Page 14 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“Fuck off with that,” he scoffed. “When was the last time you beat me?”

“Last week.” Sloane giggled.

“Because you’re a dirty cheater!” Sean accused. He motioned to Shane, who was quietly sipping whiskey behind me as he watched our antics. “Tell Riona what happened.”

Shane shook his head. “No way in hell am I getting involved in this. I’m not betting anybody.”

“We’ll let you play without the bet, won’t we, Ri?” Sloane offered.

“Sure,” I agreed, sliding my glass back toward the bartender and standing. It was good to have the normalcy of home again. “What are the rest of us betting?”

“I’ll clean your place,” Sean blurted.

“Intriguing.” I tapped a finger against my chin. “And if you win?”

“I get a kiss.” He smirked. "From Riona."

“Deal.” Sloane grabbed his hand and shook it before I could object. She hopped off her stool and sauntered toward the pool tables, calling over her shoulder, “Come on, let’s get us a free maid.”

By the end of the night, Shane was driving two tipsy women home, Sean was left without his kiss, and I cared a hell of a lot less about Romeo Neretti.

Chapter Five

The time on my phone took me by surprise. It was bad enough that I had to meet with the chick from the Irish family. Hell, I would be late to meet Riona if I didn’t move my ass. I skipped my cool-down and slammed the treadmill to a stop, mopping my face with a towel as I hurried toward the showers. My muscles would scream at me later, but it was better than listening to my father scream and try to put more limitations on my life.

I washed quickly and took a minute to slather lotion all over my body because skincare was important when you showed your naked ass on live video every week. I always kept several clothing options in my office, so I threw on my shorts and took the back hall, avoiding my employees and clients. It didn’t take long to pull on jeans and a black dress shirt, then slip into a pair of black loafers. I donned a matching blazer, shoved my keys, phone, and wallet into my pockets, then raced to my car and made it to the coffee shop only ten minutes late.

It wasn’t hard to spot Riona when I walked into the coffee shop. She sat at a table for two toward the back, her posture perfect as she sipped a cup of coffee and looked at her phone. Her red hair was down in waves again, but today she wore mauve slacks and a pink and white floral top that made her look softer than she had the two times we’d met. It was something my mother would approve of. And much to my dismay, my dick approved of the curves accentuated by her clothing.

Instead of going straight to the table, I ordered coffee to give myself a moment to collect my thoughts. I needed to be nice enough to make Riona think I would comply with whatever she asked, but firm enough not to let her tear my entire life apart.

She looked up when I approached, her face disapproving as she glanced at her phone. “You’re nearly fifteen minutes late.”

“Sorry.” I wasn’t used to apologizing, and the word felt wrong rolling off my tongue. “I was working at the gym. I got here as quickly as I could.”

“Well, I suppose showing up late is better than nothing,” she mumbled into her coffee cup.

I sat and made myself comfortable, carefully sipping the steaming shot of caffeine. “I’m guessing you’ve come prepared with a list of things to discuss.”

“I’m a professional.” Riona lifted a brow and reached into a large purse, producing a tablet she set on the table in front of her. “Let’s go over the preliminary things. I know that your father and Seamus want your behavior to improve, but I want to hear from you before I get into the deep dive of your life.”

I didn’t want anybody that far into my fucking business. Instead of saying it aloud, I let my lips turn at the corners. “Sure. Whatever you need.”

“You’re being awfully compliant today,” she observed warily, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Even her nails were perfectly manicured, the curved edges tipped in precise white crescents.

I quelled the desire to reach out and tousle her hair to see her as flawed and reached for my coffee. There would be nothing left if I kept replacing words with drink. “Maybe I’ve decided it’s worth working with you to see if your fixer magic works.”

“There’s nothing magic about it.” Riona tapped on the screen of her tablet. “And it always works if the client follows my instructions. I have a perfect success rate at reputation improvement.”

“I’d hate to be the one who ruined your flawless track record‌,” I said drily. “How many years have you been doing this? A couple of decades?”

Her eyes widened, and color crept across her cheeks. “How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t know,” I responded dismissively. She looked younger today than at our first meeting when I thought she looked like a teacher or librarian. I vaguely remembered her telling me at the restaurant, but I hadn’t thought I’d need to retain that information. I tried to hit a number that would make her feel better about her age. “You can’t be more than forty.”

“I already told you I’m twenty-seven!” Riona spat vehemently.

“Still older than me,” I said mildly. “I’m twenty-six.”

---