Page 70 of Of Grief And Gratitude

The hamburger was perfectly cooked when I bit into it, sighing happily. “Okay, you can keep your testicles today.”

“Benevolent of you.” Sean’s phone rang, and he fished it out of his pocket before answering and walking toward the bar to take the call.

“If you ever fuck him, I may not be able to forgive you,” Sloane said between bites of fry.

I shook my head. “No danger there. Your brothers have blurry spots as far as I’m concerned.”

“Still hung up on the mafia baby boy, huh?” She finished the last of her whiskey and shook the glass in the air until Sean noticed and snagged the bottle from behind the bar.

“I’m not hung up on anybody,” I protested. I hadn’t seen Romeo since the day of his mother’s funeral, and he’d only talked to me long enough to offer drunken proof of life. “Romeo just lost his mother. He’s taking it hard.”

“It’s not your job to fix him,” Sloane said, pointing a fry at me. She frowned at Sean when he approached without the bottle. “Terrible customer service.”

“Pay, and I might consider listening to your constructive criticism,” he shot back. “Da wants us at the house.”

“I can find my own way home,” I offered, stuffing another fry in my mouth.

Sean’s palm landed on my shoulder. “He wants you there, too.”

“Not again,” I muttered, looking longingly at my sliders. “Can we finish our food, at least?”

Snagging a fry off his sister’s plate, Sean grinned and narrowly avoided Sloane’s fist. “Don’t see why not.”

I took my time, chewing each bite thoroughly enough that my jaw got sore because I wasn’t looking forward to facing Seamus again. None of the O’Connors were present for the scene at Antonella’s graveside service, but I knew it wouldn’t take long for word about Ettore’s anger to get back to them. The thought of letting them down made the burgers sit heavily in my stomach.

Sean drove us to the O’Connor residence, blasting country music. Sloane reached to change the radio station, but her brother batted her hand away. “If you want to control the music, you drive your car.”

“Come on,” Sloane whined, failing to get past his hand. “You can’t be serious about country music.”

“I found I like it more than I thought.” Sean smiled wistfully and cranked up the volume, filling the car with twanging guitar and the quick beat of drums.

Sloane murmured something about her brother having lost his mind, but the loud music forced us to sit quietly for the remainder of the ride. I had plenty of time to get worked up about what Seamus had to talk to me about. In the end, I hoped it was another job opportunity with the family, not an admonishment for blowing the job for the Nerettis.

“Come on, red.” Sean held my door open, and I wondered how long I’d been sitting frozen in place after he’d parked. I took his outstretched hand and slid out of the back seat, hurrying to catch up to Sloane.

I felt underdressed in my distressed jeans and a baggy black t-shirt that I’d twisted and tucked into the waistband of my jeans. My leather jacket was the nicest item I wore. As we walked through the house, I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and twisted it into a bun that hopefully looked a little more professional.

Seamus and Shane stood by the window in the office, talking too quietly to be overheard. When they saw us enter, Seamus’ face split into a forced grin, and he motioned toward the seats. “Take a seat.”

“Riona.” Shane took the seat next to mine and angled it to face me more. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” I answered noncommittally, crossing my legs and clenching my thighs.

“You sure?” he didn’t look like he believed me, and even Sloane looked doubtful.

“I heard from Dante,” Seamus explained, dropping heavily into his chair. He looked tired, his shirt and khakis rumpled. “He let me know yer services will no longer be needed.”

I nodded, clenching my teeth until my jaw ached.

“Care to tell us what happened?” Shane asked casually. His fingers tapping on the arm of his chair betrayed the calm exterior.

“How bad is it?” Sloane interrupted before I could answer.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shane said, waving her concern off.

Sloane jumped to her feet, her sneakers touching her older brother’s shoes. “Don’t brush me off. Riona and I deserve to know what’s going on.”

“Sit down, lass.” Seamus sighed. “Everybody is fine.”

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