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“Look,” I said quietly. “I just want to make sure you know that no matter what, I’m a Byrne. I’ll always be a Byrne first and foremost.” I’d worried in the back of my mind since this alliance was first brought up that Jimmy and the others might begin to see me as less trustworthy because of my ties to the Italians. I wanted to be sure he knew my Irish roots would always win out.
My godfather clasped his hands on either side of my face and stared deep into my eyes. “You’re a good boy, Conner. I never would have entertained this scenario if I’d had any doubts in you. Understand?”
“Thanks, Jimmy.” A strange warmth spread throughout my chest, then chilled when he continued.
“So is that the reason Mia Genovese wasn’t here tonight? Seemed like she and her husband were a key part of this alliance.”
I grimaced, knowing he was right. “It just felt like too much, too soon. She’s not my mother, Jimmy, and I’m not ready to pretend otherwise.”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “I suppose I can respect that. Alright, Brenna is probably getting pissed in the car. I better get going.”
“Night, Uncle Jimmy.”
“Take it easy, Con.” He waved, leaving me to wander toward the street where I’d parked hours earlier.
Once I was in the driver’s seat, I took my phone out of my pocket and discovered I had a missed call from Mia Genovese. I sighed heavily, then clicked on the missed message and listened to my birth mother’s voice.
“Hi, Conner. It’s Mia. Mia Genovese. Ummm … I was wondering if maybe we could get coffee sometime. I’d really like a chance to talk with you, if you have the time. You know … when it could be just us. If you’re comfortable with that, of course. Anyway, I’m rambling. Just let me know. Okay. Bye.”
That right there was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to meet her in the first place. I had a family. One who had wanted me from the beginning. I didn’t need to suffer through awkward meetups to fill some gaping hole inside me. Meeting her hadn’t changed anything. And I didn’t feel any sense of obligation to indulge her guilty conscience. Her emotional trauma wasn’t my problem.
I closed out of the phone and tossed the irritating device into the cup holder beside me. I had more pressing matters to deal with, like how to get a certain green-eyed temptress out of my head.
I’d be smart to call up one of my regulars and remind myself that all I needed was a good fuck, but I had a feeling I had a cold shower in store for me instead. Such a fucking idiot.
And I only had myself to blame.
Eavesdropping is perfectlyacceptable if your life hangs in the balance. At least, I told myself that while I stood outside my father’s office door, hovering as close as I dared get without jiggling the door. I’d heard Conner arrive minutes before and hurried downstairs the second the office door had closed. The two were discussing the alliance and wedding plans—I couldn’tnotlisten.
“Acceptance hasn’t been an issue, but I think it would be wise to select a neutral site for the ceremony.” The deep melodic current of Conner’s voice flowed like silk. As always, he seemed perfectly at ease.
“Agreed,” my father responded. “I suggest Saint Francis Xavier in Midtown. It’s one of the few large enough to hold both contingencies and isn’t affiliated with any one group. Plus, Midtown gives us the best options for the reception. I don’t want to have to limit our guest list.”
“I can’t imagine the church would be available on such short notice.”
“You let me worry about that.” My father’s voice was tinged with sly mirth. “We agreed on August first, and I see no reason to change it.”
August first? Holy crap!
That was only two short weeks away. I knew things would move quickly now that the engagement had been officially announced, but two weeks was no time at all.
Despite my desire to escape my father’s reach, the prospect of such a life-altering event happening so quickly made my head spin with tendrils of panic. I was so distracted that I was caught off guard when the door swung open, and I stood face-to-face with Umberto.
A fresh wave of heart-pounding terror overtook me.
How could I have forgotten about him? Dad always kept him close, and though the discussion had been taking place comfortably on the far side of the room, I hadn’t accounted for the extra variable. I was too shocked to even improvise an excuse.
Mouth agape and eyes wide, I floundered as all three men stared at me.
“My apologies, Conner. It appears my daughter has forgotten her manners.” My father slowly rose from his desk chair, eyes spitting fire my direction.
Conner’s gaze slid from me to my father ever so briefly before he waved his hand dismissively. “It’s natural for her to be curious,” he said, voice dripping with indifference. “You know women and weddings. I’m glad she’s here, actually. I needed to speak with her. Might as well do that now before I forget.” He stood without waiting for a reply.
“I suppose I have a minute,” Dad clipped, not attempting to mask his disapproval.
Conner continued toward me as though completely oblivious to the warning in my father’s tone. I didn’t buy it for a second. The Irishman knew exactly how fine a line he walked, yet he simply didn’t care.
I backed away from the door, my heart an insistent drum pounding in my ears.
