Page 23 of An Angel’s Share (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #1)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I bat my lashes at her now, and she laughs. “I’m irresistible. It’s not my fault. It’s a curse I’ve had to endure my whole life,” I say with a mock sigh. She pushes at my chest, and I pull her towards me, laughing.

We walk through the doors to the kitchen to find Patrick glaring at us both from over the top of an array of drinks.

Aoife goes straight over to him. She’s not afraid to confront anyone.

In a good or bad way. “I’m not criticising you, Patrick.

” She stops in front of him. “I’m not getting at you.

We need to stop all the arguing. I want O’Clerys to be great, not struggling. It is not a reflection on you, cousin.”

Well, I think that’s not strictly true, but she’s trying to placate the man, and keep him on her side.

He sighs. “I know, but I feel responsible. And things are not as dire as you think. But we can wait until the meeting to cover everything. I’m sorry, Aoife. I don’t mean to jump down your throat.” At least the man is a bit reasonable when away from Liam.

She nods and pulls him into a hug. His eyes widen in surprise, but he hugs her back, smiling as her stomach gets in the way. “Anything Christy and I can do to help, just let us know.” Patrick walks away to get the drinks tray, leaving us to pick the food.

Aoife dives straight for the fridge when my phone rings with a FaceTime call from LA.

“Hey, James.” I grin into the phone as the handsome face of my nephew grins back at me.

He doesn’t bother with any pleasantries.

“Have you spoken to Dad and Papa? They’re fucking crazy.

You need to go home and get my mum out before they cause chaos.

” He’s raking his hair through, making him look more like his dad.

“I’ve told them to come to me. Dad is having a heart attack on a daily basis.

Go fetch Mum, Uncle Jonno, please. She needs to be calm, not dealing with Dad on a rampage.

” His face is so stressed, clearly Kell has been calling him daily, probably hourly.

“If you can’t go get her, I’m hiring an extraction team from Uncle Jackson.

Helicopters, SWAT tactics—the whole nine yards. ” He really means business.

I start to laugh. They are maniacs, all of them. “I’ll ring her after I’ve spoken to you. In fact, we’ve just been talking about her.” I look up and see Aoife watching me interact with my nephew. “Aoife, come meet James, Evie’s oldest.”

She walks over, smiling, but her mouth drops open when the incredibly good-looking young man smiles at her. “You look like Marshall. I can see him in your face. But you also look so much like your dad,” she says in awe.

“I know, for my sins. The man is deranged. This pregnancy is driving him mental. Anyone would think he was carrying the twins. Uncle Jonno told me you’re pregnant, Aoife.

Are you well?” He’s so polite, a charming young man, and his face softens as he asks her.

She’s left speechless again. Our family is certainly well off in the male looks and charm department.

“Ye- yes, thank you.” She can’t get another word out.

“I’m on a TV show here later tonight with the band. It will be early hours your time, so I suspect you’ll see it tomorrow. I’m going to wear an O’Clerys T-shirt and Bucky’s taking a bottle on set.” He grins at her. “I checked in and asked Marshall, so I hope that’s okay?” He waits for her response.

“That would be brilliant. Yes, thank you. But we haven’t got a deal with you.” She sounds worried.

“No need, all free. Bucky and I have drunk enough O’Clerys over the years, we’re definitely in credit.” He hits her with his version of his papa’s rockstar smile, clearly been learning at the feet of the masters.

He returns his attention to me, his voice retaking a harder edge. “Ring Mum and then ring me back later, Uncle Jonno. I need to go over the plan for them coming out. ”

There’s no plan for them going out there, so he obviously wants something else.

I know this boy so well, he is as much my son as my sister’s.

He even bears our name. I brought him up.

Trained him. He’s so fucking smart, he could have made billions in tech with me.

But no, he followed his dad’s footsteps into music.

Not making billions, but probably not far off.

His band is a global brand, killing it around the world.

“I’ll sort them and ring you later.” I nod at him, my eyes telegraphing my understanding.

He nods then smiles and says, “Speak later. Nice to talk to you Aoife. And look out for our interview. It’s a big chat show, so it should be great publicity for us all,” he finishes warmly.

We hang up and Aoife turns to me. “Wow, he’s so charming. No wonder the teenagers of the world are gone for him. I can’t believe how much like his dad and Marshall he is.”

“Yep. Can you imagine when his dads are around? It’s carnage. Women are constantly fainting at their feet.”

She laughs as she piles food onto a platter for everyone. Picking it up, we head out to the terrace, ignoring the looks from Liam and Mae, who are clearly incensed at the options on the platter.

Still buzzing from her conversation with James, Aoife turns to Christy, who’s joined Patrick with their children. “You’ll never guess who I’ve just spoken to?”

“Who? Marcus Russell?” gushes Christy hopefully. Patrick shoots her a look, and she brazenly ignores him.

“No, even better. His son, James Greystone. Stunning.” She sits back with a ‘beat that’ expression on her face.

“Bit young for you, isn't he?” snipes Liam.

Aoife’s face changes from smiling to scowling. “Really? ”

“James Greystone,” echoes Christy dreamily. “Wow Aoife, really, what was he like?” she gushes. I’m almost laughing at the pair of them totally drooling over my twenty-year-old nephew.

“He was thoroughly amazing. And he’s going to wear an O’Clerys T-shirt tonight on an American chat show and says Bucky is taking on a bottle of our whiskey. Shameless product placement.” She laughs.

“Bucky is Evie’s other son, who is in the same band with James,” I clarify for anyone who is not sure. I start to tell them more about the band, but I’m interrupted. Rudely.

“I haven’t authorised that. How much is that going to cost us?

” Liam is firing bullets left, right, and centre.

“They’re two of the most famous men on this fucking planet.

” He stands and points his index finger at Aoife, his voice rising with every word.

“You keep talking about spending money and now you’ve gone behind my back and authorised that. ”

He turns his fury onto Patrick. “Patrick, do something. Stop this at once. I haven’t seen the endorsement deal. And the drummer is a drug addict. Do we”—he sweeps his finger around a few of the stunned O’Clerys—“really want to be associated with that branch of the family.”

He curls his lip in an obvious ‘no’ vote from him. “No offence Marshall, but I’m thinking about this family’s whiskey brand only. Nothing personal.” He puts his hands on his hips and waits for the ripple of applause he expects is coming his way.

“Agreed, Liam,” jabs in Patrick. “How much have you agreed to, Aoife?” He stares at her, following it up randomly with, “But they are huge. Even Ryan and Lara know them. It’s great publicity.” The man swings like a pendulum.

Marshall shoots out of his chair and stands up to his full height, towering over the assembled family, followed immediately by Seamus.

The looks on their faces are cold and hard.

I see Patrick’s eyes widen as his own father follows suit.

The O’Clery men are circling the wagons.

I stand at Marshall’s side and stare at the two lesser men, the fucking weasels. It’s a classic stalemate.

“She hasn’t paid them anything,” states Marshall in a voice I have never heard him use.

Ever. “I okayed my grandsons to wear branded T-shirts, and take a bottle of our family whiskey on the biggest chat show in the US.” He pauses for effect.

Then he hits Patrick and Liam again. “I told James and Bucky the state of play, they want to help. We all help each other out. No endorsement deal. No money exchanging hands. And if you don’t like this branch of my family, then you are free to leave my family's house. I’ve heard enough of you and your petty, small-minded comments on my daughter. ”

Seamus and Dermot grunt in agreement. Liam looks to Mae, who has her head down, clearly telegraphing who agrees with him. Mammy is going to be in big trouble with her husband. He then looks at Aoife and Seamus. He’s smart enough to know a lost cause.

“I apologise, Marshall, Seamus, Dermot. I was just thinking of the brand, and the O’Clery finances. And I obviously did not know you’d already agreed on everything. Obviously if things are spontaneous, I won’t know about them.” I have to hand it to him. He’s pompous even in defeat.

Marshall says nothing, doesn’t acknowledge the half-baked apology, but sits back down.

The others all follow him. Seamus talks quietly to his brothers while Mae and Christy try to break the tension by continuing to quiz Aoife on her conversation with James.

Christy yet again brings the house down by bringing up shirtless pictures of James and Bucky.

Liam, after a period of time of generally being ignored, stands. “I’m going to go get ready for dinner. Aoife, join me? It’s a half question, half command.

I hold my breath, will she do it? Or will she show her disdain and dismiss him? My money is on the latter, and I hope she doesn’t let me down.

“You go on up, Liam. I’m comfortable here. Daddy will escort me up. I’ve got business to discuss with him.”

I smirk. She’s not let me down.

“I’ll stay then and come with you. You must be tired, you’ve been up and about all day,” he simpers, trying to ingratiate himself back into the good books.

“Yes, good idea, Liam,” Mae adds, trying desperately to bring him back in favour, highlight his meagre qualities.

“No, it’s private family business, Liam. I’ll see you at dinner.”

I don’t bother hiding my smile. What a fuck off. The woman is a goddess. A pink tinge rises on his face as he stands, and I don’t bother hiding my delight at that either. He’s utterly enraged. He stalks off, and Patrick makes an excuse and follows him out.

We sit, relaxing with talk ranging from whiskey—obviously—to Christy’s kids. Dermot is throwing around his grandchildren with lots of giggles and smiles. I watch as Seamus constantly touches Aoife, his pride in his daughter obvious for us all to see.

Eventually, Mae and Christy take little Lara up to get ready for dinner. Dermot takes Ryan to look at the animals in the field and then off to get ready for dinner as well.

Seamus looks to Marshall, then asks, “Do you want to go somewhere quiet, Rua? To discuss this ‘private family business’?” Seamus smirks, raising his eyebrows up.

She looks around at us four left at the table, peers towards the house, then shuffles her chair nearer to her daddy.

My heart starts to thump. Right, then. It looks like the shit is hitting the fan tonight, not tomorrow. This woman is on fire.