Page 83 of Tangled Control
I should have known nothing would get past my mother.What is wrong?Nothing, nothing is wrong. Everything is the way it should be.
Looking out the window and over the sea in the distance, I am quiet for a long time. “I’m not sure I can go through with this,” I say quietly, voicing the dread I’ve been trying to repress. My inhale is unsteady as I turn and meet her wide eyes. “There’s someone else.”
Her jaw drops open as she gasps, “Rian?”
“Rian!”
My spine straightens and my grip around the beer bottle tightens as Dad strides into the room.Fuck!
“Dad.”
“Good to see you, son!” He gives me a manly slap on my back before he leans down and kisses Mum’s cheek.
“Anna, you look as stunning as you did when I picked you up for our first date thirty years ago. To think I now, after all these years, have a blonde girlfriend.”
The line between Mum’s brows evens out. She can’t hide her beam as she pretends to scowl at my dad. She really does look good in an elegant, purple summer dress, twin string of pearlsand new blonde highlights through her dark hair. I was so up my own arse when I arrived that I didn’t notice. I really am a self-centred prick.
“You’ll be the belle of the ball, Mum.”
“Ach, thank you, love.”
Dad shifts his focus to me, and my stomach drops. “Well, I hear that you and Alexandra went on a date this week. About time, son, about time!”
Swallowing all my doubts, I force my black thoughts to the back of my mind and plaster a smile on my face. “Neither of us are getting any younger, so there’s no point putting it off.”
I spot Mum worrying her lip, but I refuse to look at her. In fact, I avoid being alone with her at all until it’s time to go. The sun filters between leaves as we walk the path through the small woodlands that separates our house with the Harrington’s. Despite the prime location, Alexandra’s parents decided to keep this patch of trees untouched instead of turning it into property, all for a bit of luxurious privacy.
The walk takes less than ten minutes, and I’m at the back with Knox, while Rosie – wearing the dark yellow Ralph Lauren dress – is up front with our parents. Soon the Harrington grounds with the large limestone manor open in front of us, a few hundred guests already here. Alexandra has pulled out all the stops. A large circus-style gazebo is centred on the massive lawn, bathing in the afternoon sun. A row of barbeques line the whole left side of the gazebo with five chefs. The rest is occupied by tables overfilled with bowls of food. Two cocktail bars are set up and a band is playing by a large wooden dance floor. It’s important to impress, as the guest list for this event doesn’t only comprise KSS and Calla staff, but also customers of the two companies, and anyone else deemed worthy.
My chest expands on a big inhale as I steady myself. I’d really like to be anywhere but here right now. Curled up in a darkcorner, humming to myself, sounds preferable, but I square my shoulders. It’s time to get to work. I don the smirk I’ve perfected over the years and start mingling. I shake hands and backslap men who have already refilled their drinks too many times and flirt with the overly dolled-up women whose stiletto heels dig holes in the lawn. Dutifully, I chat with Trevor and dance with Orla, whose line of grey hair has been tinted black for the occasion.
After a while, I grab a beer from a tray and seek a bit of respite with the company of my friends.
“How are you holding up, there? You’re doing some serious schmoozing,” Leo comments.
“Fuckin’ hell,” my brother mutters. “I couldn’t think of anything worse than mingling all day long.”
With a scoff, I drain half my cold beer. Knox excels in the art of small talk just as well as I do. Being Kearneys, we’ve grown up working the room – it’s second nature. But Knox simply can’t be bothered. For me, it’s not an option.
“I like my type of mingling better than yours.” Dylan grins suggestively.
I wiggle my eyebrows. “Did you ask Alexandra to put up a small tent just for you and your ‘special mingling’?”
“Now, why didn’t I think of that? The bushes can be a bit prickly.”
“Should I get tweezers to pick thorns out of your butt cheeks?” Leo asks in pretend concern.
I relish this light banter, a reprieve from what I know will be a draining evening when I’m already running on fumes. My only relief is that Catriona won’t be here. I know she never attends, and after the appalling way I’ve behaved, there’s no chance she’ll make an appearance.
My heart skips a beat.
What the…
I almost drop my beer as my gaze zooms in on the one person I don’t expect to see.
She’s here!
She stands there, next to Gemma, as beautiful as I’ve ever seen her. Her hair is loose, and the afternoon sun plays with it, gold tones shining. She’s biting a glossed lip and fiddles with a long silver chain necklace, which falls between her perfectly formed breasts, clearly outlined in a loose, cream, boat-neck top in a silky material. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her in a skirt. It’s dark green and ends at her knees, leaving her shapely calves bare. It’s nothing over the top, no designer labels, just a simple ensemble. Yet I can’t take my eyes off her.
