In other words, they were setting up hoops and telling us puppies to hop through them, the sadistic fucks.
So, as badly as I’d wanted to jet right back to Seattle, the need to prove myself as the responsible human being literally no one at Blackguard thought I was had to take precedence. Laney was just the cherry on the sundae of eventually becoming CEO.
To everyone else outside of this little circle of trust, however, I had to prove that I was, in fact, a doting husband. To my father, a cutthroat one. And to everyone else, including the press and apparently the rest of Boston, I had to prove that I was stable because of the change in my relationship status.
And then, of course, there was the version I had presented to Laney to get her to buy into it from the beginning—that I liked her, respected her, genuinely saw a future with her, and because of that and everything else, I genuinely wanted the chance to be her husband. I told myself every day that it was a lie, only because if I didn’t, there was this irritatingly large part of me that suspected it might be true. And that part was a sucker that could not be allowed to take control of anything.
I was a skilled liar. Maybe one of the best. But I needed to be able to decipher the truth from fiction in order to keep my stories straight, and each of these narratives created a tangled web. It was a lot of roles for a lot of people. As The Jester, I had my work cut out for me.
Maybe I could have sorted things out with Mac. Instead, I chose violence.
“I seem to recall a certain former Navy SEAL waiting outside a lounge last week until the sun came up,” I remarked as the passenger stairs were very, very slowly towed to the side of the plane. “Shea’s nocturnal activities have been taking a lot of your energy the last few weeks.”
Above the unturned pages of his book, Mac’s jaw tightened. “Your point?”
“I believe I’m making it.”
He dropped the book. “It’s my job to keep you and your family members safe, Ronan. That does include your sister.”
“In the rain? Until five in the morning?” I adjusted the cuff of my jacket. “You could have sent one of the other guys.”
“She’s a principal, just like you. I don’t delegate any of your safety unless I have to.”
“Just seems like an awful lot of effort and lack of sleep for someone you hate.”
“I don’t hate her,” he insisted a little too harshly. “I don’t anything her, and I doubt she thinks of me at all. It’s a job, Ronan. Nothing more.”
I snorted. Now that was a lie if I’d ever heard one. Granted, Mac was about as professional as it got, so I doubted Shea presented much more than an annoyance to him. On the other hand, my baby sister pressed buttons like a toddler on an elevator, and for some reason, she liked to press Mac’s the most.
Before I could continue ribbing the big man as a way of avoiding my own obvious buttons, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out to see Liam’s face on the screen. “Hey.”
“Yeah, Mom, he answered.” He was clearly speaking to Liza on the other end. “Sorry to bug you. She’s making me call to check in.”
I huffed. The plan tonight was simple: pick Laney up, bring her to my house to change, and then attend a little soiree celebrating my brother’s recent “retirement” (A.K.A. my father’s attempt at making it look like we were all in on Brendan’s sudden retreat from the business).
“We’ll be there,” I said. At least I hoped we would. Laney still wasn’t here.
“Good. Mom’s battling it out with Violeta about the floral arrangements. You know how she gets.”
“Liza or The Spanish Inquisition?”
Liam snorted. “Both, I guess.”
“Who else has confirmed?”
“The usual. Most of the board members and majority shareholders. Oh, and get this: Owen apparently RSVP’d with a plus one.”
That made me stand up straight. In thirty-five years of having a stick shoved squarely up his ass, Owen had never once brought a date to any kind of function, company or family. While I had it on good authority (e.g., bribing his security detail) that my brother did, in fact, have an occasional sex life, he’d never once shown any kind of interest in a relationship.
Except now. When I was that much closer to being named CEO over him.
“Do you know who?” I had to ask. “Or is it just a blow-up doll he ordered off the internet?”
Liam chuckled. This was why we were best friends. He always laughed at my jokes, but not in a kissing-my-ass kind of way. “Hold on, I’ll check the guest list. Let me see… it says her name is Jenny Churchill.”
I frowned. “Seriously? That’s odd.”