Cass was incensed at the mention of Harry.
“My brother’s what? What the hell are you talking about you crazy bitch? Rory what is she talking about?”
“Oh did he not mention it? Rory’s sister, sweet girl. Aoife isn’t that her name, Ror? She was dying you see, sad story. She needed a lung transplant and all the money in the world couldn’t buy one for her. But she got lucky. They found a match for her. Your brother’s death saved her life. She got his lungs.” Cass saw the shocked faces of Marie and Mark as they looked to Rory. “I knew Rory would find you. He always was such a romantic, always one for a happy ending weren't you, Ror? And like a little pet dog you latched on to him. Thinking a man like him would want a girl like you. Bless.” Abigail put her hand over her mouth and giggled shaking her head.
“Get her out of here, now,” Rory shouted. Cass watched his face contorted in rage. Security launched forward and began to drag Jonathan and Abigail from the room.
Abigail threw Cassidy a look of pity as she passed her.
“Poor Rory, having to shag a fat lump, because he felt he owed you something. He’ll never love you.” Marie screamed and launched forward with her fists flailing as Mark tried to hold her back. “Rory, get them out of here !” Cass blinked as Mark roared at Rory. She had never heard Mark shout before and it frightened her.
“Get them out of here, Get them away from her! Get out you bastards!” Rory lurched forward and Darragh and two security guards held him back as he tried to reach Abigail and Jonathan. Cassidy started to hyperventilate and raised a shaky hand to wipe her sweating forehead.
Darragh put his arm around Cassidy’s waist as she sagged. This cannot be happening. Rory had asked her about Harry about his life and his death. He would never betray her like that. Never lie to her. Would he? Was it all a lie? All the things he had said. She loved him so much.
Pushing Darragh away she looked at him through her tears.
“You knew too, didn’t you Dar?”
Darragh hung his head and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Running a hand through his long hair he nodded, just once quickly. “I’m so sorry Cass. He was going to tell you tonight. What a fucking mess.”
In the background Cassidy could hear Abigail still shouting at Rory as she was escorted out. “How does it feel Rory, how does it feel to be hated?”
Cassidy blocked her hateful voice out as she swung around and half walked, half run from the room. Abigail’s words rang in her ears. A reward for your brother’s lungs. Having to shag a fat lump. He’ll never love you.
Clutching her handbag to her chest she made it outside the hotel and around the corner, just as the retching began. She emptied the contents of her stomach on the ground splashing her shoes. Gasping for air she dropped her bag and put her two hands flat on the wall in front of her. Fuck!
“Cassidy, Cass!”
She felt Rory’s hand on her back and shrugged him off. She bent down and riffled through her bag to find a wet wipe.
“It’s true, isn’t it?!” She heaved again. Rory looked at her for a moment in silence, his breathing ragged. He pushed back his hair and stood with his hands on top of his head, fingers laced in each other.
“Yes, Cass. It’s true. Some of it. Aoife was the recipient of Harry's lungs. And I wanted to find you. She…wanted to find you and your parents. She wanted to thank you for giving her life again. She can’t enjoy life, she can’t live. The guilt…Please let me explain. I never intended to hurt you. I never-”
“You never what?! Never meant to get a fuck buddy out of it too?!”
“No!” Rory yelled. “No! Cassidy, you were never that, you aren’t that to me.
You are-”
Cassidy raised her palm in front of his face. His beautiful treacherous, lying face.
“Shut up! I can’t even bear to look at you! Jesus, how you must have laughed. Your family got some of Harry and then you got some of me. Your sister got Harry’s lungs and you got my heart. Double whammy for the great O’Malleys.”
Rory’s head snapped back as if he had been slapped.
“Cass, please let me explain. I never meant to deceive you. I was going to tell you. I was going to tell you when I first met you. And then, you were so-. We were so-”
He took a deep breath.
“We got on so well. I waited and it just got harder and harder to explain. And then, I fell in love with you. I swore I was going to tell you tonight. Please don’t shut me out. Cass, please.”
Cassidy shut her eyes tightly and shook her head putting her hands over her ears to block him out until he was silent. Sighing, she rested a hand on his chest, softly feeling the thump, thump of his heart. “Don’t, just don’t. I can’t do this now. You lied to me, you used me. You hurt me. I despise all that you are!”
Cass saw his eyes widen and recognised the flash of pain that crossed them, she felt a moment of regret at her words. Rory would never hurt her intentionally. He didn’t have it in him. Walking away from him, she headed down towards the kerb and into the nearest waiting taxicab; she wrenched the door open and sat in locking the door behind her.
“Cassidy, wait please! Don’t run away. Let me explain!”
“Looks like the man wants to talk to you sweetheart” the taxi driver said looking concerned. If there was going to be trouble he wanted none of it.
“Please take me to Earlsworth Lane, as quick as you can.”
Cassidy could barely get the words out and turned her head away as Rory banged on the window beside her, and tried to pull open the door. Burying her head in her hands, she sobbed. How the hell had she been so gullible, so stupid? A man like him, wanting a woman like her, that bitch Abigail was right! It was too good to be true.
She would never be that lucky. This is what it felt like to have your heart broken. Like a million shards of ice piercing her head and settling in her heart. Closing it over, freezing it. Looking at the ceiling of the cab, her nose swollen and her eyes stinging she rubbed her tongue off the top of her teeth. She should never have trusted him.
Never have let him inside her head, her heart and her damn bed. Oh Harry! What the hell have you started? No. This wasn’t Harry’s fault, or Rory’s sister Aoife’s fault for that matter. She wondered about Aoife. What was she like? Did she know about the deception? Rory had stolen all that from her, she couldn’t tell her parents. It would break their hearts to think someone had deceived her in such a shameless manner. No.
Rory O'Malley was dead to her; as dead as Harry, and just as cold. She would move on and get back to work. She opened up her purse and looked at the commission cheque he had given her earlier. Half tempted to rip it up and throw it out the cab window. It felt dirty now. But she needed it, Marie needed it. And she had worked for it, in and out of the bedroom. She curled her lip in disgust at her own stupid heart. Her job at the O’Malley Resorts was finished. She would never have to see him again.
Putting it back in her purse, she chewed on her nail until the cab stopped outside her flat.
“Will you be okay, miss?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’ll be fine.”
She ignored the look of pity and concern on his face as she handed him a twenty.
“Just fine. Keep the change.”
(Cass)
If you are looking for a friend without a fault,
You will be looking for a friend forever.
Irish proverb
Cassidy woke feeling fuzzy and hung over. Damn Marie and her damn vodka. Ugh, what the hell did she eat last night? She tried to lift her head from the pillow and felt the room spin on its axis. Rory. He was the first coherent thought in her head. He had lied to her and broken her heart. How could he have done it? How could he have listened to her talk about Harry and all the while knew that his death had given life to his little sister? That he lived in her. She closed her eyes tight. No! Harry was gone, it was just tissue, just a set of lungs taken from him while he was still warm and given to Aoife to make her well again. She couldn’t hate
Rory, she couldn’t even pretend to. He was everything that was good. Everything that was kind and generous and real. And now, everything about their relationship was a lie. How could she ever trust him again? And that foul Abigail, Jesus, how the hell did he ever put up with that whiny bitch for a girlfriend? He really needed a kick up the hole. Even if they never got together again, she hoped that his balls would turn black and fall off before he would look at Abigail again. Oh wait! Nooooopleasedontmakehisballsturnblackandfalloff! Cass groaned and rolled over. Damn Rory O'Malley and damn her stupid heart. Marie and Mark had arrived home a half an hour after her. They were visibly upset and shaken by what had happened. They had arrived on the scene just as her cab was pulling away. Marie said that Mark was going mad and had fucked Rory out of it. Marie looked so sad and disappointed that Cass had felt even more angered by his betrayal. He had let them all down. He had suckered them in and lied to them all. Marie had said that Mark was meeting with Rory that morning and when he returned Cass had refused to talk to him about Rory. She couldn’t bear to hear his name mentioned. She buried her head under the quilt and began to cry again.
(Rory)
Distant hills look green.
Irish proverb
Rory paced up and down the length of his office. His jacket and tie were discarded on the floor and his shirt half open. He grabbed the half empty bottle of Jameson Irish whiskey and poured another drink. It had been over three weeks. Three weeks since he had seen Cass properly. He had gone to her flat every day and then to the gallery and spoken to Mark and Marie, who would look at him and shake their heads, she hadn’t been in to work. They had been angry, as he expected. But, they had listened to him with open minds and as the days went by, they had shown him forgiveness. He was ashamed of himself and sleep had become an elusive friend. For the first time in his life, he had done something he couldn’t excuse. He had betrayed them all, Cass and her family, Marie and Mark, Aoife, his family. And Harry too. All of them. All the people he professed to care about, he had hurt. He needed to see Cass, to explain himself to her. It was becoming a sad ritual. Calling to her flat in the mornings, ringing her constantly and then dropping by the gallery to see if she had ventured out. Flat, phone, gallery, flat, phone and home. He was sick of it. He’d never had to work for a woman before. Then again he had never messed with a woman’s life or head, as much as he had with Cass. He stood at the window and looked down over the London eye, which shone like a giant Ferris wheel outside his window.
“You’d want to go easy on that stuff.”
Rory didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Go away Darragh, just leave me alone.”
“Now now, Rory. What kind of a brother would I be if I left you to drown your sorrows all alone?”
“A smart one, I don’t need or want company.”
“You fucked up Rory.”
Rory swung around and threw his glass at the wall.
“Don’t you think I fucking know that Dar! I ruined the best thing. No. Correction. The best person to ever come into my stupid life.” Darragh ignored the outburst and sat at the edge of Rory’s desk.
“She loves you, Rory”
“How the hell would you know? Maybe, I don’t know. It’s too soon.”
“You love her?”
“Jesus Dar, would you let up on the questions.”
“You love her though?”
“Yes. Ah, I don’t know. What the hell does that even mean? I like her, she’s funny and smart and beautiful. And she drives me crazy. Do you know she talks to that kitten like it’s her baby and she makes faces behind people’s backs when I’m talking to them. Funny faces like this.”
Rory opened his eyes wide and put his hands on either side of his face pulling a Cass face.
“And she smells so good, no one smells like her Darragh. Her natural smell is like flowers and rain.”
“So that’s a yes then, you love her. Jesus Rory, you’re like a teenage boy with a permanent horn around her. The girl looks like she has just been fucked every time I’ve met her. And she makes little faces like this.”
Darragh mimicked the face Rory had just made.
“And Rory, F.Y.I, you have grown a mangina. Manflippingina! Flowers and rain, what the actual fuck, like?”
“Shit.”
Rory sat into his plush chair and put his feet on the table, crossing them at the ankles.
“You’re right, Darragh.”
“About the mangina?”
“No you feckin' eejit! I'm in love with her.
I…love…Cassidy Evans. How in the hell did that happen? I’ve had longer relationships with a loaf of bread. How could I fall so deep, so fast?”
“Dad always says, when he met mama she was on the last week of her studies in America. They met and he convinced her to spend the week with him. And on the last day, the seventh day he knew her, he told her he loved her. He asked her not to go home to Florence. And she never did. Ah, I mean she did go back of course, for visits and the times when we visited Nonie and papa, but not then. Not when he told her that he loved her. She took a chance, because she knew. After seven days together they both just knew. And they’ve made it work for the last 40 odd years. Sometimes love is a slow burn and other times it hits like lightening. No matter what way it comes, you have to take it and run with it. Unless you want to end up alone or worse, settling for someone who is only a shadow of the love you had a chance with.”
“When the hell did you get so wise Darragh? And what the hell do you know about love?”
“I know it when I see it.”
Rory grunted, put his head back and pulled the muscles on his neck with his palm.
“I’ve really fucked up Darragh, haven’t I?”
“I’m not gonna lie to you Rory. You are a prize fucking idiot.”
“Cheers man.”
Rory rubbed his forehead and covered his face with his hands.
“Look Rory, you need to go home. You need to take some time out and decide what you want to do. And then you need to figure out how to win her back.”
“Win her back, eh?”
“Yeah, unless you don’t want her. I mean she’s a gorgeous girl. If you don’t want her I’m sure there are others-”
Rory Jumped off the edge of the desk and came up to Darragh’s face stopping within an inch of his nose.
“No. Mine! I mean … she’s mine. No one else can have her. Cass is my girl.”
Darragh clapped him on the back hard.
“That’s the spirit brother. Now go and get your shit together. We’re going home for a visit. I bet the lads will be delighted when they hear all about your new adventures in London.” Rory groaned.
“I’ll be ready tomorrow night. I have something to take care of first. Something important. Get the plane ready and I’ll meet you at the airstrip at 9pm.”
The next morning, Rory rang Grace and tapped his fingers against the glass of the window in his office as he waited.
“Yes, O'Malley junior. You called? I am less than five feet away outside that wooden structure called a door. Have you lost the use of your legs?”
“Morning Grace. I am doing out the Christmas bonus’ as we speak, would you like three zeros or four?”
“Apologies oh master, what can I do for you?”
“Ring Jonathan Smith. Screen writer. I’m sending you his number now. Arrange a meeting. Give him some hook; get him here as soon as possible.”
“Do you want to-”
Grace heard the click and stared at the phone in her hand. She really needed a holiday. These O'Malley men were killing her.
Less than two hours later Jonathan Smith sat opposite Rory in his personal office, money signs firmly planted in his eyes. Grace had done well. He had taken the bait. Money was his king and Rory hated the man for it.
A large cherry wood table separated them. Rory stared at the pictures of his family, framed in silver on his desk. They were the only thing that mattered, really matte
red to him. The money, the status, it was all just icing on the cake. The people in his life that knew him and loved him were the things that were irreplaceable. He ran his eyes over the picture of Cassidy and himself that day in Paris. As they had walked around the markets of Montmartre they had asked an elderly couple to take their picture. His eyes ran over Cass, her hair vibrant and red curled around her shoulders. A blue summer dress made her more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen. She was laughing her face upturned like a flower in the sun. Her face upturned to his, she loved him. He turned his face to Smith and studied his opponent carefully. Smith was eyeing him with a haughty expression. Rory clenched his fists under the table. Outwardly his face showed no emotion, but inside he was churning like an engine. He had five pictures turned upside down on the table in front of him. He laid them neatly in front of Smith, carefully fixing each one beside the other. He slid the first picture across the table and waited until Smith turned it over.
“What the hell is this?” he stared at the picture of Cassidy and sneered.
“This, is mine. You touched someone that belongs to me. I don’t like my people being damaged or hurt. You hurt someone who is precious to me.”
“Oh, so she’s yours now. Nice lay, tight.” Smith smirked.
Rory let a big smile sit menacingly on his face, and threw his head back and laughed.
“Funny guy. These other pictures are interesting too, have a look.”
Smith turned over the other four photographs one by one.
“You might recognise these men, Mister Smith. They are the owners of the three biggest movie production studios in Hollywood. The big bosses. Head honchos. I’m sure you recognise Daniel Bateman. That’s Dan here with me last spring. Dan and I go way back. He’s a good friend, terrible polo player, but don’t tell him that. He’s sensitive about it.”
His eyes glistened dangerously as he touched his finger onto each of the pictures. “Let’s not play games, Jonathan. I know you recognise the men in these pictures and you will at least have heard their names. I know each of these men on a professional and personal level. I suppose what I’m saying here Jonathan is you will never work in Hollywood again. You will never sell another script. You will never even get some much as a phone call with these men. You are persona non grata, in their town.”
Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance Page 14