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His words from yesterday. Of course, I don’t want to hurt my dad, no matter how much he hurts me. I was raised to believe in forgiveness and good deeds. But Aidan’s words did ignite a spark somewhere in me, the same as the sparks his finger created on my skin. It felt good and… forbidden.
My cheeks burn at the memory, and I rush past Aidan’s office and down the corridor. I shouldn’t have let him touch me like that or stand so close. Mum would be horrified if she knew! Yet all evening, I tried to recreate the look in his eyes in my sketchbook, the look that caused a strange stirring low in my belly.
Like yesterday, Dad’s door is open. I suck in a sharp breath and slow my steps at seeing Aidan standing there, in Dad’s office. I steel myself, trying to steady my heartbeat. His broad shoulders are covered in a white shirt, rolled up at the elbows. His fists are clenched, highlighting every sinew and muscle on his forearms. DaVinci would have a field day using Aidan as his model. I would too… Not that the nuns running the arts classes at my college would ever arrange a nude study. I withhold a giggle picturing old Sister Helena next to a naked man.
Wait, why are Aidan’s fists clenched? And his tall posture is strangely stiff.
Words filter through the door. At first, I don’t grasp their meaning, but then, they are all I hear.
“Fin will officially be an owner of the company. My lawyer will draw up the papers, signing over parts of my share. Fin will own twenty percent of Keenan Jewellers.”
The fluttering in my tummy dies, just like at the butterfly farm. I had whispered back then for Mum to take a picture. Barely daring to breathe, I stood there, completely still, until Iwasn’t. The hard push to my back sent me flying, but instead of up in the air, I crashed to the ground. Killed one of the great blues. Sprained my wrist.
Despite pushing me, it was Fin’s whining that made them stay to finish the tour of the farm, while I sat in the car for an hour, crying, before we drove to the hospital.
“We should have discussed this, Finbar.” Aidan growls through gritted teeth. “You’re bringing in a new owner to the company without consulting me first.”
“I don’t need to consult you on matters that don’t concern you.”
“Don’t concern me?”
“It doesn’t concern you what I do with my share of the company. But yes, it will concern you going forward I guess, as Fin, with his twenty percent, will have a say in the decisions made.”
“What percentage do I get?”
The room goes eerily quiet as three pairs of eyes turn my way. But all I can see is my dad.
“Caitlin, what are you doing here?”
“You told me to come in to show you my designs.”
“Not this again, Caitlin,” he huffs and runs a hand through his thinning hair.
“Dad, are you giving part of the company to Fin?”
“Well, he’s my heir, it’s only right.”
Theheir.I’m not street smart, as Dad says, but even I know you don’t normally use such terms anymore.
“I’m your heir too.” My breath hitches. “You know I’ve always wanted to join the company.”
That nerve under Dad’s eye is twitching again, and I brace myself for whatever he’s got for me. “Caitlin, you’re a girl. Youmay have an interest now, but when you’re married and have kids, the only jewellery you’ll care about is what your husband gives you for your birthday.”
My brother chuckles from the window seat, as smug as I’ve ever seen him. I want to yell and scream, but nothing comes past the lump in my throat.
“Finbar…” I close my eyes hearing Aidan’s voice, mortified that he’s witnessed this. “It wouldn’t look good for the company if you’re portrayed as a misogynist.”
“I’m not a misogynist,” Dad barks, his back straightening.
Aidan tilts his head to the side. “Well, foregoing your daughter may be viewed that way.”
My heart thumps in my chest. I’m not used to anyone taking my side, although this is a very strange way of supporting me.
Dad shifts in his seat, his gaze flicking but never landing on me. “It’s just that… well, uh, Fin is the heir, um, the firstborn, and… she’s not yet able to give to the company, whereas Fin has training and—”
Aidan interrupts with insistency coating his tone. “People talk, it could reflect badly on you as a person, Finbar.”
“Well…” Redness rises up Dad’s neck and his fingers turn white around the wooden handle of his letter opener. If I wasn’t so distraught by this whole situation, I’d be tempted to laugh. Aidan must be aware that Dad’s biggest sin is vanity – he wants to be the main man, the one that people admire.
