Page 20 of An Angel's Share
“I just don’t want to become Patrick and his scattergun projects. I know Dermot pushed him on, encouraging him to branch out, move into other areas as a means to rejuvenate the family business. But gin? Really? And his attempts were all an unfocused mess of one thing after another. None of his ideas worked. All white elephants,sucking the profits and then leeching off the capital from the company.
“But here, as part of the distillery, it would be relatively low cost to change things. It just needs a vision. I can see the potential in the business elements, and I could make that fly, but the creative bit, not me at all.”
She knows her limitations. Always the sign of a good, confident leader. Utilise other people's strengths, harness them. Focus them and make it work for you.
“My sister is amazing at interiors, especially if the buildings are old and quirky. She loves them. Even I can see what she could do with this. It reminds me a bit of her old factory she lives in. We just need to make sure it complements what you want to do.” My tone is supportive. And I make sure I’ve got my hands next to hers, letting my energy flow into her.
“I thought of getting Christy involved with the running of it. She runs the house, the kitchens. Do you know we buy in cakes for here, when we have a fantastic chef at the house. But apparently he is too busy to make a few cakes. And do you know why?”
She stops and looks at me expectantly. Her boss bitch attitude is starting to kick in, and I feel my cock starting to harden, God, I fucking love confident women. This one especially, it seems.
“Patrick has turned the house into a hotel. All of the senior management level, people who he has brought in, have full access to all food cooked.” Her voice is starting to rise along with her blood pressure. “All meals provided, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They don’t pay a thing towards it. And to top it off, they all live on the estate rent free.” Her head is shaking in amazement. “What a joke. The amount of money we’re just handing over, plus salaries, ishuge, and clearly has gotten out of control over the past few years.”
She picks her hands off the table and starts checklisting items off on her fingers. “Golf fees paid for. Whiskey paid for. Travel up to Dublin paid for. Anything additional asked for, agreed and oh, paid for.” Her face is going a glorious shade of pink. She’ll be as red as her hair next. “Do you know the head of marketing spends two days a week in Dublin moonlighting for another firm?” She waits expectantly whilst my face shows the correct amount of shock. “We pay him for five days. Patrick was worried he’d leave, so lets him go. They are having a laugh, atO’Clerysexpense.”
Her indignation has hit fever pitch. Her face and neck a red glow. Her brow furrowed. I can see the pulse pounding in her neck. She needs to calm down. This is not good for her. My heart hardens towards Patrick and his merry band of idiots.
I keep my voice calm. I need to calm her, but not distract her from her course of action. That does need sorting. I just need her calm whilst she’s doing it. “I didn’t know that. It seems excessive at best, and negligent by Patrick at worst. Are you going to sort it?” I grin at her knowing exactly what the answer will be.
“You bet I am. My only worry is that I’ll hit them so hard, they’ll try to get me evicted. No one in that room is going to be happy. Even Daddy and Dermot.”
My grin gets wider. She’s preparing for a fight. “Stick to your guns, don’t let them doubt you. Don’t give them an inch to do so, and I’ll back you,” I state with maximum conviction.
She looks me over, not sure if it’s to see if I’m genuine or not. I hold her stare.
“That’s a nice thought, Jonno, and thank you. But to be honest, you don’t have a say. It will be up to Marshall.” She sighs.
“It was interesting to learn Marshall retained his interest even after he moved away, and is still a master blender. My cousins may not understand his value, but I believe we need him wherever he lives. His experience and skill are legendary. Daddy’s waxed lyrical about it non stop as long as I can remember.
“But Uncle Marshall is still a bit like my dad. They care more about the family dynamic than the business. They want harmony, not serious profit.O’Clerysis a means to an end, to ensure we all have money, and a purpose. Beyond that, they aren’t bothered. Oh I know my mammy thinks Daddy has ‘given his life and therefore hers toO’Clerys,’ but he hasn’t. Not really. The business has not really grown in any serious capacity in well over a decade, maybe two. Patrick has just pushed it the other way. But growth? None.
“And the shame of it is, I could see how we could enhance our family brand, both internationally with the whiskey, but also at home. I’d like to work with partners in the surrounding areas and make this little part of Ireland a tourist must see. Sell the dream around the world, along with our fantastic whiskey.”
Acceptance replaces excitement and fervor as she lays it all out for me. Her dreams, the pitfalls the business has faced, her family’s involvement.
I look at this woman as she dejectedly stares at her coffee. Even though I have declared my intentions regarding her body and the baby, do I trust her? There is still a thief to be caught, or at least stopped. But is she the one? She appears to care so much about the business, but is it just a show? The more money she can make and funnel her way,the more she can steal. If she stops Patrick’s business plans, there would be significantly more money to embezzle.
Or is it Patrick? Creating those fronts, those projects to look like he’s going for the title of theWorld’s Worst Businessman. The money supposedly squandered. But was it really? Was it actually lost or is it just resting in an account somewhere? The company accounts showing his mishaps.
He’s brazen enough about it. Not remotely bothered. The figures are all there, making it look like it was wasted. He has had a lot of crappy ideas, and a lot of good money was thrown at him. There are going to be candidates all around that boardroom table.
But Aoife… Could it really be her? God, I don’t want it to be. My heart and gut say it isn’t, but my head is still sitting on the fence.
9
Jonno
I can seeshe’s still mulling things over, and looking more depressed by the second. Action is needed, a distraction.
“Let’s get a buggy back. I know Marshall and your dad have already gone.”
She looks up as she never noticed. I stand and go to help her out of her chair, touching her back again. She shivers when my fingers brush the exposed skin on a strappy section of her dress. I smirk at her, but don’t say a word. I don’t need to. She knows exactly what I was thinking. And she looks annoyed.
But the more annoyed she looks, the wider my grin gets. “What?” I ask, switching from grinning to innocence.
“Don’t make me ring your brothers-in-law, Jonno.” She looks all cocky as she spouts her threat, hands on her hips, legs wide apart. She’s bringing the attitude. I love it.
I throw back my head and laugh. “Ring away. You won’t get any sense out of them.” I chuckle.
