“Yeah, you know her?”
“I do. We went to Andover together back in the day. She was a few years ahead of me, and Owen actually took her to prom, if you can imagine it.”
Across the room, Mac’s brows lifted slightly. Even he couldn’t hide his shock at the idea of Owen the Raincloud attending something as bright and cheery as a school dance.
“Now she writes for The Globe,” I said. “But Owen hates the press.”
“Well, not this one, apparently.”
It didn’t make sense. Owen didn’t date, he didn’t talk about his past, and he really didn’t like opening our family to attacks from the press. It was why he was always getting on me about how my personal life affected our reputation.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered. “He really is pathetic. Hasn’t had a personal life in fifteen fucking years, so he literally contacted the one girl he’s seen more than once just to show me up.”
“You think that’s what it is?”
“Has to be.” My brother was the most vindictive son of a bitch on the planet, and he’d been stewing in jealousy soup ever since Brendan nominated me for CEO. There was no other explanation.
“Well, then, I guess you and Laney have to bring it tonight, don’t you?” Liam said. “Is she ready to enter the lion's den?”
“I couldn’t say. I haven’t told her.”
“What?” Liam’s shock was loud enough that once again, Mac looked up from his book.
They were opening the doors of the jet now. Finally.
“No point in stressing her out before she gets here,” I said, already in a hurry to end the conversation. “She’s good on the fly, I promise.”
“Ronan, she better be. Otherwise, you’re going to traumatize the girl.”
“She’ll be fine,” I replied. “She’s great. You’ll see.”
“Good, because I have it on good authority that you can’t fuck this up. Mother’s orders and mine.”
“Why does it matter so much to you two?” I had to ask. “Your paychecks will get signed no matter what. No one can run this company without Liza.”
There was a brief pause, and then Liam’s answer was quick, but a bit quieter, like he didn’t want anyone to hear. “Aside from the fact that my mother and I are the only two who know this marriage is kind of fake and that Niall would murder us both if he knew?”
“It’s not fake—” I started to hiss, conscious that any of the people in the lounge could potentially hear me.
Liam, however, just snorted again. “Fine, fine. Then how about because you’re my boy, dickhead. If I have to work for any of the Blacks, obviously I’d rather it was you.”
Well, then. I straightened. “I suppose that’s good enough for me.”
“Better be. Now, get your girl and don’t fuck this up.”
“On it.”
I ended the call just as Laney’s petite form appeared at the top of the stairs.
God, she looked pretty. Even from fifty yards away, she was a dream in loose jeans, a fitted sweater, her dark hair tossed on top of her head in that sleepy way that already made her look like she’d just had a very good time.
Apparently, I had a weak spot for the “just got reamed, don’t care who knows it” aesthetic.
“Ariadne,” I murmured, then started for the exit.
Mac dropped his book. “Ronan, wait.”
“Fuck off, Mac Daddy. I’m just going to welcome my wife.” I was already reaching for the doorknob.
