Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but how do they get in your tummy?” she demands, pressing her hands to her torso.
“Why have you got such a bee in your bonnet about this right now?”
“Clo,” Matt interjects, “come and press the button on the coffee machine. It’ll make your hot chocolate extra frothy.”
But Clodagh knows her uncle’s game as she looks her mom dead in the eye and says, “Because I want to know how Uncle Matty put a baby in Ryan.”
Chapter 24
Matt
“Oh, look, the part-timer is back,” Fin taunts as I enter the meeting room the following Monday morning. Oliver glances up from the printouts in his hand, acknowledging me with a nod.
I took a few days’ personal leave—not that I feel I have to report in, but I haven’t seen the pair since the day after the meeting at Theta went tits up last week. It’s been a while since I’ve taken time off, and I’m slightly surprised this pair didn’t send out a search party. I’m glad that they didn’t, as they would’ve only intruded on my Ryan time.
I’m pleased to report she’s moved in. Well, into the basement apartment, which was originally intended as staff accommodation. It’s nice enough, but I’m working on getting her upstairs. Into my bed. Into my life. The whole shebang. Which is not quite how I framed it to Letty yesterday.
After Clodagh’s perfectly timed question—well, I thought it was kinda hilarious; there are no flies on that kid—I drew a look of gratitude, maybe even admiration, from Ryan as I explained the situation to my sister.
“We’re having a baby,” I announced. “And though me and Ryan are in this together, we’re not together.”
Ryan’s shoulders sagged with relief. Letty, meanwhile, slid me a squint-eyed look. None too attractive.
“And while you’re here, I might as well tell you that Ryan has agreed to move in with me so I can be part of the whole experience.”
Letty’s next look was incredulous—she looked at me as though I’d grown another head.
Clodagh’s input was kinder. “You’ll like it here, Ryan. Uncle Matty gives the best kind of hugs.”
And I like to think that I do.
I called my sister later and listened to her rant her concerns. When she was done, I reminded her that I’m thirty-eight, that I’ve amassed a wealth that most people couldn’t spend in a lifetime. And that achieving those two things didn’t happen by accident.
In other words, mama didn’t raise no fool. I know what I’m doing.
Now there’s just these shitehawks to deal with. And the rest of the family to tell, though there’s no great hurry as far as they’re concerned.
“Aw, babe,” I say in response to Fin’s flapping gums. “You missed me?” I pull out a chair at the head of the table and drop into it, then stretch out my legs. “Howya, Andrew.” I send Oliver’s assistant a short wave before he slips out the door and closes it behind him.
“¿Qué es la craic?” Fin asks in a mixture of Spanish and Irish slang.
“The craic is grand,” I answer agreeably.
“Muy bien.”
“Well, I think it’s pretty good.”
The craic. Such an Irish concept. You can have good craic, and bad. Savage craic, which is also good, or the craic might be ninety, which is the pinnacle of a good time spent. What’s the craic is “How are you?” or “What’s going on?” And if you’re described as great craic, that means you’re fun to be around. If you want to go deeper, craic is prana and it’s chi. The life force that governs us, that flows through us, that simply is.
Fuck, that got a bit deep.
“Well?”
I shrug: Dunno what you’re talking about. “Did I miss something?”
“You don’t answer your phone . . . you don’t call.” Leaning back in his chair, Fin gives a careless flick of his wrist. “I was beginning to think you didn’t love us anymore.”
“Babe, you know I’ll always have time for you in my life.”
Fin flips me the finger, and Oliver gives a pained sigh.
Sitting up, I reach for the bottle of water we each have set in front of us, along with a portfolio including the meeting’s agenda. Oliver is a stickler for protocol. Ignoring the accompanying glass, I crack the lid and gulp it down.
It’s all good—this is typical Fin and me. I’m prepared to catch some shit for dropping off the face of the planet for a few days. Some things are just more important than making money.
“What is this I’m seeing?” From his seat at the middle of the table, Fin waggles his finger as though to indicate my face. “This is something new.”
“What?”
Fin sits straight and gives a gasp, like Oliver’s maiden aunt. Not that he has a maiden aunt, but if he did, she’d sound like that. “You’ve won her over, haven’t you?” Fin’s demand is narrow eyed.