Page 24 of Tangled Control

Our newfound friendship was cemented earlier this week when I talked Rian into letting Gemma – with supervision – handle the claim section of the O’Toole contract. It was a battle.

“I obviously don’t give you enough work if you think you have time to mentor Gemma as well,”he said.

“And you call yourself a leader, yet you don’t give your staff opportunity to develop?”I had responded.

But in the end, after a few more rounds of insults, Rian gave in. Of course, with a bucketful of threats of what would happen to me should Gemma mess things up.

None of the threats had included spanking…

In fact, we – again – act as ifthe second incidentnever happened. Three days of pretending that everything is normal animosity and bickering between us. All the pretending is exhausting. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, constantly struggling to keep balanced, but expecting to be pushed off with just a puff of Rian’s breath.

“I actually do have plans tonight.”

Lifting a perfectly plucked eyebrow, Gemma stares me down, as much as she can, considering she’s a head shorter than me. “Let me hear. What are they?”

“My cousin is in town and I’m meeting up with him.”

Gemma throws her hands up in the air. “Perfect! Bring him along!”

She walks away before I can utter a single word. The case is apparently closed, and sure enough, later that evening, Eric and I walk into Doheny & Nesbitt’s on Baggot Street to meet my colleagues.

“We’re only staying for one drink, okay?”

Eric tugs a lock of my long hair and chuckles. “Yes, Cat, you’ve told me three times already.”

I elbow him, but the buff soldier doesn’t wince like he used to when we were kids. “I don’t see you often and this is probably our only chance to catch up, just the two of us.”

“I know. Don’t worry. One drink only.”

The familiar scent of beer that all old pubs have hits me the moment we step inside. It’s busy but not packed, a mix of locals with their heads in a pint and tourists in bright raincoats precariously holding a pint of the black stuff while gazing at thewalls covered by old photos in black frames, sports jerseys and county flags.

We’re spotted by Gemma who waves enthusiastically. She’s with Mona and Trevor around a tall table at the back. I take a steadying breath to stave off the nerves at being out socialising with my colleagues.

“Catriona, sooo glad you could make it. You look great!” Gemma exclaims as we reach the table.

I’m not wearing anything spectacular, but I guess the fitted jeans and pink sleeveless top are quite a difference from my usual drab and baggy work clothes. I spent an unusually long time deciding what to wear, and hate thinking that Rian had anything to do with my indecision. I don’t even know if he’ll be here.

“Hello, everyone.” I clear my throat and try to soften my formal tone. “This is my cousin Eric. Eric, these are my co-workers, Gemma, Mona and Trevor.”

They all greet him, and Gemma all but giggles. “You look like a Viking and have the name to match.” A blush colours her cheeks.

Eric grins, runs fingers through his thick hair, the same colour as mine, and winks. “A direct descendent of the founders of this dirty old town.”

“Oh, please!” I huff and fight an eye roll.

“What can I get you, Catriona? A gin? I’m having a Dingle, it’s lovely. Do you want one?” Gemma has always been lively, but now she seems uncharacteristically flustered. She turns to Eric. “Catriona helped me at work, and I’ve promised her a drink to repay her. Can I get you one as well?”

“There’s no need, but I’ll join you at the bar.”

Gemma’s smile splits her face in two. It’s almost embarrassing to watch their instant gravitation to each other.

I clear my throat. “Sure, I’ll try the Dingle gin, please.”

Gemma manages to rip her eyes from my cousin for a second and singsongs, “For sure!”

“Wow, that was quick.” Mona widens her eyes while watching Eric guide Gemma to the bar with a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah… Whether it’s love or lust at first sight, I don’t know, but it’ssomething.”