“In a way. At least it wasn’t me this time. No, I think she might’ve . . . lost the plot. You should’ve seen her face when I told her that I didn’t consider my brother’s sniveling ex-fiancée a family member. It threw me, seeing her in my hotel earlier. I’m sure my mother knows this, but she’s tried to sleep with all of us at some point, probably hoping to bag the good life,” I’m tentative to give too many details or talk about Ulla too much. Delaney’s having trouble with her own love life, She definitely doesn’t need to hear about the mental break Ulla’s going through after Hans’ murder and losing her child. I almost feel bad, making her out to be this one-dimensional slut . . . until I remember that’s what she was for the last two years. Until my mother dug her claws into her. “Anyway, I won’t drag you down with the details. She doesn’t deserve the fanfare, anyway. I know it’s late, so I wasn’t sure if I should text you, but I’m glad I did, love.”
“I’m glad you did, too, Baron.” Trailing off, Delaney clears her throat ominously, and my breath hitches. “I’m going to stay the week out, I think, and be back on Saturday. There’s . . . something we need . . . to talk about.”
“Yeah? Alright,” I agree even as questions beat against the backs of my eyes. “Speaking of Saturday, your assistant is going to be covering that event. Tom told me how relieved he is that the plan worked.”
“Plan? That wasn’t a plan. You’re just saying that to make me feel better. I can’t see how dropping into the volcano with only you and Tom to help her is a real plan, Baron,” Delaney chides, but I can hear the smile in her tone. I chuckle, leaning back on my arm to nod even though she can’t see me.
“You got me. It’s so you can feel better, but yes, I do think this was a good way to test Jennifer. You’re not someone who can afford or would want to hand-hold someone through a job,” I say fondly, and Delaney’s heat radiated through my phone line. Or . . . am I imagining that, too? She’s got me twisted up inside. “I’ll let you go for tonight, love. Tomorrow, I have an important meeting with a potential investor, and I’m sure you’re tired from fighting your own battle.”
“Baron,” Delaney breathes softly, hoarsely, and the hairs on my neck bristle wildly. Holding my breath, fire races through my veins. “I . . . will see you on Saturday.”
“Now that sounds like a wonderful plan, Delaney,” I reply fondly before she hangs up on me, and I watch my phone screen darken and then eventually blacken. My chest tightens. “I hate keeping things from her. She’ll figure out my mother’s dirty laundry eventually . . . and she worked for that prick, Cormac Quigley, even if only a few times in a limited capacity. I wonder . . . how deeply involved in the muck Delaney truly is?”
CHAPTER8
DELANEY
“You did it again,” Bran says, looking down at me from the elevated entryway to his flat. I tighten my grip on my bag, my mind sluggish and dazzled from seeing him up close for the first time in months. So much has happened to me. I wonder if Bran even recognizes me? But his smile is friendly and warm, and a strange tightness grips my body. “I was going to pick you up, but you came hours early, Delaney. I’m starting to think you’re ditching me on purpose, aye?”
“Can I come in?” I ask, ignoring the banter, and Bran’s smile deflates before he nods. Taking the short stairway, I look around at the neighborhood, the line of multi-story flats, all the same, stretching until I can’t see anymore. “It’s a nice neighborhood.”
“Luna picked this flat. She liked the style,” Bran reveals, his smile picking up and brightening his eyes. “She’s gone to the store, but she’ll be back in an hour or two. How was Switzerland, Delaney? I admit I was surprised when you told me you were going back. I nearly chartered an emergency boat to get across the Channel when I got your text.” I reach out and softly pat his shoulder in comfort. Bran is the one person in my family I can say without a doubt loves me. I can’t imagine how worried he must have been when he heard I needed to go back to my therapist. I didn’t even think of it at the time.
“You remember, the day before Delaney’s graduation, I told you about that guy that approached me at the airport and offered me a job?” I ask cautiously as Bran leads me into the kitchen. Everything’s covered in a thin layer of dust, but I ignore it to sit at the small island. The bar stool creaks in protest, barely being used, and Bran looks over at me and nods. “Well . . . I took the job. And I’m doing well. I’ve always been good at event coordinating. You, of course, remember the ones I worked for Delilah.”
“Of course. How could I forget when you just burst with happiness and confidence every time I saw you?” Bran asks, but he obviously doesn’t expect an answer. I blush fiercely, waving at him as I brace my forearms on the cold tiles of the island.
“Aye, so that’s what I’ve been doing the last few months, and it’s been . . . a blessing, really. I love what I do, but also, it keeps me busy. And Delilah was a fine boss, but the man I’m working for now very much cares about his employees in a way she didn’t,” I trail off as Bran looks at me with interest raising his brows. “Not to say she’s heartless, but . . . she was kinda cold, a bit, toward the end there. Understandably, I suppose, but her shutting down the charity without any warning and leaving so many people without a dime or time to find new jobs with Cormac lingering all over them.”
“I know what you mean, Delaney,” Bran cuts me off before I can ramble too much, and he gestures with a wave of his hand. “So, you like your boss a lot more?”
“I do,” I agree quickly. “He basically offered me anything I wanted, and I figured . . . if he knew about the work I’d done for Cormac and was just going to offer me a job on the fly, why not try it out? And it’s been wonderful. The hotel is beautiful, and I even have a small team that works directly under me to set up the venue before the vendors arrive. I—he even made me get an assistant.” I feel the surprising pain of my cheeks stretching from a too-wide smile. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to just feel happiness like this.
“Ah, the student has become the master, huh?” Bran jokes with a chuckle, and I roll my eyes with a grin of my own. “I remember you just going and going and not stopping, Delaney. It was worrisome! An assistant will help a lot with the business of mundane tasks. I know, under Delilah, so much of your job was on the phone or zipping around Dublin to meet with people.”
“Now, they have to come to me, so one problem down,” I nod, satisfied, and my brother’s smile widens. “Since it’s a boutique hotel, there are a few vendors that we have standing contracts with. Of course, they’re optional, and people are invited to use their own if they’re adamant about it . . . but that’s not a guarantee. At least with our vendors, the clients can trust the vendors won’t fuck them over.”
“Like the florist?” Bran asks knowingly.
“Like the florist,” I agree. “That party is celebrating their nuptials tomorrow. I came back early because my assistant was basically dropped into a war zone. My boss said it was because I don’t want to hold her hand to do this job, and he’s right . . . but he’s also blowing smoke out of his arse.” Laughing as the memory of that phone call rings in my ears, I lick my lips heavily.
Baron doesn’t know I flew back early. Just a few hours early, but still . . . I don’t know if I can face him yet. Glancing at my brother warily, the air becomes chilly against my skin.
“I’m pregnant,” I mumble, and Bran nods and grabs the refrigerator door before doing a double take. He sucks in a sharp breath that lashes my cheek, and his eyes nearly boggle from their sockets. I wince, ducking my head, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. “Please don’t be mad!”
“Y-you . . . yo-you’re p-pre–” Sputtering wildly, Bran stumbles backward into the refrigerator with a horrible thud. “P-pregnant! Y-you? How? When? What! Delaney, how can you be p-pregnant?”
“I’m almost two months along. I found out a week and a half ago. That’s why I went to Switzerland,” I reveal smally, shrinking on my stool under Bran’s wild, alarmed gaze. “I-I’m still coming to terms with it, myself. I just had to tell someone. It hurts, keeping it in.”
“B-but how? I didn’t . . . even know you were in a relationship?” Bran sounds shocked but not saddened. Upset, but not upset with me. Rubbing his face with both his hands, my brother groans gutturally. “Is it someone at your hotel? You didn’t take precautions, Delaney?”
“We did, but something must’ve happened, and neither of us noticed at the time,” I answer truthfully while Bran covers his mouth to hide his grimace. “His name’s Baron. He’s my boss.”
“Your boss,” Bran mutters in horror before clearing his throat roughly and shaking his head. He slaps his cheeks hard, and I flinch at the sound that reverberates through the entire kitchen. “W-what about you? Are you okay with this? You trust this guy? Is he a good guy? Do you want me to kick his arse?”
“What? No, why would do you that?” I ask in alarm, looking at him through wide eyes. He flails his arms around in a panic.
“Because I’m your brother, shite!” Bran blurts out, and my chest grows warm as I crack another smile.
