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My head snaps back. When Aidan calls me a slut, it sends a surge of want through my stomach, but Mum’s words hit me like a slap to the face. I wish he was here, but he headed over to the food cart to get us cups of tea, so I’m alone against my parents’ onslaught. I’ve been so stressed about today, nervous about showing my design to the world, worried aboutmy parents seeing the photos. The spanking yesterday only took my mind off things for so long. I was so anxious this morning, I was sick before I left the house.
Turns out my nervousness was well founded.
“It’s not that bad,” I try, but I’m interrupted by Dad’s thundering voice.
“No daughter of mine should be exposed like this! Who the hell will marry you when you share your body like this with the whole male population?”
“It’s just a photo…”
“Where was this taken?” Mum intercepts. “I hope Aidan wasn’t alone with you for this shoot. Oh my, what will Father Murray say?”
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” My heart leaps at the sound of Aidan’s soft timbre. “Caitlin must have got her photogenic side from you, Irene.”
Mum’s spine straightens and despite it all, I fight rolling my eyes.
“Well,” she says, touching her hair. “Guess she had to pick upsomethingfrom me since she didn’t get my… colouring and frame.”
“What do you think, Finbar? I think I got the light just right here.” Aidan steps forward, tilts his head and gestures with his hands. “The orange-pink light indicates the sunset, or rather a young woman with her childhood behind her, on the cusp of adulthood. It will inspire both older teenagers and young adults – as well as older adults who want to appear younger and on trend.”
“It’s… it’s good,” Dad reluctantly agrees. “But it’s not what Keenan Jewellers stand for!”
“What could be more fitting than having the mother andthe daughter of this family company model for its latest collections? That sounds like a family business to me.”
Dad has no comeback to that. “You created these, Caitlin?” he asks, quietly, pointing to the table.
“I did.” My mouth is so dry, I can’t swallow.
He purses his lips, his gaze flicking between the items on the table. “They’re… not bad.”
My heart sinks. That’s not a compliment. I momentarily close my eyes. What if Aidan has got my range all wrong, and they reallyarebad?
“They’re cute… but awfully small,” Mum chimes in, flicking a box with her finger.
I blink rapidly, trying to fight off the tears that threaten.
Aidan sucks in a breath, his fists clenched at his sides. When he goes on to praise Fin’s jewellery and photos – and Mum in them – I know it’s a diversion tactic. I’m forever grateful, and even more grateful when they finally move over to Fin’s stall. I’m exhausted after those few moments.
But I’ve got no time to rest, as the doors have opened. Despite my worries, people stop by our stall, enquiring about the jewellery. I stumble through the first questions, Aidan chipping in whenever needed. Soon my mouth is dry from talking and my cheeks must be permanently red from blushing through the compliments of both the items and the promo photos. Aidan interrupts a few enquiries when the men get a bit too flirty.
There’s finally a small lull and I smile over at Aidan. He grins back. I take a deep breath. The room spins.
“Hey, hey.”
Aidan’s strong hands guide me down to the conference room chair behind me. I wince for a second as my bum stings.
“Oh, dear.” I laugh. “It got a bit much for me there.”
Concerned eyes scan my face. “Do you want painkillers? Another tea?”
“No, I’m fine, and I don’t think I had a chance to drink the first one.”
“It will be cold by now. Here—” He fishes a bottle of water out of a bag, opens it for me and watches closely as I take a few large glugs. Next, he brings out a couple of fruit bars. I force one down, more to show my gratitude for his concern than from being hungry. He always looks after me. It makes me feel so cared for and… loved.
“Thank you.” I hope he can sense my appreciation. I know in my heart that what we have isn’t him helping me seek revenge anymore, it’s a relationship.
Although we haven’t said the words. And Lord only knows how we will ever break the news to my parents. But Aidan will find a way, I’m sure.
“You sit here for a while and I’ll handle the desk. And”—he winks at me—“keep an eye on how many more visitors our stall has than Junior’s.”
