Page 6 of Trusting Liam (Taking Chances 2)

“Seriously? I don’t know! How far away is it?” I asked as I ran to Kira’s room. Throwing open the door, I didn’t wait for her to tell me to leave—as she had so many times this week—I just shouted, “Stop crying and get ready! We have interviews!”

“I’m not going,” she said automatically, without looking at me.

“Yes, you are,” I hissed. “Uncle Eli set these up for us. You’ll go and thank him for it later. Get ready!”

“It’s not far from you; ten, fifteen minutes tops,” Uncle Eli said distractedly. “I’ll text you the address, try not to be late. But I’ll explain it if you are.”

“Thank you! I love you!” I said quickly before hanging up and running to my bathroom to fix my makeup and hair. I didn’t check on Kira again; if she ended up not getting ready and deciding not to go, then that was on her. I needed this. I needed to get out of this condo so I wouldn’t continue feeling the way I had been. I needed something to look forward to that wasn’t a new day of moping because I was in the wrong state.

May 29

Liam

“GIVE IT UP, old man,” I said on a laugh as Dad got ready to throw the wadded-up paper from his sandwich into the trash. “You never make it anyway.”

Wadding up my own wrapper, I eyed him as he stared down the trash can for a few more seconds before carefully tossing his wrapper—and missing. I immediately tossed mine in and grinned mockingly.

“Bastard,” he scoffed.

“Don’t take the loss too hard, it’s not the first time.”

He smiled and rolled his eyes before checking his watch. “Tell me about these girls coming in. You didn’t say much on the phone.”

I held my arms out to the side, then dropped them. “I don’t know anything about them other than they’re Eli’s nieces, and twenty-two. He just said he wanted them to try to find something to do here, or get some friends. Apparently they’re not happy they’re here.”

My dad gave me a look. “Not happy they’re here?” he asked, and when I nodded in confirmation, he shook his head. “If they’re twenty-two and not happy here, why don’t they go where they are happy.”

“Question of the week, Dad. I have no clue. But I owe Eli, so I told him I’d arrange the interviews. You don’t have to hire them, I really don’t care either way . . . I know you’ve already had a handful of people apply; so does Eli. I think he’s just hoping that if

they get out once, they’ll continue to do so.”

“Jesus, you’re making them sound even worse. I’m expecting awkward, shy girls who never leave their house.”

The phone in his office beeped a second before one of the receptionists told him the girls were here for the interviews, and Dad exhaled heavily as he stood up.

“I’m sure this will go over well,” he mumbled sarcastically, and slapped at my shoulder as he passed by me. “Thanks for the lunch, bud. Go see your mom soon, she’s been complaining about how long you’ve been gone.”

“Yeah, all right. At least be nice to them for Eli’s sake,” I called out just as he walked out the door.

He looked around the doorframe with an amused expression. “What is that supposed to mean? I am the nice one around here. I could always let Konrad do the interview . . .” He trailed off, and I shook my head as I laughed.

“I know you are, but you also look scary as shit. We don’t want to scare them so bad that I get fired.”

With a loud laugh, he turned and walked away. My dad had owned McGowan’s Gym since sometime around when I was born, and he and his business partner, my uncle Konrad, had changed this place a lot over the years. It was a fighting gym, and always would be, but instead of a place for people to only work out or train for the ring, they now offered classes depending on what kind of training you wanted, and had a large bar up front for before-, during-, and after-workout drinks.

Dad had been an underground fighter in college until the doctors told him if he didn’t stop, he’d risk paralysis, so McGowan’s was the only way for him to stay doing what he loved without giving my mom a heart attack. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still built like a fighter and able to take on anyone who wanted to challenge him in the ring; it just meant he was a lot more careful. And it was because of his confident presence mixed with his large appearance that I was betting the girls wouldn’t last more than a few minutes with him before leaving.

But then I remembered Mason and realized they might be more used to guys like my dad than we had given them credit for.

After cleaning up the rest of the lunch I’d brought with me as a thank-you for his agreeing to the last-minute interviews, I left the gym and was back at work within twenty minutes.

I’d been in my office for an hour when Eli came in talking to me before he even had a foot in the door. “Did you go to the gym?”

“Yeah. Talked with Dad for a bit, he was with your nieces when I left.”

“So they made it?”

I looked up at him from my computer at the relief in his voice, and responded slowly, drawing each word out, “Did you think they wouldn’t . . . ?”

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