Page 14 of Ciaran

I stare at Callum expectantly, daring him to restart the argument.

“Yeah,” he eventually concedes. “We’re good. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”

He saunters over to his bedroom door, his anger dissolving like a fog burned off by the morning sun. It’s Callum’s way. A flash of temper, a few cutting words, then he carries on as if the altercation never happened. He rarely holds grudges, other than with Indie. He’s made an exception for her, poor woman.

He presses down on the door handle, but the door doesn’t budge. He tries again. Still no luck.

“The door’s stuck.”

“Want a hand?” I say, getting to my feet.

From the other side of the door, Laurella’s voice comes through, loud and clear. “The door is not stuck. The door is locked.”

Callum’s eyebrows squish together. “Why is it locked?”

“Because you are a complete stronzo. You dismiss me so easily? Now I’m dismissing you. Do you know what I’m wearing in here? Nothing. And you won’t get to see any of it. Sleep on the couch. Goodnight.”

Callum’s facial expression when he turns toward us is the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Declan and I burst out laughing.

“You’re so fucking whipped,” I say.

Callum tries the door handle again. “Come on, Ella. Open up, baby.”

“I’m not your baby, and I am certainly not your Ella. Only my family get to call me Ella. You are not family. You are a stronzo.”

My laughter grows, and Callum flips me off for the second time in as many minutes.

“You could sleep in Nate’s room,” I say, strolling across to my bedroom. “Although he didn’t change the sheets before he left last time, and who knows what he got up to in there.” I open my door. “Well, would you look at that. Mine opens just fine.”

Grinning, I walk inside. The last thing I hear is my brother’s hissed curse.

Serves him right.

Chapter 5

Millie

While running a hand over my dress for what feels like the twentieth time in the last hour, I peer at my reflection, hoping my outfit is suitable because it’s the nicest thing I own. Tanner had taken me to the mall on my twenty-first birthday and told me I could choose whatever I wanted as a present. Conscious by this time of his acute jealousy, I’d picked this adorable, cornflower-blue number, which falls a couple of inches below the knee and doesn’t show off too much cleavage. When we returned home, I’d tried it on, twirling around the living room, so excited to have a new outfit.

But Tanner had told me I looked like a slut. It showed too much leg, too much of my breasts, and the color was all wrong. I looked washed out. On and on he ranted, until I’d stripped it off, shoved it in the back of my closet, and never wore it again.

I frown into the mirror now, because Tanner had been wrong. The dress is perfectly respectable, which is just as well. I don’t have any spare cash for a new one. It’s a little big around the waist, but a belt should fix that.

A half hour later, at five minutes to ten, I stand outside The O’Reilly Manhattan.

Wow. It’s such a classy place, yet small, intimate, and homely.

My mouth is dry as a desert, unlike my palms which are clammy and hot, forcing me to dig around in my purse for a tissue to wipe them on.

I hope Ciaran will be here to greet me. I don’t remember Declan all that well, and I’m dreading coming face to face with Callum. Even though Ciaran told me Callum is in a committed relationship, it still feels strange knowing I’ll see him again. I’ve spent the last thirty-six hours expecting Ciaran to call and tell me he’s changed his mind, then I remembered I hadn’t given him my number, nor my address.

Pulse racing, I nibble on my lip. Oh, God, I could be here, all excited at the prospect of earning money, and Ciaran and Declan might be inside waiting for me to turn up just so they can tell me the deal is off.

Get a grip, Millie.

Taking a deep, calming breath, I fix my purse on my shoulder and walk up the steps into the lobby.

The reception desk is made of cream marble, with a dark-gray granite counter, and the wording O’Reilly Manhattan painted in rose gold lettering on the front. A vase of summer flowers on top sets the whole thing off beautifully. Behind the desk the walls are painted in a coffee-and-cream stripe. The whole ensemble is the height of class and luxury.

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