Page 121 of Severed Rivalry
The week is mostly uneventful. There’s some teen angst at school and annual standardized tests that add school-sponsored stress, but our week is easy. It’s fun. It’s new.
Rosie recuperates and, aside from not having the same energy she had prior, she is sprightly and back to her old self, though being here with us has had its own challenges. It seems that Cian’s playful touches and causal kisses remind her of what she lost in losing Randy.
Renée has told me she can hear RoRo crying at night, but we’ve not had a chance to really dig into it. Our chats while we waited for dinner to finish while Née would be on her phone in her room aren’t available, but I’ve still tried.
I love that Rosie had that kind of love, but it breaks me she lost it so young. I understand that all too well and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Well, almost anyone.
Connect2Coach is no longer viable in the iteration it was designed for. The idea is still good, and I toy with buying it. I could acquire it for pennies on the dollar, but that’s a lot of pennies. A lot. And owning, operating, and cyber security are three jobs. I’m ill-equipped for all but one. But still, it’s fun to dream about the feel-good, do-good work that provides such critical connections.
Ci slides in next to me at the island. “Ayla’s on her way. Shecompleted the audit. She hates accounting. And not in the way I hate lima beans or taxes. As in she feels about it like the Grinch… hate-hate, double hate, loathes entirely.”
My laughter interrupts his ridiculous rant. “So you’re saying she hates accounting. Why would she do an audit for you?”
“Some of Murphy Enterprises’ money was legal. Some was not. I needed a person I could trust to follow those trails, parse out what was legit and what wasn’t. Keep and hold evidence in the event we need it?—”
My eyes blow wide.
“Angel, I’m leaving M.E. The only reason I haven’t is because my finances are so entangled with it. I have to make sure I’m clean, that the house is good.” He looks around at his home. Our home. “And that we have a paper trail to ensure my father cannot pin anything on me as a scapegoat. And to guarantee I could walk away without legal consequences. If it weren’t me—and our father too—she probably wouldn’t touch it. I mentioned theloathes-entirelything.”
“I’ll make myself scarce. I have jobs to search for anyway.” I slide my laptop closed, but his palm drops to the lid preventing me from taking it.
“Please don’t. I want you here. I just want to prepare you for one”—he lifts a finger to begin ticking things off. “The accounting rant. And two, the vitriol that will be shared about Seamus Murphy. It’s not good, Angel. I haven’t told you everything.”
I slide my chin back, as if he’s lied to me.
“I’m not withholding. We’ve had a handful of great days interspersed with insanity. Don’t knock me for not making every day a drama fest. I’m wooing you.” If the man had a dimple, it would pop with the boyish grin that spreads across his face.
“Consider me wooed.” I lean in and kiss him.
Rosie clearing her throat has us pulling back like kids being busted by a parent.
“Hey, Rosie.” Cian turns her way. “My sister is coming by. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”
“I missed her last time,” she puts in. As if that first seizurehad them as two ships passing in the night and not what was required—a mad scramble for coverage.
“You’ll like her,” I add. “She’s delightful.”
“Correction, she’s a terror, but a likeable one. She also has memory issues. She’s got a gap for the last couple of years. Just want you to know in case you hear anything like that.” He gestures to the island. “Want some tea or juice? I can make coffee.”
Eleanor whimpers at the glass storm door at the front of the house, fidgeting and fighting to hold her seat.
“I wouldn’t argue with coffee.”
“Neither would I,” the voice yells from the foyer. “Hello, my girl. I’ve missed you. Have you been a perfect baby? Did you miss Franklin?”
“I was wrong about the terror,” Ci says. “There are two.”
“I heard that. It’s only me today, but I’m glad you think my perfect puppy is?—”
She skids to a stop and looks around the island as Eleanor drops her butt to the floor at her feet. She watches Ayla with rapt attention as if waiting for her next command. “Sariah, hey!” She comes straight for me and wraps me in a huge hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She turns, looks straight at Rosie. “I’m Cian’s terror-slash-sister, Ayla.”
Cian
“I’m Rosie.”
“It’s great meeting you.” My sister looks her over. “Renée thinks you hung the moon and then lassoed it just for her. I trust her judgment.”
