by Magan Vernon
This was my Connor—the guy who would call my nana and best friend to see a proposal.
This may have all been fake to win his company, but my feelings were genuine. Connor had me wholly captured.
I wasn’t ready for any of it to end.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Connor
The proposal was only the beginning. Now it was time to get the contracts and prenuptial agreement set up with Da’s attorney, Thomas O’Malley.
Soon the office would get wind of our engagement, and the whispers would go all the way up to the board.
The plan had all worked, and within a month, we’d be married. I was counting down the days until Murphy Pub would officially be back into a Murphy’s hands.
Guilt riddled my gut. I’d get what I wanted with the company. She’d walk away with her bills paid, a job in Chicago, and her nana set for life.
This moment had seemed so far away. But now that it was so close, questions flitted my mind. What if this didn’t have to end?
I shook it away. This was what we wanted. I had to keep telling myself that and ignore the nagging feeling deep in my chest.
After getting out of the shower, I dried off and wrapped a towel around my waist before walking into the living area.
I thought I’d have time to get dressed and make breakfast. But Fallon was already sitting at the little table by the window in our flat, one cup of tea in front of her and another in front of the empty stool.
“You brewed me tea?” I asked, taking the seat next to her. My gaze lingered on the diamond on her ring finger with a knowing grin. She could have taken it off at home, but she didn’t. I wondered how much of this was real for her and what was for show.
“I would’ve made breakfast, but I didn’t know when you’d get out of the shower. And you’re more of the cook than I am. I’d probably just make toast.”
The grin spread across my face. I adored her rambling and how her cheeks turned as scarlet as her pajama top when she spoke.
“I probably owe you breakfast, anyway, after being an arse yesterday. I just wanted everything perfect for the proposal. Sometimes when I go for too much perfection, I turn into a real headcase.”
“It happens. You were nervous. I get it. You made up for it. Which, by the way, you didn’t have to do any of that,” she said, waving her hand.
I caught her hand midair and held it, brushing my thumb along her ring. “I did, pinky. I told you I was going to give you romance and flowers. You deserve all of that and more.”
My heart raced every time I touched her. I was sincere when I told her she deserved everything. She also deserved better than a guy who wanted to marry her for business.
She laughed slightly, shaking her head. “You know, this is a lot of work just for a company.”
I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t even sure myself why I cared so much. At first, it was so people wouldn’t get suspicious.
But no matter how real or fake this was, I wanted to do this the right way. Someday she would probably move on to some American man who enjoyed things like wine and reality TV shows. But maybe she’d still think fondly of her first marriage and wouldn’t completely regret everything we were doing.
Because I couldn’t.
We were in this together, for better or worse. “Speaking of inheritance and a wedding, we’re going to meet with my friend Patrick today. Think my brother will let you take a longer lunch?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. The more we got into feelings, the more I wanted to change the subject.
“Has he gotten wind of our engagement yet?”
I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”
“Then this is going to be one hell of an interesting morning.”
After breakfast, on the way to the office, Fallon kept fidgeting with her ring or a button on her blouse or whatever else she could find. She held her breath up the stairs, not even letting it out as we approached her desk.
I could already see my brooding brother’s crinkled brow from his office.
He’d see the ring on Fallon’s finger, and the office staff would be there asking details. But first, we had to deal with the dark elephant in the room.
“I’ll go in and talk to my brother. You catch up on emails, okay?”
She nodded, her throat bobbing with a hard swallow.
I squeezed her shoulder before walking away from her desk and opening the office door. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or because Jack kept the office at fifteen degrees so no one would think he was a descendent of Satan.
“Sean told me the news. I’m not sure if I should congratulate you or ask if you’re here to brag,” Jack said, not even looking up from his computer.
“Thought you’d be happy that your middle brother finally found someone. Would have invited you to the proposal, but I figured you’d decline or give me that crinkled, judgy forehead like you’re doing right now,” I said.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before he stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. “I don’t know what shit you’re trying to pull with my assistant. If this is just to make some poor American bird fall in love with you, then divorce her as soon as the company is yours, I’m going to kill you.”
“That’s not what this is at all. I care about Fallon.” And I meant those words, so much more than I’d realized.
“Yeah, it sucks that the inheritance clause was sprung on us, but you know what? It was the exact thing I needed to get my shit together. I didn’t know Fallon when I first ran into her, but then I got to know the selfless, caring, beautiful girl that she is.”
I took in a deep breath. The words about Fallon were true, and I knew that deep within my heart.
We were silent for a few beats before Jack raked his fingers through his hair. “So you really do love her?”
I didn’t know how to answer that one and a lump caught in my throat at the thought. I had strong feelings for her, but I never thought about being in love with anyone.
Breaking our silence, Jack spoke again. “I received an email this morning. There is an opening in media relations for a business analyst. I may have overheard Kara talking to another coworker about how she may have fallen pregnant, and the father may be Bill in accounting who is married to the VP of media relations.”
“Bill and Kara? I always thought she was his assistant or something, but that makes a lot more sense now,” I said, wondering where he was going with this subject change.
“You were right about looking at Fallon’s CV. She doesn’t have the opportunity to reach her potential, not that she isn’t trying, working for me. As much as I hate to admit it. And with her marrying you and taking on the Murphy name, it would look better for her to be in a different department. Wouldn’t want the other employees to think I’m showing favoritism.”
I smiled, nodding to him. “I think that sounds like a grand idea.”
Even though this was all temporary, I wanted her to find a better position in the company. And maybe, just maybe, there was a small part of me that hoped she might like the job enough to stay around Ireland a bit longer. We were silent for a few beats before I drummed my fingers on Jack’s desk, voicing what I’d been thinking ever since that day in the conference room.
“Why do you think Da put the clause in the contract if Mam passed and he never met another woman? Never fell in love again?” I asked, putting my hands in my pockets and quirking a brow. Just like Jack and Da, I could easily bury my feelings, but this was something that had been gnawing at me for some time.
He shook his head, slowly blowing out a breath. “I don’t know. I wish I did. One thing I knew about Da, though, was his focus on the business. Maybe he didn’t want his boys to end up alone in the end, like he was.”
“Ah. You’re probably right,” I said, nodding and trying to think of the last time Jack or Sean was with anyone. For a brief moment, I thought about what my brother was losing.
He’d been running
this company for years, ever since he left school and a girl in London for the job. Now, our getting the company all depended on us getting married. And if we didn’t, none of us would have the business.
I could tell him about the agreement. Then, I thought of how harsh his reaction would be.
Not only could I lose the company, but Fallon would lose everything as well.
It was better just to keep things as they were, no matter how hard guilt plagued me.
“I hope you’ll be at the wedding, Jack. It’s just a small thing at the church, but I’d love you and Sean as my best men.”
A small smile crossed his hardened face, the first one I’d seen on him in a long time. He put his hand out. “I’d be honored, brother.”
…
I told Fallon we were going to see the church and to eat afterward. I didn’t mention that Patrick was one of my best lads from childhood, or one of the few people there when I proposed.
As soon as we walked into the small church, recognition dawned on her. She stared at the tall, fit man in all black with the giant cross behind him like she just saw a ghost.
“This is the priest?” she whispered, squeezing my hand.
“Technically I’m a brother. I’m not officially ordained to the priesthood, but do have the rights to perform a religious ceremony outside of the traditional mass,” Patrick said with a smile, holding his hand to her. “And when my childhood best mate told me he was finally ready to settle down, I knew I wanted to be the one to join him and his girl in holy matrimony.”
She shook his hand.
“Shocked your fiancé’s childhood mate is a man of the cloth?” I asked with a laugh, putting my arm around her.
“What? No. Certainly not.” She waved her hands in the air in front of her.
Patrick smiled. “Don’t worry. I get that a lot. Some of the women in the parish call me ‘Father What-a -waste,’” he said, shaking his head.
“But you’re not a priest…right…or are you? Do you wear that white collar and have to, um…” she asked, fidgeting from one foot to the other.
“Sorry, Patrick, when she gets nervous, she rambles. It’s actually adorable after you get over the initial awkwardness,” I said, finding myself smiling.
Patrick nodded. “They’re valid questions, Fallon. I’m not a priest, but I still abide by similar vows, just not all of the ones you’re probably thinking of.”
Fallon opened her mouth to speak, but I cleared my throat loudly before she could ask about his sex life. “On that note, should we head into your office?” I asked.
He nodded. “Right this way.”
We followed him down a narrow hallway, where he opened a door.
There was absolutely nothing in the room that said anything about Patrick. The only other piece of furniture besides the lamp and computer on his desk was a bookshelf full of different religious books.
He closed the door behind us before going to his desk.
“Have a seat, please,” he said, extending a hand toward the two worn leather chairs in front of him.
I gave Fallon a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder before we both sat down.
Patrick typed a few things on his computer then glanced at us. “Now, Connor says he wants a June wedding. Since it’s already May, I can’t promise anything for the beginning of June, but we can fit you in on the last Saturday of the month, if you’ll have it.”
“What do you say, Fallon? A late June wedding?” I asked, turning toward her.
She stared straight ahead. “That’s a month and a half away. How do we plan a wedding, move into a new house, and everything else in our lives in that time?”
“Is that a yes or a no to June?” Patrick asked.
Fallon swallowed hard, and her eyes met mine.
“It’s a yes for me, pinky, but I won’t do anything you don’t want to.”
“The planning a new house…work…I know you want to do this all as soon as possible, but this seems like an anxiety attack waiting to happen.”
“What if I take care of the details of the house and the wedding?” I blurted, feeling like Fallon with the sudden word vomit. But I was the one to approach her with all of this, so why not be the one to plan it? And if there might be a new job offer in her future, she had to concentrate on that as well.
“You? While doing your work?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“It doesn’t need to be anything huge or fancy. A small wedding with friends and family. Then we can have the reception at the distillery museum on the first floor of our offices. At the end of the day, all that matters is that I’m marrying you.”
She chewed on her bottom lip for a second before she slowly nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it. A late June wedding it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fallon
On the outside, everything seemed right in the world.
I had a wedding date set, a great guy, a beautiful new house, and now I was going to celebrate it all with a pint and fish and chips for lunch with Mr. Sexy Preacher and my fiancé.
I tried not to think about this being temporary. About the fact that I’d always be known as Connor’s first wife, or maybe not even though of at all. They would possibly joke about the American girl at one of their Christmas parties.
Six months after our wedding date, and this would all be over. Would Connor still make good on his promise for a job in Chicago? I didn’t even know what his end game was anymore, and all the thoughts were turning into a big tension headache.
My phone chirped in my purse, knocking me out of thoughts. Since Connor and Patrick were talking, I quickly grabbed my phone, walking in sync with them toward the pub.
I assumed the message would be from Leah. My face fell when I saw the comment on a photo of Connor proposing that Leah must have screenshotted.
Tina Smith: Congratz, babie, cant wait to get an invit!
Bad grammar and spelling weren’t the only things that made me cringe. A message from my mother waited in my private messages.
Tina Smith: Thot u were stil wit that Ray bozo? Since when did you move to Ireland and find a rich man? Daddy and I cant wait 4 a ride on his privet plan to the weddin!
I shuddered, my mouth going dry. Connor stopped talking to turn toward me, his arm wrapped around my shoulder.
“Everything okay?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
I nodded, shoving my phone in my purse. I told him I didn’t want to make this too public, and now I was going to have to deal with the fallout of my mother.
Eff. Me.
“Yep. Just great.”
…
All I could think about at lunch and even during the walk back to the office was my mother’s message. I couldn’t remember the last time I talked to the woman, let alone messaged her. How the hell did she have the audacity to ask about Connor?
“Fallon? Are you there? Or are you spacing out thinking if you want traditional pub food or a full dinner for the reception?” Connor asked, and I shook myself out of my fog, looking up and smiling at my dashing fiancé.
My fiancé who was marrying me to get his father’s business. Nana and Leah were one thing, but there was no way I wanted my parents in on this. All they would see were dollar signs. Albeit, that was the way I looked at it in the beginning: a way to pay off my student loans and take care of Nana.
Now it was different.
I really did care about Connor even though I couldn’t tell anymore what was real and what was for show.
“Sorry, just a lot to think about. Brain is a little fried, I guess,” I said with a laugh, hoping that didn’t make it seem like I was zoning out thinking about my deadbeat parents.
“We can talk about it later. I have a conference call with a few franchises in America as you get off work, but I’ll be home right after with dinner. Sound good?” he asked, squeezing my shoulder.
“Sounds great,” I said, keeping the fake smile plastered on my face.
…
What t
he hell was I supposed to say to my mom’s message?
If I told Connor, he would probably tell me to invite them and even offer the company’s private jet, if they had one. Still wasn’t 100 percent on that one, since Jack refused to let anyone else arrange his travel. Something about his last assistant before me setting him up in a hotel that was a living art exhibit.
Once I got back to my desk, I pulled out my phone and texted Leah.
Me: Video chat later? Around 11:30 your time?
Leah: Um, hell yeah! I need more details about the most romantic proposal ever!
I sighed, my stomach twisting.
That was all for show. Connor put on a good front with everything, but I knew all too well that soon this fairy tale was ending.
“Fallon, can I see you in my office?” Jack’s thick voice caused me to gasp and almost drop my phone.
I quickly put it back in my purse. Then I looked up to see him breezing past me with a to-go coffee cup in his hand.
Shit, I knew I forgot something. I always took the money on his desk for his morning latte and afternoon coffee.
Slowly I got up and walked to his office door.
He was standing behind his desk, looking at some papers I’d dropped off earlier.
“Close the door please.”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a nod, shutting it, my back and shoulders so rigid that they ached.
“Have a seat.” His dark blue eyes barely flicked up from his papers.
While Connor had the cocky air about him and messy hair with a little bit of stubble framing his dimples, Jack kept everything meticulous. He always had gelled hair, a clean-shaven face, and a demeanor that said you didn’t fuck with the oldest Murphy brother.
“I’ve been informed of your engagement to my brother,” Jack said firmly as he walked to the front of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the large mahogany table.
I swallowed hard, trying to get some saliva in my mouth before I tried to speak. With Connor, I could banter; with Jack, it was no-nonsense “It just happened. And I wanted you to know that this won’t affect my work.”