Page 8 of Mafia Boss' Surprise Baby

I shake my head.

“Just got a message. I have to make a call.”

When I stand up, everyone else in the board room stands out of respect. I step out of the room and press ‘call’ instead of replying to the text message. My chief accountant’s wife answers on the first ring.

“Mr. O’Halloran. It’s so good of you to call,” she says. Her voice is shaky.

“How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. I just followed the ambulance here and texted you when I parked.”

“Where’s here?”

“They took him to Beth Israel,” she falters.

“You want him at Mass General?” I demand.

“Well, I would’ve but they didn’t ask. They just pushed me aside. I tried to tell them who his cardiologist was—”

“Let me make a call. I’ll get him transferred.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure this is fine. It’s just not what we’re used to.”

“Is your daughter on her way?”

“She’ll be here in about an hour. She offered to stay on the phone while she drives, but I don’t want her distracted in traffic—” she breaks off.

“You have what you need right now?”

“I have my purse and my rosary.”

“Somebody’ll be out there in ten minutes to check on you to make sure they’re taking care of him and you,” I assure her.

“Thank you, Mr. O’Halloran,” she sniffs.

It takes me all of two minutes to dispatch two of my staff to Beth Israel to meet up with my accountant’s wife. They’ll have Ben transferred to a private room at Mass General as soon as he’s stabilized.

Half an hour later I get a message that it’s handled. Benny’s got an ICU bed waiting for him at Mass Gen and the daughter will meet them there. Jack will drive the wife to other hospital while Nicki goes to her house to pick up a few things the lady thinks she might need.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a breath.

My chief accountant is in ICU and I need a replacement. It looks like little Mary Katherine Donahue is up to bat. She can fill in for a few weeks. It’s office work. She won’t be at any risk so Rory can’t object, at least not on those grounds. If he had any idea the way I think about his sister, he’d have a reason to protest.

I could have my secretary call her, get her to come to my office and explain the situation. They can offer her the temporary position filling in for my chief accountant. Or I could call her myself. That sounds like more fun. So much for keeping my distance.

I message her and ask if she has time to meet for a quick drink to discuss a work matter. We can meet in public, a brief one-drink situation with a specific focus. The tone I set isbrisk, businesslike. The thoughts I have in my head for her are anything but that.

She says yes, naming a spot I never would’ve guessed she would pick. An old townie bar that I went to with Rory when we were younger, gritty and loud with reliably good drinks and a bartender/owner older than the hills. I go on with my day trying to pretend I’m not willing time to go faster.

8

KATE

It’s no big deal. I’m meeting the boss for a drink. It’s just to talk about work. Maybe there’s a project he wants me to work on. Or maybe Elaine bitched about how I didn’t change the toner in the copier and now he has to take a break from running his complex and largely illegal organized crime syndicate so he can deal with an HR issue involving his buddy’s annoying little sister.

Riley’s is how I remember it.

Mickey is already at a little table in the corner. He gets to his feet when I walk in the bar like we’re at some fancy supper and you have to stand up when the queen enters or something. The thought makes me laugh. I make my way through the cluster of tables set too close together in the little room that’s dominated by a gleaming, if nicked and scuffed, bar and a massive TV anchored above it.

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