Page 21 of Arranged Devotion
Martin Corrigan’s moderately tall, around six foot. He’s got snow white hair and has for as long as I can remember. His blue eyes squint at me, lined with wrinkles from his default disbelieving glare, no hint of happiness at seeing his daughter.He’s about as Irish as they come. Men like him would’ve struggled to find work outside the docks in this city a hundred years ago. Now he’s the founder and CEO of one of the most powerful construction firms on the east coast. Progress, I guess.
“Hey, Dad. How was lunch?”
“Too long.” His standard reply. He shuts the door behind him and sits heavily behind his desk. His cheeks are flushed, which means I was right about that martini. “What’s up, Regan? I didn’t know we had a meeting.”
“We didn’t. I’m not here on company business.”
His eyes flick to his computer, already wondering how he can get rid of me. “What’s going on? You okay? You need money?”
I grimace and shake my head. “No, Dad, I don’t need money.”
“Good, that’s good. I hope we’re paying you enough.” He doesn’t laugh. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a joke.
“I want to talk about Kieren.”
I squirm in my seat. He pins me with that look of his, both questioning and probing and deeply unhappy. Most people might think a man would be glad his daughter dropped in to see him, but not Martin Corrigan. At best I’ve been a nuisance, and at worst?—
I don’t think about the worst.
“He doesn’t work here anymore.”
I dip my chin. “I know that. I mean, I figured.”
“And I know you two broke up.” He says this firmly, like it’s somehow my fault. I bet he does blame me, actually. Like if I hadbeen a better partner, somehow Kieren wouldn’t have fucked Vera in our bed. Like I’m to blame, and I hate that there’s a worm with that idea wriggling through my grey matter, eating my brain to mush.
“What happened with him?” I say, struggling not to sound too weak. “He quit so suddenly.”
Dad checks the computer again. “Not something you need to worry about.”
“Right, but I know something happened?—“
His gaze tightens. “And how would you know that, Regan?”
I look down at my lap. I know because I caught Liam searching through Kieren’s car, and that means Kieren did something very wrong.
But this isn’t my place.
I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut. Maybe I see some things, some numbers that look odd, for example, or overhear a conversation back at home that doesn’t sound right. But no matter what, I let it slide past like a cool breeze, there and gone again, out of my head. I never mention it. I don’t talk about it, not to anyone, not to my father, not to Kelly, not ever.
My place is to do what I’m told and to shut up about it.
I’m good at that. I’ve had a lifetime of practice. All my instincts scream for me to apologize and get out of his office before I take up more of his precious, valuable time. My father’s an important man, right? And I’m nothing.
Maybe something of the night before still lingers in my spine, because I meet his eyes again, jaw set.
“Kieren left for a reason, didn’t he?”
“We’re done with this conversation. Kieren’s gone, both from the company, and from your life. Move on, Regan. Breakups are hard, but you’ll survive.”
“I want to know what he did, Dad.”
“That isn’t your place.” His tone is edged now. A quiet but real threat. “You know how this works.”
Keep quiet. Do what you’re told.
I hold his gaze. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he? Worse than just cheating on me with Vera Baranov?”
Dad flinches. He seems surprised that I said it out loud, like admitting to what really happened is somehow shocking. He considers me for a long moment, some of his frustration ebbing away, maybe helped on by that stomach full of alcohol.
