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There’s a twinkle in his eyes now that makes them shine to near orbs of Heavenly light, and I find myself crying for no apparent reason. I cup his face and take a good look. This face, when he looks like this, this is when I love him the most. There is a purity and innocence that surpasses mortal beings, and my world has stopped spinning, just taking him in. I love this man . . . to the day I die, I love this man.
“Can I . . . be a part of your project too?" He whimpers, pulling me closer.
An ethereal warmth floods through me, and I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You have to stop this, Liam . . .” I cry in a small voice as I continue to kiss him. “I can’t love you anymore. . . my tank is full and overflowing."
His smile is tender, his eyes shimmering with something akin to a celestial light.
"Let's do both together as joint ventures," Liam says suddenly, the excitement of this new epiphany palpable in his voice. "We could go to Africa and make these dreams a reality together."
“We could start with your project, and then while we are on the ground, you could take on the solar power project under a new initiative. As long as it is not presented as reparations, my father and his cronies shouldn’t care . . . they shouldn’t give a damn.”
I nod, already picturing the adventure before us, our shared passion fueling a future where we could truly make a difference—a partnership not just made in our hearts but in our legacy.
"Your vision, my darling," I venture out tentatively like a new partner would, "Is grand and noble, but isn't it better to start small? Africa is so big . . . maybe that is why you were encountering a lot of initial setup problems. Africa is vast and varied. Each region will come with its own set of challenges. Why not take one region, plan, justify, and then execute.
“Use each finished project as a learning tool to find out how you can do the next region better and more cost-effectively. How do you eat an elephant, my love?" I test these new waters of potential partnership carefully.
“One bite at a time.”
"Exactly," I confirm, a plan forming in my mind. "You could avoid delays, nasty surprises, and costly mistakes by tackling this goliath of a project one square mile of Africa at a time."
"Tony," Lian looks at me squarely in the eyes, his gaze intense, "what would you say about being my new project manager?"
"Me?" I'm taken aback. "What happened to your old one?"
“Martin?” Liam shrugs, his ease slipping away for a moment. "Something about him just . . . doesn’t quite compute for me, but I can’t put a finger to it. On the surface, he really comes across as a standup guy, but there is something about him that, every once in a while, makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand erectfor no reason, you know! Prison has a way of changing how you read people."
“Oh, babe. I know this horrible thing happened to you, my darling, and it is so unfair, and I don’t want to minimize it, but I hurt each time you mention your stay in prison. I was wondering—”
“Say no more.” Liam pulls me in for a long, gentle, passionate kiss, his kiss speaking a language of passion, promise, and a shared purpose that will carry us across continents; across millennia, if this union is God ordained, as I sure hope it is.
Chapter forty-two
THE INVESTIGATION’S PRELIMINARY REPORT.
LIAM
My phone buzzes in my hand, the screen lighting up with Father O'Malley's name, and my heart flutters. Father O’Malley and I have been talking a lot lately, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying that we are casual friends who just drop on each other to shoot the breeze. Seeing his name across the LCD on my phone interface signifies only one thing. Information sharing or update. Since I am in hiding, Father O’Malley graciously offered to be my point person in Miami and my conduit to the investigation. With a sense of urgency, I swipe the green button to answer.
"Good news, Liam!" Father O’Malley exclaims, as soon as we are connected, barely holding back his excitement. "I have a report from Sarah. Following their lead, the police have apprehended a traitor—a Mr. Rothwell, your technical engineer. He was caught with a wealth of incriminating evidence."
“No. No way. This can’t be right,” I turn and say to Tony, who is working on something on her phone as I work at my desk in the den. “Come, baby. Listen with me.”
“Father O’Malley, before we get started, there is someone here who would like to say hello. I will put you on speaker, so we all chat together freely.”
Tony says hello, and they spend the next couple of minutes exchanging pleasantries and updating each other on what’s happening in their lives.
That done, I take back the reigns and ask Father O’Malley to continue.
“Before I do that, may I venture into asking how restrained or unrestrained I ought to be?” Father O’Malley asks, and it is understandable where his confusion is coming from. We used to be adversaries. We are now friends. . . much more than friends, but Father O’Malley doesn’t know that. He is the only person I could ever trust with a secret, and I am happy to share it with him, but I need to check with Tony. I put the phone on mute and then ask,
“Honey, what should we do with our relationship? Should we tell Father O, or do you want to keep it a secret? I will do whatever is good for you.”
“I don’t mind if he knows. He will have to know at some point when you marry me.” Tony says coyly, and my heart does a somersault just hearing those words.
“Did you just propose to me, you wench?” I say playfully, stealing a kiss before bringing Father O’Malley back into our lives.
“Sorry about that, Father. I needed to get permission first before telling you this. Tony and I are together—”
