“Y-yeah,” she blushes fiercely, “I was hoping you’d be impressed. I know you gave me this event as a test.” God, she’s too smart for her own good. Even though she’s the innocent one of the bunch, it doesn’t mean she’s dumb.
“I don’t think I told you to prepare all of this today . . . sampling flowers, decorations, or catering,” I murmur quietly, and Delaney deflates a little in uncertainty. Walking around the head of the table, I put a hand on her shoulder, and I smile sympathetically. “I appreciate the effort, but all you had to do was inventory businesses that’d be donating products, Delaney. You didn’t have to do all this.” She’s gone above and beyond, and that’s a great thing.
“Um, well, I did, so,” she blusters, trying to express confidence in her decision. She stands up a bit straighter, and her eyes flash as they meet mine. “I did the inventory too. I emailed it over to you.”
“So you did,” I agree. “You can get started whenever you’re ready.”
Delaney sucks in a sharp breath and stiffens. If I pay close enough attention, I can see her lips tremble with her nerves. Pulling out a chair, I sit and lean back, crossing my legs. For a moment, she’s still, unmoving, and I bring my fingertips against my mouth and wait.
Being a good organizer is only part of the job, but I’m patient as Delaney throws back her shoulders and nods. Resolving herself physically, she huffs softly before grabbing the remote to the projector she must’ve connected her computer to before I showed up.
“So, um,” Delaney starts, and anticipation races through my veins. She clicks the small remote. “First things first. These are all the businesses I’ve talked to and secured products from concerning the charity auction. I’ve stuck to the list you gave me of products that are in line with the theme and went to a few places that have related products.”
“All these are products you’ve secured?” She stares at me blankly for a brief second before nodding. Rushing around the table, she flips through a sheath of papers and hands me a cataloged list.
“Yes. I have a few samples from a few places, but I’m waiting for the rest.” She nods, and I scan the pages under furrowed brows. It’s impressive. The amount of product she managed to secure. Out of the corner of my eye, though, Delaney wrings her fingers before clearing her throat loudly. “I’m. I know your list was refined, but I figured it’d be best to have backups in case someone suddenly drops out. I did make a point to mention that during the meetings. I marked them with a square on the sheet.”
“All right,” I agree, flipping to the second page. “I’m on board so far.”
Exhaling a more stable breath, Delaney nods as the slightest hint of satisfaction and confidence worms onto her face. She points at the projector board and switches slides.
“I’ve got several venues that I talked to, and I looked around the places’ event halls,” Delaney continues, her voice a little more stable. “If you’ll take a look at this . . . this slide, I worked out the cost, as well as adding the discount they’re willing to give us for the use.”
The tables of the spreadsheet are well-organized, and I scan the slide through narrowed eyes. She’s silent, staring at me like a child hoping for a reward, her eyes boring holes into my face. I gesture her to continue, and Delaney stiffens briefly. She’s gone so far above and beyond, and I dig it.
But she’s getting more confident and firmer with each passing word that leaves her mouth.
“Okay, so, I have this,” pausing to grab a thin file, Delaney hands it to me swiftly, “this is a mock-up I made with Photoshop. I haven’t talked to the decorators, but this is just generic stuff off their website. There are four potential event halls that would be the best fits.”
Handing me three more thin files, Delaney clears her throat before continuing. I flip open the pages to find somewhat poorly done prints, and my lips quirk in amusement. “You’ve been pretty busy. Don’t you think it’s a lot of redundant work?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks. I hold up the four folders she’d prepared.
“Out of these four, we’re only using one. Probably one we’ve already used in the past. We usually just use the decor person the venue provides. Don’t you think your efforts should be targeted?” I ask, and Delilah gets that blank look on her face again. “Even though it’s a mighty effort, and you did a great job organizing all of this, you went above and beyond. Sometimes, that’s not as good a thing as it seems, Delaney. I’m not admonishing you, but just something to keep in mind for next time.”
“O-okay. I’ll keep that in mind,” Delaney grumbles, reaching to rub her scalp thoughtfully as she looks around. “Um, okay.”
“Don’t panic, Delaney. You’re doing well. If I’m being honest, you’re doing better than well,” I reassure her. “Keep going.”
“W-well okay. I’m . . . this one,” Delaney stumbles again, and I nod encouragingly. Fumbling through her slides, she switches the remote to her other hand and takes a deep breath. “Um, the donors.”
“Good. You said you’ve added to the list I gave you of interested businesses.” I help her out a little, and Delaney nods before diving through a thick pile of folders. Flipping through the color-coded files, she hands me one of the thicker ones. “I’d like to know about these donors.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
KEENAN
Delaney ran out the door a while ago, saying she had a meeting with Delilah around lunch. Luca and I have been discussing a few things in the library, which is what I’ll be calling this room. After seeing the photos he showed me, I felt revolted. My stomach still churns and my skin burns with the heat of a thousand fires. Luca did tell me he was able to find a contact who works in Cormac’s household, and he paid her off very well to make sure they left for the weekend. She’s been working for Cormac for a very long time, so Luca instructed her to tell the rest of the staff Cormac was giving them the weekend off. That it was a gift from him. From what Luca told me, Cormac gives them time off on occasion, so this made sense to them.
I wish what I saw in those photographs would surprise me, but sadly, it didn’t. It sickened me, yes. It made me question if the man was sane, sure. But what it didn’t do was make me doubt he’d have the ability to do something so cruel. I’ve known Cormac Quigley since I was a child, and he’s only ever been cruel. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt when I was younger, but the moment I was at church and I heard him talking down about my dead mum . . . it struck a chord in me. Still, I was going to keep the peace for Delilah. My love for her means I’d do anything in the world for her, even if it meant putting up with her arse of a father. But, not anymore. One thing I will never accept or tolerate is a man who thrives on harming others, and the photos I saw prove he’s doing just that.
“My contact told me we can park in the alley around back, how there aren’t cameras on this one side. It’s usually used for deliveries to his estate, so we’re in the clear. The door should be open since she was the last one out,” Luca states as he pulls his car off to the side. He puts the SUV in park, unbuckles his seatbelt, and we both exit the vehicle. Our shoes crunch against the gravel underneath us as we walk forward.
I should be nervous, or at least I think I should be. Any normal man would, but I’m no normal man. Luca hasn’t told me everything, but that’s quite all right with me. I figure since we’re here, we’re going to light a fire under Cormac’s arse, and if I have my way, I might just light him on fire. He can be a human candlestick. The fact he’s Delilah’s father doesn’t matter. He’s crossed a line, and now that I’ve witnessed it, I’ll make him pray for death.
Luca and I walk through Cormac’s house, and it’s everything I figured a man like him would live in. It’s old-fashioned Irish decor, with centuries-old touches. As beautiful as the house is, I’m sickened to know he’s the person who lives here. Just being within these walls causes a chill to run over my skin.
“I was told he’d go out for lunch and be back by mid-afternoon. That’ll surely give us enough time to acquaint ourselves with the layout of the house, don’t you think?”
