Page 7 of Devlin

His grandmother's gaze came to rest on him. "I hear you've been burning the midnight oil at the Boatworks."

"I have. Not only is the race coming up in two weeks, but we also have quite a few orders that need to be finished before summer is officially here, and now I'm shorthanded."

"Yes, what happened with Frank Reid?" she asked with a gleam of curiosity. "I don't understand why he's no longer working there."

"You'd have to ask Dad. He fired Frank, and he won't tell me why. But he needs to rehire him as soon as possible."

"Wait," Logan cut in, surprise in his eyes. "Dad fired Frank? That's crazy. He's been with the business for thirty years. He is thebusiness—no offense, Devlin."

"None taken. I agree. No one matches Frank in experience and loyalty to the company."

"Well, your father seems to be causing a lot of turmoil these days," Fiona said, with an unhappy shake of her head. "I don't think it's deliberate. But he gets busy and wrapped up in his own ideas, and he takes people for granted. One of you should go get Claire. Sheneeds to be here, surrounded by her friends and family."

"I could do that," he said.

"You don't have to," Logan interrupted. "Mom is back, but something is wrong."

His gaze moved to the doorway where his mother stood. She was no longer wearing her party dress but rather dark jeans and a sweater. And as she stepped over the threshold, he thought he saw a suitcase on the floorbehind her. His gut tightened.

She clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention.

"Thank you all for coming to my party," she said loudly. "I hope you enjoy yourselves. There's plenty of food and drinks. And I know some of you haven't seen each other in a while, so this will be a good time for you to catch up. But as for me, I'll be leaving."

"What?" Graham asked, his boomingvoice ringing out across the room.

His mother's gaze swung to Graham. She put up a hand as he started forward.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not this time. You won't talk me out of it. I'm leaving, Graham. Inviting your business associates to my birthday party was the last straw. I have given you my life for the last thirty-seven years—"

"Claire—"

"It's my turnto talk."

"Then let's go in the other room."

"Why? Because this party doesn't just include the family and close friends that I requested?"

"You're making a scene," Graham barked.

"Well, it's my party; I get to do that, don't I?"

"What is going on?" he hissed.

"I'll tell you," she said, her voice choking with emotion as she looked at her husband. "I havedone everything you wanted, Graham. I have supported you in every possible way. I have been there since day one. I have seen you through every hardship, every business deal, every joy, every pain. And I always thought that one day you would be there for me, that it would be my turn, but even after I told you how worrying this birthday was for me, you decided that business was more important. Well,I'm done putting my life on hold. I've been by your side, in your shadow for way too long. I've kept your secret, even when I knew I shouldn't. It's too much. I can't do it anymore."

"Claire, stop," Graham commanded.

"I will stop talking, because it's time for me to leave. It's time for me to put myself first. Don't try to stop me, Graham."

She turned and walked out of theroom, leaving shocked silence behind her. His father seemed frozen for a moment, but then he stomped out of the room.

Devlin moved toward the doorway, crossing the threshold just in time to see his mother walk out the front door, accompanied by their handyman, Joe O'Reilly, who was carrying her suitcase.

"Do not drive her anywhere, Joe," Graham ordered.

Joe shrugged. "Sorry.She asked."

"Don't take this out on him," Claire told Graham. "Go back to your party."

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