Page 14 of Lucky Strike

“Can you meet me for lunch?”

“I can’t, not now.” I return to the laptop, to the numbers telling me what sort of life I have to live to stay afloat. “I’m busy. And money is tight.”

“Then I’ll stop by and bring lunch to you.”

“Maeve…”

“Please. I need to talk to you, really talk, and you need to eat,” she pleads. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes, okay?”

Maeve spreadsthe takeout cartons on my tiny kitchen table, revealing a feast of bibimbap, japchae, and bulgogi. She even got me kimchi stew, one of my all-time favorites. The Kelly kids introduced me to Korean food when we were teenagers, and I suspect she’s using it now to butter me up. It might work. I’m starving, and my stomach gives an obnoxious growl at the savory scents mingling between us.

She drops gracefully into a chair across from me. “I know you’re drooling, so dig in while it’s hot.”

“You didn’t have to do all this,” I mumble, picking up my chopsticks. “But thanks.”

“I feel really bad about how things went down yesterday.” She mashes her lips together, looking down. “My brother’s under a ton of pressure right now, but I had no idea he would treat you like that.”

“I know it’s been a while, but he acted like he was seeing a ghost!” I huffed. You’d never know we’d been close once upon a time. Really, really close.

“He’s been through a lot over the past few years. He’s a great dad, though,” she says around a bite of kimchi. “I’ve never seen him so devoted to anyone or anything, not even work.”

“It’s so weird thinking of him as a father,” I admit. I don’t say it out loud, but I try not to think of him at all.

“Did you get a chance to meet Liam?”

“No. Yesterday was just a preliminary meeting,” I say. “So, Lucky’s in finance, right?”

She nods, chewing. “Wealth management. He’s been full time at a firm in Boston for years now.”

“Must be lucrative, judging by his townhouse.”

“He likes nice things.” Maeve smiles a little. “He has several high-profile clients—he even manages my parents’ portfolios.”

That’s not surprising. In the 1980s, the Kelly family established the biggest shipping empire in Boston, which Owen Kelly—Maeve, Lucky, and Tristan’s dad—inherited when he came of age. Their mom, Sloane, owns several wineries across the country. Last I heard, she and Owen were thinking of branching into whiskey, as well.

“What’s the story with Liam’s mom?” I ask.

She brings her eyes to mine. “Rachel died in an accident when Liam was about a year old.”

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. “Lucky really is alone, then.”

“In a way. We’ve all done our best to help out, especially my parents. But they had to take a step back because of Dad’s health,” she says.

“Oh, Maeve.” I reach across the table for her hand. “Don’t tell me it’s his heart again.”

Her eyes well up, and she looks away. “They’ve been going to Massachusetts General for tests and checkups, but apparently the Cleveland Clinic is the best, so they’re flying out next week.”

“Shit.” I squeeze her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She squeezes back. “Anyway, that’s why Lucky’s scrambling. He only works at the downtown office a few days a week, but he’s crazy busy even when he works from home.” Picking up her chopsticks, she pokes at her bulgogi. “Liam’s going back to preschool in September, though. That’ll take some pressure off.”

Maybe during the day, but they’ll need to figure out nights and weekends, drop offs and pickups. Despite how things went down yesterday, I really feel for Lucky. “I have a few contacts—I probably can help you guys find someone, if you want. I know what to look for.”

“I don’t know. He’d prefer family. You know how private he is.” I didn’t know that, but it makes sense. The Kellys were always very discreet when we were growing up. Mysterious, even. “That’s why I thought you’d be perfect.”

“Why? I’m not family.”

One side of her mouth lifts in a sad smile. “Yes, you are.”

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