“Yep,Aladdin. I’m here with a youth group.”
Although still very busy with her wedding-planning business, Mila does a lot for charity, particularly with underprivileged kids. By extension, Maven Inc. does a lot for charity too. It’s fair to say that since the pair announced their surprise marriage, Fin thinks a lot less about himself. These days, he’s often to be found squeezing money out of friends and clients in the name of his wife’s causes.
“I suppose I should be grateful I’m not wearing harem pants, a vest, and a fez.” I’m pretty sure my nipples would snap off in this weather.
“I was just about to mention how fetching you look.”
“Thanks.” I narrow my eyes playfully. “No need to mention it. Like, ever.”
“No need to mention it ... to anyone in particular?”
“I see you’re picking up what I’m putting down. Don’t tell your bollix of a husband, and you and me will be grand.”
“I’m sorry, Matt. Fin and me, we don’t keep secrets,” she says with a grin.
I harrumph. Like a grumpy old bastard. “What’s it gonna cost?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” she says, trying not to let her grin get any wider. But I know her game.
“I’ll give you fifty grand,” I mutter, gesturing ahead to her youth group. One of them waves, and I realize it’s Ronny, Mila’s assistant. “Hey, Ron,” I call out. “Got any secrets about your boss you’d like to trade?”
“Nah, fam!” she calls back with a stuttering laugh. “Me and Meels are tight. We go way back.”
“Miss Mila.” Clodagh tugs on Mila’s hand. “Is that lady your family?” I guess it’s Ronny’s vernacular that prompts Clo’s question.
“It’s just Mila, love,” she says, dropping down to my niece’s level again. “Ronnyismy family. Some family you’re born to. Others you choose.”
“So you chose her?”
“I did.”
“Because she’s ’portant to you?”
“Exactly.”
Clodagh’s head tilts my way. “Can you unchoose family, Uncle Matty?”
“You’re stuck with me.”
“I was just asking,” she mutters.
“Back to my outfit,” I say. “That and the price of your silence.”
“It’s really that important to you?”
I love how Mila doesn’t bat an eyelash at both the bribe and the amount. I suppose it means she no longer feels out of place or uncomfortable. I mean, I get it. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth either. Not like the other Maven two.
“You know if either of those eejits gets wind of this,” I say, tugging on my sash, “I’ll have to leave the country.”
“I think it’s adorable what you’re doing.” She gives a sassy one-shouldered shrug. “How you look.”
“That’s because you’re not a piss-taking arsehole.” My eyes fall closed.Fuck,I silently intone. I glance down and, with a sigh, say, “Sorry, Clo.”
“Uncle Matty,” she says, her own sigh filled with disappointment. “You’re not ’posed to curse where my ears are, remember?”
“Maybe I should just take your ears off.” As I reach for those tiny things, she gives a delighted squeal, slapping her hands over them.
“Not my ears!”
