“Tell me, Ms. Byrne,” Bran placed a ridiculously delicate cough against his palm when all three women looked at him.
“Please, call me Raven.”
Thank God. “Raven, then,” Christ, he sounded like part of theMister Rogers' Neighborhoodcast, “I wondered how the name of your business came about.”
“Oh,” she breathed. Like he’d handed her a life vest, saving her from drowning. Her eyes flipped to his immediately, hope in conversational salvation turning her pale cheeks pink.
Raven was deliriouslyrelieved a talking point had been presented. The silence of breakfast was deflating. How did she answer a question that didn’t needthe long versionbut deserved one? Their parents had been successful academics, professors, published authors, and madly in love. As role models go, none came higher. The pressure to please was neither verbalized to the kids nor quietly hinted at. Even so, it manifested unintentionally within each of their children. Pleasing their parents became a love language for Raven and her sisters.
A thank you for all the love without strings— to parents who emboldened their children to reach for greatness.
Growing up, the girls spent the summers in Ireland with their grandma and grandpa while their parents headed the college’s study abroad program. Their father and his family were extremely close.
Their mother grew up in foster care. Lily Byrne never knew who her father was, but she did know her mother was a Creek Native American that had lived on the Muscogee Nation reservation in Okmulgee, Oklahoma, until she was a teenager. Lily was told that her mother had left her with a neighbor and ran off with her boyfriend. It was later discovered they had both died a few months later of drug overdoses, and over the nextseveral years, her mother’s family had either passed away too or moved to parts unknown. When she married Dad, his family became hers, and she always taught her daughters to stay close. Family was everything.
The Byrne part of their family, and other Irish-born families that had lived in America for years, eventually moved back to Ireland— the many wonders of America not enough to keep them from their native Emerald Isle. Many of those had served in the U.S. Army during WWI and decided to stay in Europe once the War ended, sending for their loved ones to join them later.
Descended from a long line of Irish Catholic immigrants, and the blood of both Oklahoma Choctaw and Creek had always been a great source of pride in their family.
The summers were magical and, without question, the shiniest of bright childhood memories. Not to say that with her and her siblings causing havoc, Nan Byrne could, would, and still did, scare them toward the straight and narrow. County Roscommon would forever be the sisters’ favorite place on earth.
Family heritage should be honored. “Our father’s family is from Ireland, but his ancestor worked the transcontinental railroad after the Great Famine. He eventually settled in Oklahoma and married a Choctaw woman. His descendants eventually moved back to Ireland. Our Nan still lives on the original Byrne land. Our mother was orphaned as a child, but her mother lived for several years on the Muscogee Nation reservation. Her mother was Creek.
“My sisters and I embrace both sides of our heritage with pride,” she smiled, first at the O’Faolains and then toward her sisters, knowing any mention of their parents was special.
“With a last name like O’Faolain, I assume you have family in Ireland?”
“I believe my grandfather,Jonathan O’Faolain, had family from a small fishing village in southern Ireland. Unfortunately, people always think they have years to ask their loved ones questions, and when they pass, you realize how foolish it was to have wasted the time. Our Gran has said she plans on really working on the family’s ancestry. Your story makes me want to dig a little deeper into our history as well.” Smiling at his dad, he added, “I know we come from fishermen, which might explain my father’s infatuation with ponds.” He noticed the Byrne ladies hid smiles. They knew Bran must be teasing his dad about something.
Looking at Raven, or, more accurately, his newest obsession, he asked, “Pat mentioned that all three of you went to design school at OU, and,” he paused as Patrick’s head whipped toward him— he probably thought Bran was about to bring up that his brother had noticed their website’s lack of pictures, “he said you all graduated at the same time. How did that come about?” River and Rowan smiled. Patrick and Dad looked up from their plates, curious as well.
“Oh, well...” Raven began, casting looks at her sisters. “I was born on February 16, the same year River was born on December 20, and Rowan the following year, November 1. So, you see, we are so close in age that River and Rowan chose to do online high school so they could finish much faster than my traditional route.
We all took concurrent college classes too. I didn’t take as many in high school as they did, though. I was able to help them study and still work part-time. Eventually, we took several of the same college classes during their final year. It’s sort ofconvoluted,” Raven chuckled, “but we figured it out and then moved to college at the same time.”
“I’m impressed,” Bran admitted. And he was. They’d known what they wanted and made it happen. A close family. He liked that as he and his family were close. “Should we head back to your office?”
Raven was satisfiedwith the meeting. They had managed to, if not impress the O’Faolains with their knowledge and sensibility, at least proven they understood Wolves’ vision. Being of Irish descent themselves hopefully swayed them a bit. When the girls had told them of their summers spent in Ireland, she could see their interest peak further.
Raven stood first. Everyone was seated in the corner lounge, with information on the pub’s size and location spread before them on the coffee table. “Well, gentlemen, I know you have plans to get to, so we won’t keep you longer. I hope we are still in the running to decorate Wolves after this morning’s debacle,” Raven smiled, internally dying, thinking of it again.
“Of course, you’re in the running,” Bran assured. “We’ll need to discuss amongst ourselves and meet with a few other designers, but I’ll get back to you hopefully within a week.”
Bran and his brother were gorgeous, the shocking white of their hair and all that golden skin— ridiculously handsome. And one would never guess Hugh was their father. Older brother, maybe. She knew once she and her sisters cried themselves sick over this morning’s horror, they’d enjoy comparing notes on the handsome O’Faolains. Raven was about to thank them all for their time when Patrick spoke up.
“Bran would love to see the rest of your building if you have the time. He loves historical sites.”
Raven watched Patrick glance at his brother. Something must have passed between them because Bran agreed, saying, “I have been curious about what you’ve done with the other floors.”
Hugh, Raven noticed, simply crossed his arms over his broad chest with the look of someone attempting to endure.
“Oh, of course! Like River told you earlier, we are free the rest of the day.” Raven glanced at her sisters. “We created a space that is both a comfortable home and work environment.” Proud to show off the space, the girls started their assent up the wide, wooden stairs, the three men following closely on their heels.
Continuing as tour guide, Raven launched into the history of the town and the building’s part in it.
“River focused her talents below in the offices. She’s not only brilliant at design but building websites and handling social media.” She nodded in her sister’s direction as they walked into the open space on the second floor. “So, she naturally knew how she wanted our work area to flow and what made customers feel welcome.”
“I was impressed with your site, River. I’ve built a few myself, and it isn’t easy to make them look good but also be functional.” Patrick’s flattery had River blushing. How hilarious.
