Irish on the Rocks (Murphy Brothers)

by Magan Vernon

  “Everyone, you remember Sean? He’s here for brunch, even though he missed seeing me at the gala last night and he’s terribly sorry,” I said, side-eying him as we sat down in one of the upholstered high-back chairs.

  “I remember him. He was the fat one who wore eyeliner.” Grandmum pointed a crooked finger.

  I snickered, watching Sean’s face turn redder than the tomatoes on the sandwiches.

  While Granddad was in a suit and Mum in a modest blazer and blue dress, Grandmum wore her usual eccentric attire of a feathered hat and lemon-yellow wrap dress that I was pretty sure had pugs printed on it. The older she got, the crazier her fashion choices were, and her filter was always hit or miss.

  “It was a punk phase. We all had one,” he muttered, taking a large bite of scone.

  “And there’s no one else I would have rather gone through my safety pins and mosh phase with than you,” I teased.

  “I think we still have a picture of that summer we let you two go to that place with the same name as a church. Granddad thought you were going to mass and figured he’d join,” Grandmum went on, flitting toward the living room and returning with a leather photo album.

  Sean laughed. “Ah, the St. Francis Xavier days.”

  Grandmum opened the book, flipping a few pages before setting it on the table and turning it toward us.

  I snorted, picking up the old book and looking at the photos of us in our donkey jackets and Tam O’Shanter hats, standing outside the famous music hall.

  We were surrounded by a thick layer of smoke but smiling with our thick eyeliner and chubby cheeks.

  There were times I missed those days of being in our own little bubble, listening to music and forgetting the world.

  “Didn’t Sean’s brother Jack have to pick you up that night when Sean got into a tiff?” Mum asked, looking between the two of us.

  Ugh, Jack. I didn’t want to hear that name again.

  Especially since Granddad and Mum didn’t know what happened at the gala last night. They’d have a shite fit if they knew I spilled champagne all over the acting CEO of a company Granddad was on the board of.

  “That was all Grace and her fisticuffs.” Sean winked.

  “Can we not talk about one of the most embarrassing moments of my life?” I muttered.

  “As embarrassing as what happened with you and Jack last night?” Sean’s eyes sparkled as he took a sip of his tea.

  Bloody hell. I was going to get him for this.

  “What happened with Jack?” Mum asked, her eyebrows raised high on her head.

  “Nothing. Just a little mishap.” I grumbled, glaring at my supposed best mate who was throwing me under the bus.

  “You spilled champagne all over him.” Sean barked out a laugh.

  “Gracie,” Mum chastised.

  “It was a complete accident. I swear. I was talking and leaning in…and…oh bugger. I’m never leaving the house again,” I muttered, taking a sip of my orange juice I wished was spiked.

  No. Wait. Alcohol was what got me into this mess in the first place.

  At this point I didn’t need liquor, but maybe to disappear out back where one of the maids was running Jane Pawsten. At least the dog would never say anything to embarrass me.

  Mum shook her head, but it was Granddad who spoke. “You probably owe him an apology. Even if it was an accident. We do work with him and our family has been friends with the Murphys for generations.”

  “I did apologize. Over and over again. And I still just looked like an arse,” I replied, trying not to whine with my strained voice.

  “I’d actually love to see you have to grovel. And if I could film it then play it on repeat for whenever you’re giving me shite, that would be grand, too.” Sean laughed, and I groaned before polishing off my glass.

  Apologizing at the event was one thing. But if I showed up at his office, begging for forgiveness, there was no way I wouldn’t make a complete arse of myself…again.

  Now I just hoped I wouldn’t have to see Jack Murphy’s sexy smirk for another eight years. Or however long it took him to forget me.

  Again.

  Chapter Two

  Jack

  I lost the office pool a week ago.

  My assistant, Fallon, was now married to my younger brother, Connor, and I had the under. Even worse, there was still this pesky little inheritance clause that I hadn’t fulfilled my part of.

  Thomas O’Malley’s reading of the will was constantly in the back of my mind, the words replaying over and over.

  “After my death, my three sons, Jack, Connor, and Sean will each inherit their equal share of thirty-three and a third percent of the family franchise upon the day all three of their marriage certificates are certified by a priest and again by my solicitor Thomas O’Malley, six months after the day of their nuptials. If all three of them are not married within a year of my death, none will inherit, and the board may offer each son’s ownership stake to the highest bidder.”

  I had dozens of lawyers look for any loopholes that could get my brothers and me out of the blasted clause in Da’s will, but none could do anything about it. Something about a damn “no-contest clause” in his estate planning. The only way we could get out of it was if the board voted us as Chief Executive Officer, Chief Financial Officer, and President.

  Hell, even if they just voted me as CEO it would be grand.

  But the board never agreed to anything that went against my father’s wishes. Even if those wishes were insane. Which was weird because Da loved us and this business. Marriage should never have been a part of it.

  So, my brothers and I continued to look for wives to keep the company in our family.

  Yes, it sounded like arranged marriage shite from the 1700s but our Da was an old-fashioned man, as the family’s solicitor liked to say. And now there was no getting out of it. I had to get married.

  Instead of meeting my future wife at a gala, full of some of the most eligible women in Dublin, I ran into Sean’s best mate and she spilled champagne all over my suit then tried to wipe it off.

  She said it was an accident, even as her delicate fingers trailed dangerously close to my cock. But somehow I wasn’t sure that was the case.

  I sat in my office on Monday morning and looked at the text Sean sent me with the word “throwback.”

  Holy feck.

  The photos on my screen were of a short, frizzy-haired girl with large wire-framed glasses, standing outside a concert hall with my brother. Grace before her transformation. Which is why I didn’t recognize her at first.

  She looked nothing like the sexy woman I was still thinking about. She definitely grew up these past eight years and damn, did she grow up well. But my mind had other things to deal with today.

  I had to hire a new assistant fast.

  I had a temporary one. The girl from accounting was good and kept up with it, but she despised me, probably counting down the days till she went back to her position in accounting.

  It wasn’t my fault I liked things a certain way.

  But that’s what happens when you’re running a multi-billion-dollar company.

  Bollocks. I still wanted to slap Connor upside the head for stealing Fallon. She was a fecking good assistant. Except for the fact they were so happy. Damn them.

  Maybe I was a bit hard on the temporary assistant. She hadn’t broken my one major rule: no feck ups.

  Feck ups like hitting on your brother’s best mate.

  The inheritance clause had me twisted from the day it was read. But I still pushed forward with the company. I sought out new franchises in the U.S. and new charities to invest in, which helped raise our profile. That’s not why I did it, but showing up for those galas had given us what the Americans liked to call creds.

  One of my first acts as standing CEO was to hand over a hefty donation to a few charity organizations. One in particular held a gala for donors and to honor Da.

  The night out was supposed to be my time to relax. Ha
ve a few drinks and maybe find someone to connect with. I didn’t expect to spot the gorgeous doe-eyed girl or laugh like I hadn’t in ages.

  There had been something familiar about her and it took me longer than I cared to admit to look past the styled hair and ample amount of cleavage to realize it was Grace. The same girl, who last time I saw her, I saved from getting arrested when she got into a fight with some bird at a concert. Told the police I’d handle her, even though I left a date early to pick up the two unruly kids with their dark eyeliner and screaming music. She should have been grateful, but instead she just stuck out her tongue and ignored me the entire ride back to her Granddad’s place.

  I smiled, thinking of her in the back seat, her arms crossed over her chest and trying to appear pissed off at the world. But as soon as Sean cracked a joke, a broad smile would appear on her face.

  Dammit. Why was I still thinking about her?

  It was time to just forget about that smile and focus on the company and finding a wife.

  “Mr. Murphy?” Aileen, the temporary assistant bellowed, cracking the door open.

  Where was Fallon? She should have been back this morning to help find a suitable replacement

  “Yes?”

  “Fallon and Connor have headed to the meeting. Called your phone but you didn’t answer,” she said, her words monotone as if she was running on auto-pilot, practically just a voice message reading back to me.

  “Feck,” I muttered, standing up and sliding my phone into the front pocket of my jacket after checking the time. I did see a missed call, but she didn’t leave a voicemail or send a text. That’s what Fallon would have done.

  But she wasn’t Fallon. She didn’t do the overkill that spoiled me. I probably needed to start doing more for myself in that department but not today. Not when I was running late.

  “Have my calls go to voicemail while I’m out,” I said as politely as I could before quickly making my way out of my office and down one of the wide hallways toward the conference room.

  I raked my fingers through my hair, wondering how long the hiring process would be for a new assistant.

  Should I even get a new assistant or just try and see how much I could do with something virtual? Maybe even see if I could just use some of the interns down in marketing. I made a mental note to check on that.

  “Deep in thought?” Fallon asked as she rounded the corner, meeting me in the middle of the hallway.

  “Just thinking about the meeting and how late I’m running. Think you could check in on how hiring is going for me down in HR?” I smiled at my sister-in-law as she adjusted the red frames of her glasses.

  She laughed, shaking her head. “I think it’s still the same. A ton of applicants, but none seem to make it through the vetting process. You wouldn’t believe how many people can’t pass a basic proofreading test.”

  I shook my head but offered a small nod to the beaming woman.

  At first, I thought Connor was with my assistant to piss me off and get the company. But seeing the way he looked at Fallon, even now as he leaned against the wall near the conference room door, there was no doubt they were in love.

  “Connor Murphy, first one to the meeting?” Fallon asked before he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  “Thought I was the last. No way in Hell was I going into a board meeting without my blond distraction, and you know, my beastly brother,” Connor said, flashing a smug grin in my direction.

  He was always a pain in the arse. Fallon even had to call and wake him up for a few meetings when he was working the Boston offices. She never told me he was running late, and always stood up for the lad, though I knew better.

  “You know the board won’t be happy with any of us for coming in late,” I said, narrowing my eyes at my brother.

  “Could be worse,” he said, putting his hand on Fallon’s back and his other hand on the door handle. “Could have not shown up at all and stayed on the honeymoon a few more days. Which I wouldn’t have minded either.”

  Fallon stifled a squeal as he nuzzled her neck. Definitely not proper office behavior and her red face showed that as she pushed him away. But her bright smile also said she loved it.

  Fecking honeymooners.

  The board consisted of a little over a dozen people. Mostly older men who were at least in their sixties, if not seventies or eighties, and probably should have retired long ago.

  But the one that stood out was the little old man with his silver cane, now hobbling as fast as he could toward me.

  “Seamus. Good to see you’re still well,” I said, nodding slightly and trying to forget that I blatantly hit on his granddaughter.

  He stopped, leaning against the wall slightly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about Grace. She’s had a rough go of it lately. She meant no harm, and I deeply apologize for her actions.”

  I nodded, quirking my lips at the old man, but my mind was elsewhere. I needed my game face on for this meeting, so Connor, Sean, and I could show the board we weren’t just some spoiled heirs.

  We were a team who could run the company. Proposing one hundred new franchises within the next five years was a big undertaking that I had worked on tirelessly. Which was maybe why I hadn’t recognized Grace.

  “It’s fine, Seamus. We all have our bad days.” I clapped his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

  “Well, you made one hell of an impression on her, at least. And if there’s anything I can do to make up for her actions, you let me know, okay?” He raised his bushy eyebrows.

  I smirked, thinking there was nothing the retired jeweler could do, but I’d humor him. “I will.”

  Connor and I took our seats next to the head of the board, who I was pretty sure was half asleep.

  Sean showed up just as we were getting ready to start, taking the seat on the other side of me.

  He smelled of sweat and grass, the collar of his rugby uniform visible under his suit.

  “Miss anything good?” he whispered.

  “We’re just getting started,” Connor said, holding up the remote to start the first slide.

  There was no way the board could say no to this endeavor.

  …

  I’d spent the past week contacting commercial real estate brokers with quotes on possible land deals. Connor and I had laid the foundation, but I wasn’t going to bother him on his honeymoon to help me out while I prepared the finishing touches.

  How many sleepless nights had gone by while Connor was gone? I hated to say it, but having him and Sean work with me was the best partnership I could have asked for. With Connor back and maybe Sean willing to step up, I could have time for other things.

  Like finding a wife.

  Grace’s face flashed through my mind. The way her lips curved in a pout as she tried to help wipe the offending liquid off my pants, but instead had me more than rising to the occasion. Maybe I was too much of an arse for what was probably an accident. And now I had no way to apologize. I couldn’t just show up at her flat or wherever she was staying. That would be rightfully creepy.

  No. I just had to get her out of my mind and move on with the business.

  …

  “Are we going to talk about what happened with you and Grace?” Sean whispered as we shook hands with the board members before they went down the line to Fallon and Connor.

  “Not right now,” I muttered, nodding my head in the direction of the beaming old men, hobbling on their canes.

  “They probably can’t hear us, but okay. We’ll talk later,” he said with a grimace.

  The men congratulated Connor and Fallon on their nuptials, but probably secretly hoped it had never happened so the clause could still stand. The shite Fallon’s ex-boyfriend pulled at the ceremony almost made the whole thing fall apart.

  “Connor, my boy. Fallon. Good to see that nothing derailed the two of you in holy matrimony,” Seamus said, wobbling toward us and shaking both Fallon and Connor’s hands then nodding at Sean and me.

  “T
hank you. Isn’t there some saying about a rough start means smooth sailing?” Connor said with a grin, glancing in my direction.

  Seamus nodded solemnly. “I do hope so. I was just about to apologize to Jack again for my granddaughter’s behavior. As I told him earlier, she and her mum have had a rough go of it. She’s been here in Dublin for over a month and still hasn’t found a job in publishing. She’s a former editor at one of those big publishing houses in London, you know?”

  “Oh?” Connor asked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Just a little mix-up. But I hope Grace wasn’t too offended. And she’s all right. I should really take her to lunch or something to apologize for my behavior, too,” I said, trying to hide my grimace.

  Connor winked in my direction before looking back at the old man. “You know, Jack is looking for an assistant. If your granddaughter can keep him in line, she’d be perfect for the position. You should tell her to apply and we could get her scheduled for an interview.”

  My ears burned and I stepped forward, clasping my brother’s shoulder. Of course the gobshite would do that.

  “That’s not necessary. I’m sure Grace is far too overqualified for an assistant position and wouldn’t even be interested.”

  Sean laughed, clapping his hands together. “Even if she isn’t, I’d love to see the look on her face if she made it through HR and the vetting process, only to have to face you again in the interview.”

  Fallon smiled, stepping to closer to the old man. “We could really use someone who can proofread, and there would be plenty of room for her to move up in the company. Since I’m helping Jack out with the interviews, I’d love to meet her, even if she decides she doesn’t want the job. Please extend the offer. And if you have her email address, I’ll send her a request myself.”

  This time I did glare at the sweetly smiling Fallon as she took down Grace’s email before helping to lead Seamus out of the conference room.

  I owed it to the old man, I knew that. He was one of my father’s closest friends and he’d always been good to my brothers and me. Not to mention his granddaughter was bloody gorgeous. But I’d had beautiful women outside my office door as my assistant before and none ever lasted long. I couldn’t rightfully fire the girl then look at her grandfather in every board meeting.