“Well, then I would have hired him on full time, and dictated in my will that you owning it would be under the condition that he was kept on.”
She snarled at the admission as he held his hands up for peace.
“Love, I don’t mean to hurt you, but I have my commitments to the Kellys and frankly, I enjoy this double life. With Daniel apprenticing now, he would know what to do if you never accepted him, and things would still be okay.”
“And now that I can’t be kept in the dark, the one condition for my ownership is that the pub continues to have Kelly influence, and play a major role in their mafia lifestyle.”
Noah bit his lip, but nodded his head firmly. “You seem to have it in your mind that it is a bad thing, love, but it isn’t. We are all good men, and we provide for our families, and we live well, and with our own rules. I want to share this world with you, Cait, I want you to embrace it as I have. I know I cannot force you though.”
Caitlin sat for a long moment as the words swirled around in her head like a hundred buzzing bees.
“What do you think, Caitlin?” Daniel asked, breaking the silence as he rested a hand on her leg.
“Okay,” she whispered, as she lifted her gaze to her father’s, “But on one condition.”
“Of course,” Noah replied, swallowing a lump growing in his throat nervously. “Anything, love.”
“I’m not going to be treated like a child or a spineless, weak female. If I’m going to be a part of this, I want to be a part of the planning and implementation, and have the final say on what comes through my pub. I don’t want someone to change their minds on what the Kelly family deals in one day. If I’m fundamentally against something, like trafficking, then I put my foot down, and it is never happening under my roof. And the pub goes into my name, whether we marry or not, it’s mine. He has his own family business he can take over if he likes, but at the end of the day, my home, the place where I’ve spent my entire life, Murphy’s Pub, will be mine.”
Noah leaned back in his chair, his eyes full of pride, “Absolutely.”
“Good,” Caitlin nodded. “Now, we have work to do.”
18
Caitlin
Caitlin walkedinto her favorite place in the entire world.
Murphy's Pub was kept closed today, despite the influx of tourists who continually came by the door and peeked in hoping for a chance to dine.
It was always the most famous and most popular location for tourists. No matter how they pleaded or how adorable their young children looked, she sent them all on their way with an apologetic smile and a promise that if they returned tomorrow, they would receive ten percent off their tab.
“Hey,” Sophie's gentle voice spoke, drawing Caitlin from deep thoughts.
“Hey, Soph,” Caitlin said, her voice distant.
“Is this a bad time?” Sophie asked as she slid onto the bar stool next to her best friend and ran a gentle hand up and down her arm. The soft cotton sweater scrunched with the movement.
“Yeah, no it's fine,” Caitlin said. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and slid away the soup she hadn't yet touched.
“Are you mad at me?” Sophie asked, her eyes full of concern. She bit her lower lip hard. Caitlin knew that she was fighting to keep her lips from trembling. Sophie had the most endearing and slightly irritating ability to cry at any sign of confrontation or emotional upheaval.
“Yeah, no. I promise I'm not mad at you. I understand that you had to keep it to yourself,” Caitlin finished after a pause. The door of the pub closed quietly as the last customer of their lunch hour rush left. It was the final shift before the holiday closed everything in town.
“If it helps, I wanted to tell you. I asked my mother, time and time again, what I could say and when I could say it. I asked both of my parents to speak to your dad and encourage him to let you in, but…” Sophie's voice trailed off as Caitlin began stirring symbols into her tomato soup.
“It's okay, Sophie. Really, I promise,” she said and did her best to offer her friend a comforting smile. “I mean, what could you do? Your father is the mob boss after all. We can't have you going around defending him, can we?” Caitlin teased. “He might give you your own pair of concrete boots and toss you across the Atlantic.”
Sophie chuckled and shook her head. “Maybe if it were one of my brothers, but not me. I'm a savior. He would have just told me how disappointed he was in me and how it’d be a disgrace if the family knew.” She sighed.
Caitlin placed a comforting hand on Sophie's denim clad legs. “He can be kind of tough on you, can't he?”
“Yes,” Sophie said. She ran her fingers through her blonde curls. She held a single lock straight before allowing it to spring back to her face. “He loves us, I know he does, but I wish he were more delicate about it. I always imagined your dad,” she said, casting her glance to the photograph on the far wall of Noah with his arm around young Caitlin. “He really is an excellent father isn't he?”
“He is,” Caitlin agreed. “And though it hurts, I think he was trying to protect me.”
“I know he was,” Sophie said and squeezed Caitlin's hand. “Are you able to forgive him?”
