Page 48 of Tender Temptation

“Excellent.” Stanley nods, his piercing blue eyes assessing me. “I trust there won’t be any issues?”

“No, sir,” Peter replies confidently. “We’ve got everything under control.”

Stanley turns his attention back to me. “Cillian, I hope I can trust this project is in capable hands. You were late this morning.”

“Uh…sorry, Mr. Bright, I had a family matter,” I lie, feeling mortified he noticed. The truth of the matter is, I slept through my alarm.

He squints, then points at me. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

Stanley walks away and Peter and I exchange a glance. “He’s a hard man to please,” Peter mutters.

“Yeah,” I agree, my mind drifting to Ivy growing up under his tough scrutiny. I wonder how she’s doing at Stanford, but quickly push those thoughts aside. I have a job to do.

Thirty minutes later, I’m in my truck on the way home to shower before I head out for the evening. Before I can stop myself, I’m parked at BevMo, where I pick up four bottles of Red Breast. Every time, I tell myself my drinking is under control—I only drink to silence my mind long enough to fall asleep.

I know it’s a lie.

I’m terrified I can’t stop.

Tonight, I have dinner plans with my brothers, Seamus and Brennan. I’m not looking forward to it. I’ve avoided family dinners ever since I ended things with Ivy because I don’t want to talk about it. Everything is too raw and painful. It’s easier to try to get through each day alone.

Once I’m home, rather than shower, I sit at the counter, pour myself a drink and stare out into the space. The ache in my chest intensifies picturing Ivy and me cuddled up on the sofa watching a movie. I miss her beyond words. Taking a long sip, I wish the whiskey would numb the wound. I know better, though. It won’t heal. It never does.

Let’s be real, no amount of alcohol will ever fill the void Ivy left behind.

My phone buzzes with a text from Brennan.

Where are you? We’re waiting at O’Malley’s.

Fuck.

Feeling a pang of guilt, I pick up the phone. The truth is, I don’t want to see my brothers tonight. I text back.

Not feeling well. Can’t make it. Catch you later.

Moving to the sofa, I sit down with a fresh glass and savor the whiskey burning a familiar path down my throat. I’m lost in thought, but vaguely hear the elevator churning its wayup. I’m not surprised to see Brennan and Seamus emerge, concern etched on their faces.

“Cillian, what the hell?” Brennan demands, holding up the half-empty bottle. “You said you weren’t feeling well. Seems like you’re fine here drinking by yourself.”

“Fuck off.” I shake my head.

Seamus, my youngest brother sits beside me. “We’re worried about you, Kill. This isn’t normal.”

“Seriously, guys.” I glare at them, the alcohol fueling my irritation. “What’s it to you if I have a few drinks at home? I’m not hurting anyone.”

Brennan’s expression softens. “We’re worried you’re going down a path. It’s a slippery slope when you start hiding your drinking.”

“I’m not, Dad,” I snap. “I’ve got everything under control.”

“Do you?” Seamus asks quietly. My softspoken brother is different from the rest of us. “Because it doesn’t seem like you do. You have the world at your feet. The business is doing better than ever, this should be the best time of your life. Don’t let everything you’ve worked for slip away because you’re drowning in a bottle.”

I look away. The truth of their words stings but they have no idea the Bright Shipping project doesn’t come close to being the best time of my life. The seven weeks Ivy andI spent… “Stop making such a big fucking deal. I have a lot on my mind. A couple of drinks before bed helps me sleep.”

“We get it.” Brennan sits on the other side of me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Can’t you find another way to relax? Drinking yourself into oblivion isn’t the answer. Youknowthis.”

I scoff and take another swig. “You two think you know everything, huh? You think you understand what my life is like?”

“We saw what Da’s drinking did to him.” Brennan’s voice is steady but pained. “And we’re worried about you following in his footsteps. You missed his fucking birthday party. We know it wasn’t work-related, you were here on your own getting drunk. You should know, it tore Mom apart.”

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