I think you know we’re done here.”
“Because it’s the event of the Dublin social scene? I’ll look like a right fool and total arsehole if I’m not there.”
I snorted and crossed my arms over my chest. “I think you know by now that you’re both of those things. Get out, Seamus, and stop groveling. It’s not an image that looks good on you. In fact, it’s downright pathetic, but you’d know a lot about that. Wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t want to be embarrassed, mate. You need to think about who you want to make an enemy of.”
“Oh, you started that once you went that step farther and snuck up on me like some punk at my own apartment. Why—”
“Hey,” Iris said, walking in through the door. “Mrs. McCabe has about ten more sheaves of paper for you to sign for that big event coming up. And you, Cal, owe me a good time this weekend after so much schlepping and oh.” Iris finally focused on where Seamus was looming in the corner of the room. Blushing, she hurried to my desk and set the papers on it. “I…Mr. O’Brien, I’ll just get those signatures later. I had no idea that you were in a meeting.”
Giving her a curt nod, I replied, “That’s fine, Ms. Kilshimer. Please leave us.”
She didn’t say another word as she scurried out the door.
“Now it all becomes clear, doesn’t it?” Seamus grinned. “I see what your revelation was, and it’s bloody cradle robbing.”
I straightened my tie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Seamus snorted and started to pace. “The casual names, the talking about a great weekend? I’m not second in the city in this business cause I’m an idiot.”
“You’re second because you can be an aggressive, impatient arse,” I said. “That’s my newest secretarial assistant. She’s not anything more than that.”
“Right, and that’s Seth Kilshimer’s girl. I recognized her from their last holiday card. They always send one early in December and take a yearly family photo. It was from over the summer because they mentioned it was her only time home from Europe. I didn’t realize she was in town. Wonder what your best man would say about you having an affair with his daughter?”
“There’s nothing to say.”
Seamus yanked out his phone and started to dial. “Then I’ll just run it by Seth just to be sure.”
I walked back around my desk and slammed my fists on it. The thud rang out between us in the room. “Damn it! What do you want?”
“A ticket to the ball. I want to save face, and you want to save yours, as well as a few other appendages should the girl’s father ever find out.”
I gritted my teeth. “Fine. You get one ticket, no date, and if you get within a hundred meters of her, I’ll have you castrated myself.”
“Then you’re getting inspiration from the bare minimum old Seth will do to you. Jesus, mate, never known you to take a chance that stupid.” Seamus chuckled to himself as he headed to the door. “But it’s better for me that way. Definitely need to keep everything up to par; besides, what’s a party without your old mate Seamus?”
“Bearable.”