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The rest of the evening was surprisingly pleasant. The Murphy family was a clan in every sense of the word, although they were missing the patriarch, Thomas Murphy, and Nora, the sister who lived in California.
They talked over each other and debated everything right up to the line of argument. They laughed and teased, and once when Declan was annoyed with Nick, even threw food (just a dinner roll, but Alexa hadn’t been able to hold back her laughter when it hit Nick in the side of the head).
True to Elise’s claim, Julia shamelessly fed Chief under the table even after Ronan made it clear he could see what she was doing, and the dog trotted from person to person looking for handouts between Julia's offerings.
They reminisced about things that had happened when they were kids, mostly stories designed to embarrass each other, and argued over the details of shared memories. When the summer sun dropped behind the horizon they were still outside, the plates of food picked over, the lemonade long gone, a third bottle of wine half empty.
Elise lit candles on the table and Declan turned on the patio heaters as Julia nursed the baby. It all felt natural and right, no secrets between them, and Alexa envied their easy, boisterous dynamic, so different from the comfortable, quiet brunches and dinners with her parents.
They asked her easy questions — about her childhood, her parents, her study of law — even though she had no doubt that Ronan had ordered a full background check on her, if not when she’d first visited their offices then definitely after he found out she was seeing Nick.
By the time Ronan poured coffee and served pieces of a cake from one of Alexa’s favorite downtown bakeries, she felt comfortable, safe, almost welcome.
Ronan was friendly, but she read the concern still in his eyes and didn’t blame him for it. Their conversation before dinner had paved the way to an understanding, but she knew she was building an argument, a case that she could be trusted, and arguments as big, as weighty, as this one would take time to build.
She was on her second cup of coffee, feeling full and almost happy, when the conversation around the table stilled. The baby was asleep in a bassinet next to the table, Julia and Ronan holding hands at one end of the table. At the other end, Declan turned a bottle of beer in his hand while Elise picked at a second piece of cake.
Under the table, Nick’s fingers were intertwined with hers, their hands resting on her thigh.
It was Ronan who broke the silence.
“So,” he said, looking from Nick to Alexa, “what are we going to do about Leland Walker?”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “We?”
“You were right,” Ronan said quietly. “I owe you.”
Alexa could only assume the look that passed between the two brothers had something to do with Julia and Elise, with the case Nick had worked to bring Julia’s sister home.
“Alexa wants him out of the picture,” Nick said. “Not for herself, but to protect anyone else Leland might hurt.”
“Why does it sound like you’re about to say ‘but’?” Declan asked.
Nick glanced at Alexa. “He’s under a lot of scrutiny right now. It’s not ideal.”
It was something he hadn’t said to her before, but now that he had, she could see that it was true.
“Nick’s right, but Leland will be under even more scrutiny after the election,” Alexa said. “He’s going to win, and that’s going to mean a lot more security.”
“It’s a quandary,” Ronan mused, rubbing the five o’clock shadow along his jawline. “Ideally, we’d keep him from winning, then hit him when things quiet down.”
“What about the press?” Julia asked.
“That didn’t work out so great for us last time,” Declan said.
Alexa knew they’d tried to flush out the leaders of Manifest by leaking information about their trafficking operations. Manifest had punched back by leaking information about MIS, which was how her office had gotten involved.
“It did,” Julia said. “They just hit us back. But that’s done now. The company’s already being investigated by the AG’s office. How can anyone hurt us with the press now?”
“You have a point,” Nick said.
“So what? We slow down his campaign with an undercover press op, hope he loses the election because of it, then deal with him when he goes back to being just another rich kid?” Declan asked.
“That could work,” Nick said.
“What if it doesn’t slow him down?” Alexa asked. “What if he still wins?”
“Then we’ll move to Plan B,” Declan said, finishing his beer.
