Kiss Me, I'm Irish

by Barri Bryan

  "I know.” C. J. nodded. “But not for good and that's what his mamma wants."

  Margaret couldn't see how this was her concern and she said so. As an afterthought she added, “You want him home too."

  "That's right and given enough time I can get him back here for good. You're gonna help me do that."

  Margaret was a wary as a caged animal. “I don't understand."

  "I want my boy home and pursuin’ an honorable profession, not off in Hollywood makin’ a fool of himself five days a week by pretendin’ to be something and somebody he ain't. If I can keep him here long enough, he will forget all that TV star crap and settle down to run Cassidy Enterprises. If he won't do that, he can go to work for Rufus Collins using that law degree I paid good money for him to earn."

  Margaret shook her head in amazement. “You are really a piece of work. You can't live Connal's life for him."

  Cryptically, C.J. replied, “I've been tryin’ to for years and that's the problem."

  Margaret asked incredulously, “And now you intend to interfere even more?"

  C.J.'s tone moved from pleasant to hostile. “What goes on between me and Connal ain't none of your bizness. All you gotta do is keep the boy busy until I can persuade him to come back to Summerville for good."

  Margaret asked, “Aren't you underestimating your son?

  C.J. was adamant, “Nope."

  Margaret jeered, “Then maybe you're overestimating your own persuasive abilities."

  "I ain't doin’ that neither.” C.J. ran one hand across his shiny bald head. “Given enough time I can bring Connal around to my way of thinking, and that's where you come in."

  Margaret was completely at sea. “What the hell are you suggesting?"

  "I'm suggesting, damn it, that you help me keep Connal in Summerville until I can talk some sense into his head."

  Margaret kept her voice steady. “And if I refuse?"

  "Come on, girl. You can't shit an old turd. You can't afford to refuse and we both know it."

  The premise was crudely put, it was also true. “Can we talk a deal?"

  "No deal, you do as I say if you want that DVD."

  Margaret was more than a little frightened. She hid that fear behind a tight little smile. “And what exactly is it that you want me to do?"

  "How many times do I have to say it?” C. J's patience was wearing thin. “I want you to help me keep Connal in Summerville until I can either get him to take over Cassidy Enterprises or go to work for Rufus Collins."

  Margaret asked caustically, “And just what do you propose that I do to keep Connal occupied while you manipulate him into doing what you want?"

  C.J. grinned wickedly. “I've seen that DVD more than once."

  Margaret twisted in her chair, “C.J. for God's sake, don't you have any sense of decency at all?"

  "Not when it comes to getting’ my son back where he belongs.” C.J. stood and moved behind his chair. You want the deal in plain English? “Okay, here it is. I want you to fuck the boy ‘till his nose bleeds. I want you to keep him so hot and bothered and so physically worn to a frazzle that he won't have the strength or the inclination to fight me about anything.” When Margaret opened her mouth to speak he held up one hand. “Don't tell me you can't ‘cause you already did once.” Coming around his chair, he sat back down. “That's the deal, take it or leave it."

  Margaret was stunned. When she could find her voice, she gasped, “I will have you know that I am not a prostitute."

  C.J reached into his shirt pocket and took out a long black cigar. “Is that a yes or a no?"

  Margaret wagged her finger in his direction as she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. “Don't you dare light up in here.” All C.J wanted was for her to keep Connal occupied. She could do that without sleeping with him. “It's a yes.” Just how she would manage that wasn't clear yet but she'd think of something. “What if Connal finds out?"

  "He won't unless you do something stupid like tell him."

  Margaret assured him, a little too quickly, “I won't."

  C.J. put his cigar back in his pocket. “I figured you'd come around to my way of thinkin'” He stood and strutted toward the door.

  As he moved away a revealing thought hit Margaret. “How do I know that you really have a DVD of Connal and me?” Maybe the old bastard was bluffing.

  C.J. Grinned. “I expected that you'd want proof.” He slid his hand into his coat pocket and withdrew a round disk in a plain wrapper. Holding it up for Margaret to see he gloated, “Here it is—well it's really a copy of the original.” Coming back across the room he laid it on Margaret's desk and chortled, “You're going to enjoy looking at this."

  Margaret quickly slid the disk into the top drawer of her desk and began to shuffle papers. “Goodbye, C.J.” She didn't look up as he sashayed across the floor and out the door.

  As the door slammed, Margaret jumped to her feet and began to pace the floor. She had to get the original DVD of her and Connal ... Her mind hit a brick wall. Of her and Connal doing what? She didn't know. First she had better take a look at the copy she had and then she could begin to formulate some kind of defense plan. Opening the desk drawer she took out the disk and slipped it into her handbag. She would watch it after she'd had dinner tonight.

  Sitting back down, Margaret tried to concentrate on the work before her. It was a useless endeavor. She couldn't think of anything except what might be on that DVD. After awhile she gave up trying and buzzed Sylvia.

  In a matter of seconds Sylvia appeared in the doorway. “Yes. Ms. O'Neil?” As she came across the room she asked, “Is something wrong?"

  Everything was wrong. Margaret improvised. “I have a splitting headache."

  Sylvia turned. “I'll get you some Tylenol."

  "Don't bother,” Margaret snapped. In a much more conciliatory tone she added, “I'm going home."

  Sylvia batted her eyes in surprise. “You never go home in the middle of the day. Do you want me to call and ask if Doctor Mackey can see you?"

  What ailed Margaret no doctor could cure. “No thank you.” Standing she reached for her handbag. “Cancel my appointment with Marvin Stevens. Reschedule it for tomorrow if you can."

  Sylvia was clearly confused by this strange turn of events. “Yes ma'am.” She followed Margaret into the outer office. “Are you going to be all right?"

  "I will be fine,” Just as soon, she thought, as I get my hands on that original DVD. “If something comes up that you can handle put on hold on it, if it can't wait call me at home."

  Sylvia followed Margaret to the door of the outer office. “Do you want Fred to drive you home?"

  The need to escape made Margaret testy. “I want you to take care of things in the office this afternoon. Do you think you can do that?"

  Sylvia stepped back. “Yes ma'am, I can."

  Margaret hurried through the hall and down the stairs thinking as she went that she had been unnecessarily harsh with Sylvia. She would apologize tomorrow, she promised herself as she exited through the back entrance and hurried to her car. Right now she had more pressing issues on her mind.

  She drove home in a daze. In the space of a few days her life had gone from serene and secure to troubled and unsure. She couldn't help but wonder why C.J hadn't used those tapes to discredit Patrick during the several times the two of them had run against each other for mayor of Summerville. It didn't take her long to come up with an answer. The tapes were of his son too. Then the world would have seen them, now C.J. could select his audience.

  Maybe she should call his bluff. Did she dare? Into her head danced pictures of her step children and Patrick's friends and business associates each receiving one of those DVD's in the mail.

  Margaret shuddered as she rounded a bend in the road. She would decide what to do later after she'd seen the DVD. As her house came into view her heart jumped into her throat and beat erratically. Connal's titanium silver Ferrari was parked in front of her house. She pushed down on the a
ccelerator, sped into the driveway and stopped her Buick behind his car.

  She had expected to see him sitting in the driver's seat. The car was empty. Margaret grabbed her handbag, jumped from her car and raced for the front door. It was locked. She fumbled in her handbag until she found her key. Inserting it she turned the lock and opened the door.

  The house was unusually quiet. Margaret was set to call out when she heard a faint scraping sound coming from the living room. Tiptoeing across the foyer she stuck her head around the door.

  Her eyes rounded and her breath caught in her throat. Felicia lay stretched out on the couch. Connal was sitting beside her making soothing sounds deep in his throat. For a long moment Margaret stood perfectly still, too stunned to move and too bewildered to cry out.

  Felicia stirred and whispered, ‘You have been wonderful."

  Connal smoothed her hair back from her face, “Lie still sweetheart."

  Those words galvanized Margaret into action. As she rushed across the room she shouted, “What the hell is going on here?"

  Connal jumped to a standing position and Felicia sat up and swung her feet to the floor. They looked like two children who had been caught playing a naughty game. Felicia's hand flew to rest at the base of her throat. “What are you doing home at this hour?"

  Margaret's eyes flashed fire. “I might ask you the same question.” Before Felicia could answer, she rounded on Connal. “I warned you, Connal Cassidy!"

  Connal sat on the end of the couch. Belligerent as only Connal could be, he muttered, “So you did, so what?"

  Felicia frowned, “You warned Connal about what?"

  Margaret's scurrilous gaze shifted to her step-daughter. “Stay out of this, Felicia.” She noted as she spoke that the first few buttons on Felicia's blouse were undone."

  Once again Margaret confronted Connal. She had it on the tip of her tongue to give this Hollywood Romeo the dressing down of his life then she remembered that she couldn't afford that luxury. Falling into a chair she gritted her teeth. “I hope you have some explanation for this."

  Connal asked, “Explanation for what?” He shifted to look at Felicia. “Your stepmother forbad me to see you."

  Felicia's anger was almost palatable. “She had no right to do that."

  Standing, Connal held up both hands. “I'm going to leave you ladies alone to settle your differences."

  Margaret wasn't about to let him escape so easily. “And just where do you think you are going?” He had some explaining to do.

  "Back to LA to try to figure out why I came back to this jerk water town in the first place,” Connal announced as he headed for the door.

  As his words sank into her muddled brain Margaret realized she couldn't let him do that. Inside she was seething, but she managed to project a façade of calm. “Please don't go.” His surprised look made her add, “I spoke in haste, I'm sorry."

  With a shake of his head Connal came back across the room and sat once again on the end of the couch. “Is this an apology?"

  It took every ounce of strength Margaret had to keep from saying, hell no. She did her best to smile. “Yes it is."

  Chapter Eight

  Even as Connal came back across the room and sat beside Felicia he wondered why he would be such a glutton for punishment. Maybe it was the surprise of an apology from Margaret that made him act against his better judgment. “You are apologizing to me?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What's the catch?"

  "No catch,” Margaret assured him and tagged her statement with a question. “What's going on here between you and Felicia?"

  He would have given a year of his life to have her trust him. “Nothing is ‘going on'.” And maybe another one to have her respect him as a man instead of treating him like a misbehaving teenager. Intense emotion pushed him to his feet. “You are one suspicious female."

  Felicia began the process of buttoning the front of her dress. “You're wasting your breath, Connal, and your time. Margaret never listens to anybody."

  Much to Connal's surprise, Margaret said, “I'm listening now."

  Connal dropped back down onto the couch. “It's really very simple."

  Margaret leaned forward, “Yes?"

  Once more Felicia intervened. “It wasn't Connal's fault."

  Margaret sneered, “It never is.” On an intake of breath she apologized again. “I'm sorry.” Her breath expelled. “Go on."

  Felicia dropped her head. “I conned Connal into taking me to Flynn's Place for lunch.” Her chin came up. “I know, I'm a fool but I thought if Flynn saw me with a handsome famous TV star he would be jealous."

  Margaret's face took on a look of long suffering forbearance. “Oh, Felicia you are such a ninny. How many times must I tell you that you simply do not go chasing after a man after he has dumped you?” Leaning forward she stared at her distraught stepdaughter. “Something tells me you didn't succeed."

  Tears stood in Felicia's eyes. “I failed miserably."

  Connal thought differently. If he had ever seen a jealous man it was Flynn Taylor. He kept his opinion to himself.

  After a caught breath Felicia continued, “As we were leaving Flynn met us at the door. He was so polite and so cold. He told me I was no longer welcome as a customer at Flynn's Place.” She dropped her face into her hands and began to weep softly. “He never wants to see me again."

  Connal sat silently by and listened. He could almost believe that the two women had forgotten he was in the room.

  Margaret snapped, “For heaven's sake Felicia, Flynn broke his engagement to you for no reason at all. He's probably seeing other women. Don't you have any pride?"

  Connal thought that Margaret could show a little more compassion for her obviously suffering step-daughter. He considered voicing that thought and then decided that it might be wiser to keep his mouth shut.

  Felicia sniffed. “He had what he thought was a reason. He's sure he's too old for me."

  "And he is,” Margaret assured her.

  Felicia was crying openly. “I made a complete fool of myself. I lost my temper and said terrible things to Flynn."

  Margaret's supercilious tone set Connal's teeth on edge. “Probably nothing he didn't deserve. Forget Flynn Taylor and get on with your life."

  "I can't forget him,” Felicia wailed, “I'm in love with him."

  Connal forgot his resolve to keep silent. “Why don't you go to him again, this time in private? Instead of trying to make his jealous tell him how you really feel.” He thought as he offered his unasked for counsel that he was advising her to do something he'd never been able to do himself—Honestly and openly express the feelings that were bottled up inside him.

  Before the words were out of his mouth Margaret turned to glare at him. “Don't start handing out unneeded advice. What I want from you is an explanation about what you are doing in my house making out with my step-daughter on my couch?"

  Felicia stopped crying long enough to say, “We were not making out. Connal was comforting me."

  Margaret raised a disdainful eyebrow. “Was that why he was unbuttoning your blouse?"

  As she stood Felicia wiped her eyes with her finger tips. “He was not unbuttoning my blouse and your jealously is showing.” She took swift steps across the room.

  Margaret called after her, “And where do you think you are going?"

  Felicia didn't break her stride. “I know where I'm going."

  Margaret's shouts for Felicia to “Come back here” were lost in the slam of the front door.

  Connal gritted his teeth and waited for Margaret to rip into him. Instead she wiped at a tear and lamented, “Oh, God I am such a rotten substitute for a parent.” Vaulting to her feet she rushed to the door, yanked it open and called after Felicia's retreating figure, “Come back, Felicia. Now!"

  Felicia ran to Connal's car, jumped into the driver's seat, started the motor, sped out of the driveway and raced down the street in a cloud of dust.

  "I'll probably never catch her
,” Margaret breathed as she retrieved her handbag and began to search around inside. “Where the hell are my car keys?"

  Connal spoke softly. “Let her go, Maggie."

  "She took your car. Aren't you upset?” Margaret retrieved her keys and held them in her hand. “She probably has no idea how to drive the damn thing."

  "Yes she does.” Coming across the room Connal took the car keys from Margaret's shaking fingers “I let her drive from the restaurant to your house.” Opening the handbag he dropped them inside before tossing it on a chair. The contents spilled onto the floor.

  Margaret exploded. “What an irresponsible.... “After a brief but intense struggle she brought her emotions under control. “Felicia is making a big mistake."

  Connal led Margaret to the couch, pushed her down onto a cushion and sat beside her. “Even if she is you have no right to interfere. Young love should be allowed to find its own way."

  Margaret eyed him skeptically. “Since when did you become so wise about young love?"

  "I'm not wise.” Maybe he should take his own advice and for once chance saying the words that were in his heart, “What little I do know I learned through bitter experience.” Margaret's startled look made him nod his head in affirmation, “And over a long period of time."

  Leaning back Margaret stared at him. He could hear the surprise in her voice and see the doubt in her eyes when she asked a little caustically, “And what have you learned?"

  "So many things, the most important one is that I know now it was a mistake to let my father talk me into leaving you the way I did eighteen years ago.” Connal reflected for several moments before adding, “After two failed marriages and years of unhappiness I know that you and I should have been allowed to find our own way together."

  Margaret shook her head in sad negation. “No, C. J. was right to do what he did. We were children. What did we know of love, or of life for that matter?"

  "Not much,” Connal agreed, “But we should have been allowed to find out about life and love together if that's what we chose to do."

  Margaret disagreed, “It wouldn't have worked."

  An old familiar pain slipped in around Connal's heart. Without hesitation or forethought, he drew Margaret into his arms. “What makes you so sure?” His mouth brushed hers in a feather light kiss. She yielded to his touch as he parted her lips with his tongue. A dozen old memories rose up to tease through his mind before he lost himself in the bliss of the moment.