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Did he think I didn’t deserve to know? Was he hiding other things from me? Why wouldn’t he have mentioned that he knew my mother? Why conceal that?
I pulled my knees into my chest and stared at her smiling face. I traced a finger down the length of her hair. Her smile was radiant. The three of them had been happy together. Had this been back in Ireland?
Then something hit me. Maybe he wasn’t telling me because he didn’t think of me as a grown woman after all. He’d never said anything about being with anyone else, but he was a handsome man. He’d have no problem bringing any girl home that he wanted, so why me? Was I just some temporary fling that was going to end the moment my sentence was over? Or was it that he thought of me like an unruly teenager who he needed to set straight? Was I just a little girl to him, someone to look after and punish when I did something bad?
I didn’t know the answer.
My mouth set in a firm line as I sat back on my heels. I know I’d messed up when I’d taken Rico’s dare. I’d screwed up big time, but I wasn’t out to break the law on a regular basis. Sure, I’d shoplifted from time to time, but that didn’t hurt anyone other than the rich CEOs that profited off the ridiculously high price tags that came with designer clothing.
Before Cormac, I’d been the one taking care of myself. I’d gotten myself through high school all on my own when my father had wasted his life in a bottle. I stood up, leaving the drawer wide open. Taking the picture with me, I wandered downstairs and turned on a movie, but I couldn’t focus enough to pay attention to the story. Lost in my own thoughts, I rolled the clock back, thinking over our every interaction, from the first time he knocked on my door to when he walked out of the kitchen this morning.
I knew several things. He was powerful and filthy rich, yet kindhearted. At times, he could be sweet, which was in sharp contrast to the man that he’d first presented to me in the judge’s chambers. All these things seemed to sour when I focused on the fact that he’d kept knowing my mother a secret from me. The hours passed by miserably slowly. When it passed six, I heard the door open, and I quickly shoved the picture under a throw pillow on the couch.
He grinned as soon as he saw me. There was a pizza box balanced on his shoulder and I forced myself to smile in return. He slid it onto the coffee table and flipped it open, showing off a meat lovers pizza complete with pepperoni, sausage, prosciutto, and these adorable little meatballs. Even with my uneasiness, I had to admit the aroma was heavenly.
“This is from the best pizza joint here in Southie, maybe all of Boston, really,” he exclaimed.
“I can’t wait,” I said softly, and his gaze immediately flicked to mine.
Not wanting his full attention yet, I leaned for and grabbed a slice. My stomach growled just as I took a bite. He chuckled as the both of us dug in. I ate two slices before I finally cleared my throat. I needed to say something, and it couldn’t wait any longer. I wouldn’t be able to get it off my mind until I got some answers.
“Cormac?”
“Hmmm?” he murmured while still chewing a bite of pizza.
“You never told me you knew my mother,” I began.
For a moment, I stared at the floor until I bravely lifted my eyes to his. It was almost like a dark storm had suddenly overtaken him and he looked away. He didn’t say anything right away, so I decided to continue. Reaching underneath the pillow, I pulled the photograph out.
“You knew her, but you didn’t mention her. Why would you hide that from me?”
“That’s a story for another time,” he answered tersely.
His expression was harsh and unfeeling, and I struggled not to wither right there in front of him. I took a deep breath but remained calm. Yelling and getting angry would be of no use for something like this. Him keeping secrets made me feel uneasy, but there had to be some sort of explanation that would make sense.
“Who are you to me, Cormac? How are you and my parents connected? And if you were such good friends, why did I never meet you? Why did he never mention you?”
His icy blue eyes rolled with turbulent gray swells, and he refused to meet my gaze. I could have sworn something that looked like guilt passed over him, maybe a regretful sorrow, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had come that I might have just imagined it.
“Not yet, Caitlin,” he refused.
“She was my mother. I deserve to know,” I pressed.
What made the situation feel worse was that I hardly remembered anything about her. This man had known her really well by the looks of it. If he would just open up to me, it could be like I was getting to know a part of myself that I’d lost long ago when she died.
“I know you do, but it’s not the right time yet,” he answered, his tone non-negotiable.
“When will it be the right time?”
He shook his head and grabbed another slice of pizza. I did the same, waiting for him to say something, anything really, but he never did. Instead, the two of us ate in silence before he stood up and mumbled something about needing to make a few business calls. His entire body radiated with tension, and it only amplified my own uneasiness.
“Do you still want to watch a movie?” I tried.
“Another night,” he muttered, and I stared at his back as he climbed the stairs and retreated to his office.
This was a side of him I hadn’t seen before. I blinked back tears and wrapped my arms around my knees, staring down at the picture. The three happy faces looked back at me, and I wished they could tell me their story. With a sigh, I stood up, grabbed the picture, tucked my phone into my pocket, and walked over to the coat closet. I slipped my feet into one of the pairs of flats inside and shrugged on my coat.
I needed to clear my head and the best thing I could do right now was to take a walk.
