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“I mean, I never thought about it, but I guess it makes sense. I never had that problem because when you’re a Five Pointer, it’s like you’re more Irish than American anyway.”
I snorted because she wasn’t wrong. Still, her comment pricked my curiosity. “You actually spoke with her? The First Lady, I mean?”
“I did! I danced with the prime minister too.” She twisted to face me better. “She wants me to design a thousand-piece collection, Declan.A thousand.”
“Who the fuck is paying for that?”
She pshawed. “Like you care about where tax money goes. Do you even pay taxes?”
“I pay some.”
“You should be glad it’s going to the arts.”
“I’d prefer to spend that kind of money on a foundation—”
“For art that will never see the light of day like in our bedroom?” Her arched brow and militant stare finally had my dick stirring to life. “Huh?”
I shrugged. “It’s safer there.” Not just for the art I had shielded there, but for her too.
She rolled her eyes as if she could read my mind then said, “She was talking about how Irish families played such an important role in modern America, and because of my ties to Ireland, she was excited to see what I’d come up with.”
Staring at her, I asked, “You mean she wants glassware with a distinctive Irish flair to it? I thought they were supposed to be neutral?”
“I think they’re allowed some free reign when it comes to the china patterns.”
“This is all highly irregular.”
Aela scowled at me. “Since when are you in the know about the East Wing of the White House, Declan.” She tossed her hair. “Anyway, I don’t give a damn if it is or not. I’ll have to hire some staff for this level of work. I’ll need an atelier as well—”
As we drove past the Thomas Jefferson memorial, and onto Rochambeau bridge, I raised a hand to stall her. “I’ll sort that out. Make a list of what you need and I’ll—”
“Declan, I don’t need your help. This is my jam. I know this shit.”
“Youknewthis shit, babe. New York is a crosshatch of territorial lines and disputes just waiting to happen. I need to know where you want a workshop and who you’re hiring so I know you’re safe.”
She was silent a second, then she muttered, “Being associated with the Five Points is a massive pain in the ass.”
“You only just figured that out?”
Peering up at me, Aela asked, “Is this how it’s going to work forever?”
After I pressed a kiss to her temple, I said, “I wish I could say it wasn’t.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry,” I breathed the words into her hair, closing my eyes as I felt the resentment and anger swirling inside her.
“You are?”
I rested my chin on the top of her head. “I really am.”
She released a breath. “Okay, I can deal with it then.”
Surprised, I reared back and blurted out, “Huh?”
“You know there’s a saying about the O’Donnellys, don’t you?”
“That we’re all assholes?” I mocked.
