I stared at the label on the bottle advertising the small microbrewery where it was made. “I figured she would be. I think she’s one of the bridesmaids.” I couldn’t describe seeing her as torture, because although it came with a shit ton of hurt, even after thirteen years of being dumped with no explanation or conversation, I still loved being around her, seeing her. Verbally fighting with her. She challenged me like no one else ever had.
“Do you not think you need to have it out with her? I think thirteen years is a long enough period of time for you both to have cooled off,” Nick said, pulling Margot out of the pen and passing her to me. “Pulling hair is not okay,” he said to his daughter. Margot buried her head in my chest.
“No,” I said. “That would be like getting a stick and poking a snake with super powers.”
A knock at the door sounded at the same time as Nick’s iPad made a noise. He glanced at it before looking at me, his security system clearly working. “Speak of the devil and it doth appear,” he muttered. “Fancy getting the door? It’s Claire and my new housemate.”
I carried Margot, whose hands were now pulling my hair, down the hallway. Female voices were muffled by the door but I would’ve been able to identify one of them even if it had been muffled through ten doors.
“Hello, ladies,” I said as I ushered them in. The light of the late summer evening was dwindling, red skies promising a better day than the rain filled one we’d had today. Margot spun round to stare at Claire and her client.
“Hi,” the blonde woman said. “I’m Katie.”
She gave me a beaming smile that looked as nervous as hell and I automatically wanted to find and maim the person who had made her shoulders stoop and caused her to be frightened. Considering she was using my company for protection, that could well happen. “I’m Katie.”
“I’m Killian,” I said. I reached for her bag but she shook her head.
“No, I can carry my stuff. You look like you have your hands full with your little girl.” Katie looked wide eyed at Margot, who with her big blue eyes and wild mess of curly white blonde hair was as pretty as they came, even though I was completely biased as her uncle.
“She’s my niece, and there’s another one who looks just the same in the lounge with her dad,” I said. “Drop your bag there and go through.” I gestured to the door leading off the hall where my brother had now appeared, Kitty clinging to his legs.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Nick O’Hara. Welcome to the place that is run by two small blonde dictators. I apologise for everything in advance.” One look and he had turned on the charm: my brother was an ass when it came to a pretty woman and Katie was just that.
I turned back around to see Claire standing in the doorway, her eyes flicking between me and Margot. “Hi,” I said, taking her in. She was small, barely five-foot-three and more than a foot shorter than me, and petite framed. Narrow shoulders, narrow hips and a waist than I could span with my hands. Her hair was in its usual dark bob with a thick fringe and she had huge brown doe eyes that I couldn’t hold for too long without falling.
“She’s grown,” Claire said, stepping inside and closing the door.
She headed to me and I froze as she neared, speaking to Margot and cooing at her. Margot giggled, stretching her arms out towards Claire.
“Can I take her?”
“You don’t need to ask,” I said, letting my niece go into Claire’s grip and be plastered with kisses, big noisy ones. I laughed, unable to take my eyes away. “I’m pretty sure Nick won’t mind if you borrow her and Kitty for a few hours so he can get some work done. Your client needs setting up.”
Claire’s eyes fixed on mine, her arms wrapped around Margot and she looked the most content I’d seen her in years. “I’m pretty sure I can babysit tomorrow. It’d be a good excuse to avoid listening to wedding plans. I’m going to end up tipping water over Jackson if he doesn’t stop mooning over Vanessa and being so excruciatingly happy.”
I laughed. “Just water?”
“I’m sure I can find something that would sting more. I suppose we need to meet about my client too. I’ll see if Marie will have the girls for a while too. This could be a complicated one,” she said, heading into the lounge.
I remembered the Christmas holidays when Claire and I had sneaked off to the cottage every chance we’d had to be alone. The place had undergone a whole refurbishment since then, probably more than once, but the rooms still echoed with memories of that year when no one had known that we couldn’t get enough of each other. We’d found an empty bedroom in her halls of residence, where some student had left to go home for compassionate leave while it was term time. Finding privacy during the holidays was more difficult. I’d come to the Callaghan home as Max’s friend. We’d been best mates since Freshers’ Week at Oxford University, and I’d known Claire before she’d joined us, two years below us, at the same college.
I heard an excited scream as Claire entered, followed by Nick shouting at Kitty to watch his beer with a resulting “shit” that at some point the twins would be repeating. We’d already given up trying not to swear in front of them.
“Your step-mum’s going to refuse to have me stay here again when she sees the state of this place,” Nick said, looking up at me as we followed Claire into the room. She had both the twins climbing over her now and was showering them with kisses.
“Marie is thrilled to have them here. She’s desperate for grandkids so Kitty and Margot are honorary granddaughters while they’re here,” Claire said. “I’m just glad you’re able to step up Katie’s security as well as house sharing for a few weeks.”
I looked at Katie, who was sitting with a bottle of water at the opposite end to the sofa where Nick was. She was pale and tired and clearly at breaking point with what she had gone through in recent weeks.
When Claire had agreed to act for Katie when divorcing her husband, Dean Lacey, Max and Jackson Callaghan had approached me to organise security for Claire. Eighteen months ago, Claire had represented a well-known actor in a divorce which had ended up with her apartment being ransacked by someone acting for his wife looking for files on the case and Claire being threatened and followed. The media interest had been high with one reporter especially persistent. Based on that experience, Jackson, the firm’s managing partner, had arranged security from the outset, something Claire had been resistant to, especially when I had covered some of the shifts. And the reasons for covering were not fuelled by business acumen.
“We need to know exactly what we are dealing with,” Nick said, picking up Margot from Claire. “I need to know what threats you’ve received, even if you think you’re just being paranoid and I need to know everything about your husband. We’re not the police. You’re employing us, so we’re working for you.”
Katie nodded, looking up at him. “Can I talk to you in the morning about it?” she said. “I just want a night where I don’t have to think about him. Please?”
There was no way my brother would refuse that.
“Sure,” he said, Mr Predictable. “The twins have a mid-morning nap. We’ll talk then.” He reached down and scooped up Kitty, who started to pummel his chest, knowing what was coming. “Bath time. Then bed. Then daddy can have a beer without worrying about it being knocked over everywhere.” He continued to mutter as he left the room, the twins grumbling.
