Page 65 of Tangled Control

“Can’t discuss the details, Ma. Client confidentiality, you know.” I try to sound light-hearted, but the words don’t come out that way.

“And you decide to bring your bossherefor lunch?”

“Your cinnamon scones and coffees, Catriona.” Hillary’s interruption is heaven-sent. Until the words are followed by, “Alison, Patrick! I didn’t see you there. Are you all having lunch together? Do you want me to change your order to sit-in, Catriona?”

“No!” I almost shout. “Sorry, we have to get back to the office.”

Rian’s face is blank. He has no idea what’s going on or why I am acting this way, but thankfully he picks up on my eagerness to leave. Fishing for his wallet, he mumbles, “I’ll get this”, while I grab the bag with the scones and my coffee.

“Apologies for having to run off,” he says as he takes his own coffee, leaving a generous tip. “It was nice meeting you, Miss Taylor, Patrick.”

Patrick replies, but Mum only gives him a sharp tip of her head. She turns to me. “Call me tonight.” It’s an order.

“Sure, Ma. See you, Patrick.”

I practically run out of the bakery. Rian easily falls in beside me as I stride quickly down the street.

He waits until we are a block down the road and about to cross the River Liffey before asking, “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”

For half a second, I consider pleading ignorance but decide to settle on half the truth.

“I may have mentioned to my mother that you’re a prick.”

His booming laughter lifts some of my heavy mood. “That may explain her attitude towards me.” He pauses. “But it doesn’t explain your behaviour.” The look he gives me shows he won’t accept any bullshit.

I don’t respond, can’t find the words. At this moment, I hate his perceptiveness.

“Catriona Taylor, are you ashamed of me?” He sounds incredulous, like that possibility has never crossed his mind.

“It’s not that. It’s the fact that you’re my boss. She thinks I should know better, because she…um…”

Rian stops abruptly. “‘I am my mother.’ That’s what you said to me when I came to your apartment that first time. Your mother had an affair with her boss, didn’t she? Is that why she’sMissTaylor?”

“Yes,” I admit. “The affair ended with me. And now she’s totally disappointed in me for repeating her mistakes.”

He leans down, raising an eyebrow. “You have to forgive me, but I’ve never been any woman’s disappointment or mistake before.”

I can’t help but laugh, loving that he is able to make me do so despite how distraught I feel.

He spots a bench along the riverbank.

“I wouldn’t mind having this coffee while it’s still warm, and I’ve heard rave reviews about this cinnamon scone, so I’m not going to let it go to waste. How about you tell me your story while we eat?”

“The scone was supposed to be my treat, and you paid for it,” I reply sullenly.

“That’s okay. After meeting your mother, I’m probably barred from the bakery for all eternity, so I trust you to buy the scones in the future.”

Again, I laugh, warmth spreading from somewhere behind my ribcage.

Sitting on the bench, he lets me take my time telling the story of how I came to be, my mother’s mistake, my struggling childhood with just the two of us, and my almost non-existent relationship with my father.

“I sometimes wonder what it would’ve been like if I’d been closer to my dad, if his wife had accepted me. I overheard her say once that it was a good thing my grandparents were dead so they didn’t have to experience the shame.” I think I hear Rian mutter ‘bitch’ under his breath before I continue. “I’ve never met my dad’s siblings, my aunts and uncles. I have eight cousins who I hardly know the names of. I could have been close to a whole other family. I’ve only met my older siblings on a few occasions, and to think that I’m the aunt of four children I’ve never seen…” I’m quiet for a while, struggling to get words past the lump in my throat. “I guess it’s not knowing what could’ve been. Maybe they’re all horrible and I’m really the lucky one who doesn’t have to be part of it.”

I try to say it as a joke, but Rian doesn’t buy it. There’s no joy on his face as he wraps his arms around me, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, and buries his face in my hair.

“It’s their loss. If they only knew what they’re missing out on.”

I close my eyes, hiding the tears that his comforting words have caused. My breath hitches before I allow my body to melt into his safe embrace.