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She chuckled. “I’m not talking about a billionaire mogul entertaining himself.”
“Sweetheart, about that—”
“I’m twenty-five, not ten. I’ve definitely figured out you’re a bit of a manwhore.”
“I would not put it that way. I’m more of a rogue, perhaps a cad.”
“Or just too easy,” Symone shot back. “Seriously, though. It’s no wonder you’re lonely.”
“Really?”
“You have flings, but they don’t matter. If you want something that feels real, Dad, then it has to be real. It has to have risk. I mean, Damon and I…”
Shaking my head, I pushed my plate away. “Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard enough for me to accept you dating. I don’t need to hear about magical connections with your fiancé.”
“Maybe you do. Dad, I miss Mom too, but she wouldn’t want you to be alone. You have a choice to always play it safe and shallow or to look for something more, to chase a real connection. It’s up to you, but whatever you decide, you know I’ll support you.”
Sighing, I picked up my napkin and dabbed at the corners of my mouth. “Thank you. Your old dad appreciates it.”
“Thank me by really putting yourself out there. I can’t be a happy bride, not really, if I feel like I’m leaving you all alone to fend for yourself.”
“I’m supposed to take care of you.” I stood and circled the table. Then I gathered her up in my arms. “You don’t have to keep yourself back cause your dad’s just spacey lately.”
Symone pulled away from me and stood. “Just promise you’ll think about looking for that special someone. I want to know you’re trying to be happy.”
“Trust me, kiddo, I am.”
***
The next day, I dragged into the office with a hangover and a foul mood. I had a ton of research to do to find a new best bid option and a way to expand my holdings into more commercial retail in the city. As far as my buildings in Dublin went, I mostly owned warehouses and structures that housed tech firms. I wanted to get into malls and other shopping complexes. Donelson would have done that, but it was like both Symone and even Seamus had pointed out: I had to get back up on my feet. Of course, it would help if it didn’t feel like a railroad spike was being pounded into my skull.
I pressed the intercom and barked into it. Usually, I’d be nicer for my secretary, Frances, but I was dying in my chair. “What do I pay you for? Get me an aspirin and some Alka-Seltzer. Double time it, luv.”
Groaning to myself, I leaned back in my chair and rubbed at my temples. I might have tied quite a few on after getting back home to my penthouse. Being lonely didn’t suit me, and my usual tricks—and girls—to distract me weren’t working any longer. It didn’t seem like pint after pint of Guinness was a better substitute. The door yanked open, and a too loud voice rang out.
“I’m sorry, sir. It’s my first day.”
I frowned as I opened my eyes. The voice was all wrong, far younger than Frances, but also an American. Where the fuck had I gotten an American secretary from? I sat up in my chair and stared at the girl. “Who are you?”
She swallowed hard and then stumbled on her heels, sending the bottle of aspirin and the glass of Alka-Seltzer fizzy water clattering to the floor. I swore under my breath, but she was practically in tears, getting to her knees right away and slipping off her cardigan to mop up the mess on my expensive carpet.
“I’m so sorry. God, this is my first day, and I was doing the first errand Mrs. McCabe trusted me with. I didn’t mean to do this. I…”
Normally, I never tolerated anything less than utter excellence from my staff. I strove for perfection, and everyone around me better damn well do the same. Any other time, I think I would have snapped at her and forced her to turn over her ID badge and leave the building. But I’ll be fully honest. Then I caught sight of her rounded ass straining under the tight fabric of her skirt. My dick sprung to life and, for the first time in weeks, I actually gave a damn about a woman in my presence. I can’t even explain why. This girl couldn’t have been more than twenty-two, and her curves were a bit more than I cared for in my women. As she hopped to her feet and bowed her head in front of me—probably expecting her own dismissal—I also noted how short she was. As I stepped around the desk to face her, the lass barely came up to my chest.
Again, totally not my type.
And yet, there was something there I couldn’t ignore. Something primal springing between us.
Tears coated the girl’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Mr. O’Brien, I’ll see myself out.”
I paused and surprised myself by stroking her cheek. Brown eyes the color of a steaming cup of coffee evaluated me, and skin so smooth it was almost like velvet greeted my touch. “No, you don’t have to leave.”
She swallowed and stared more deeply into my eyes. “I don’t understand. I ruined your carpet.”
“I think the seltzer mixture is clear. I’m sure it’ll come out.”
“But I’m a klutz.”
