I swore under my breath, then flashed a smile at an elderly lady who looked shocked by my language. “Death in the family,” I informed her. “Terrible situation.” Then, back to Liam: “Do you think he’s won anyone over?”
“Hard to say. I don’t, however, think that’s the most important question.”
I frowned, though he couldn’t see me. “Don’t do that. It’s already been decided.”
“And I’m going to keep asking about it until you stop giving me these bullshit passive answers. Ro, you’ve never in your life wanted to be in charge. Do you really want CEO now?”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “I know I don’t want Owen to have it.”
“Yeah, but doyouwant it?”
It was a worthy question. Being CEO of Blackguard meant becoming the public face of a company that had always been happy to keep me in the shadows doing its dirty work. I had learned early how to escape accountability rather than facing, starting with blaming Owen for spilled milk when I was four and he was eight.
But people change.
It was a cliché, but it had never felt more true. Especially as I spotted Laney entering the tent. She moved in her calm way, stopped every so often by an aunt or a relative or one of Megan’sfriends, and she looked every one of them in the eye, offered a warm, genuine smile and a kind touch before moving on to the next.
She was well-liked by these people. That was obvious.
And way too good for someone like me.
Her face lit up when she found me, different from the courtesy she offered everyone else. Like she was happy to see me, yes, but even more that she was proud that I was there for her.
I liked it.
I liked it a lot.
“I want it enough to try,” I told Liam, though I wasn’t entirely sure what “it” meant in that moment.
That was enough to appease him. For now.
“Well, then, you should probably get your bride on board and get back here. Niall is already planning a reception to introduce her.”
At the mention of my father, something in me withered. Laney was making her way across the reception floor, and suddenly, I wanted to keep my family and all its ugliness as far away from her as possible.
“Liam, I gotta go.”
“But, Ronan, we should?—”
“I’ll see you in Boston.” I ended the call, slid my phone into my jacket pocket, and was about to make my way to my girl when I was interrupted.
“You look like you could use a real drink.”
I turned to find Derek standing behind me with two martinis, all trussed up in his tuxedo like he was James fucking Bond.
Please. Bond would steal this guy’s girl and put a bullet in his head before breakfast.
I glanced at the drink. “I’m good. It usually scotch neat for me. Or a well-timed shot.”
“Consider it a goodwill gesture.”
Eyes narrowed, I accepted the martini but didn’t take a sip. Not that I thought there was anything in it; I just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
What can I say? I could be a petty bastard.
“I never said congratulations last night.” He put his hand out to shake mine.
It was cold and a little too tight. Like he was nervous, or else trying to show me who was boss.
