Page 39 of An Angel’s Share (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #1)

Aoife

I’ve always loved this room, regardless of its masculine overtones. I played hide and seek in here when my daddy was working in the office next door. Made it my playroom. It was home for me.

She gasps when she sees me, standing out like a flaming beacon on top of a hill, rocking my bump front and centre.

I strut over to her. “Hi, Suzanne. Are you here to take the notes?”

“I’m taking the minutes, Patrick asked me to personally.” She tries to big up her importance. I smile widely at her, not giving away how much I’d like to throttle her. But to be fair, she is a single woman. It’s Patrick at fault. He shouldn’t have even been looking.

“Well I’m pleased to have you here. Are you sitting at the table? Can I get you a drink?” I point to a chair at the table and the drinks cabinet. I’ve flustered her now. She expected me to be a fire breathing dragon, I’m sure.

“I’m supposed to sit in the corner and be unobtrusive, it distracts everyone if I’m scribbling away,” she answers as timidly as a mouse.

“Well it wouldn’t distract me, so please, sit where you want.” I can tell my friendliness has caught her off guard.

“I’d feel more comfortable out of the eyeline, if that’s okay.”

“Totally fine. Anything you need, just let me know.” I blind her with a smile, and for a moment, even I believe I like her.

I peruse the table and see Liam’s name plate next to mine.

I don’t think so. I pluck it off the table and sashay my way down the room and plonk it next to Dermot and Patrick.

Jonno’s name is on my other side, so again, I swap that with Marshall’s, putting at least one person between us.

I shuffle the pack as best I can, grinning conspiratorially at Suzanne, who is watching me with a terrified look on her face.

Yes, get ready. This is going to be fun.

I cried every tear I was ever going to cry last night.

I know they say the body is three quarters water.

Well, I squeezed every last drop out right through into the small hours.

I cried for my idiocy, I cried because I’ve got what I deserved.

I lied and didn’t do as agreed with the pill after the night in CAshO.

I cried over the fact that my baby daddy is a liar, a scheming monster, who, regardless of anything else, thinks I am a thief.

A fucking thief. That I would defraud my own daddy, his brothers—my uncles, whom I love and adore—of their hard earned cash.

Yeah I cried big. I cried because I am a foolish woman, who, regardless of anything, wanted to be loved and cherished.

He showed me that, and I fell for it. But I do defy anyone not to have been beguiled by the man. He is a devil disguised as a god, an angel. My dark angel.

But I’ve packed up my feelings. I’m all about the business.

That was my plan originally, and I’ve allowed the family Greystone to distract me.

I wanted my family whiskey business. And I wanted a baby.

And now I’ve got both. Well, nearly. I have to make a success of it, that is not negotiable.

I need to forget about Jonno Greystone and focus on the things I can control.

I know now for a fact he is an uncontrollable force.

I’ve set him aside and I’m all, utterly, without distraction about O’Clerys .

“I can’t believe we’re having a meeting in here again,” the head of HR states as he strolls in, coffee cup in hand, looking around the elegant but dated room as if it’s a dive bar in deepest darkest Dublin.

“It was way more entertaining at the golf club. Or that fab hotel up in Dublin. Patrick, why didn’t you book that?

” He smirks over at Patrick and side eyes Suzanne.

“We could have gone to that club again. You loved it there.” They all grin at each other, and I see Suzanne put her head down.

Ah, so that is the hotel in question. It was at a business meeting. Tossers.

Marshall, Dermot, and Daddy all come in together.

My heart stutters when Jonno saunters in behind them.

He stands out in a room full of expensive suits.

He could wear a paper bag and he’d still make them all pale into insignificance.

Make them invisible. My jaw hangs open when I look at him.

Crisp black suit, fitted and caressing him at all the best points.

Tie in a Windsor knot—my favourite. White shirt of the finest quality. I can hardly breathe.

I catch Uncle Marshall checking my expression, and I’m sure I see a small smile.

Daddy looks from me to Jonno and back, and shakes his head a little at me.

Oh God, he’s seen me lusting. And he’s not the only one.

I see a few of the other men look and look away.

For god's sake, woman! Focus on the business.

Jonno smooths his hands down his torso and smirks at me.

He’s done it on purpose. He’s dressed to draw me in.

He’s peacocking me. As I stand and stare, he adjusts his trousers, and I can see the bulge in his dress pants.

Sweet holy God, he has me drooling on day one of my ‘Ignore Jonno at all costs, focus on the business’ campaign. And it’s not even 10:30am.

And besides, I’m not speaking to him ever again. Or, at least the bare minimum.

Remember what he’s done. What he thinks you are . No suit, however well-fitted, is worth that.

Jeez, he's blatantly staring at my dress. I watch as his eyes move down every inch of me, stopping deliberately when he gets to my crotch area. He’s checking for my knickers. The cheeky bastard. Well, two can play at that game.

I run my hands down my hips and straight to my thighs, not a knicker line in sight. Take that, Jonno Greystone.

His eyes light up and start to dilate. Licking his lips, his grin lights him up, and he cheekily winks at me. Winks at me, in a boardroom. How dare he. My blood is starting to boil, and not in a good way.

I call the meeting to order. To be honest, it should not be me, as Patrick is chairperson, but he doesn’t seem to have any interest in getting started.

He’s discussing fishing with the head of legal.

And glaring at Jonno. He’s been over twice to him, asking him what he’s doing here.

He got nonanswers and stomped off in a huff.

We start with minutes from the last meeting.

Or should I call them the seconds? There are hardly any, as the meeting was in the golf club, and they were lost. In fact, most of the numbers for growth that had been written down look a bit like someone’s scorecard, who was particularly bad at golf.

So I won’t be hanging my future earnings predictions on them.

Before we go any further, however, Marshall stands.

“I’d like to make an announcement. I know this could come under any other business, but it’s pertinent to going forward.

” He makes eye contact with everyone in the room.

“I’ve given authority to my daughter to act on my behalf in all things O’Clerys.

I will also be signing my share over to her in due course.

” There’s a collective intake of breath from the other side of the room.

He ignores it and carries on. “However, due to her current condition, she’s asked her brother Jonno Greystone to act for her in all business dealings with O’Clerys .

” He points to the angelic assassin sat in their midst. They have no idea what he is.

“His vote or agreement is final. I have total faith that any decisions he makes will be the right ones.

“I am, however, staying with the company as a master blender. And for any consulting anyone requires. It is my total focus to get this company rocking and rolling again.” He sits down and smiles at Jonno, his face showing his total conviction. Jonno nods his head at him.

“Marshall, you can’t do that,” Patrick pipes up.

“Not unless we agree. It has to be signed off by this board, surely.” He looks to his dad, who is sitting on his right.

“And I for one would not agree to it. No disrespect, Jonno, but you’re hardly qualified to run this business. ” His pomposity knows no bounds.

I hold my breath as I watch Jonno’s face go blank, his eyes like black chips of jet.

“I wasn’t aware there was a qualification to run a business, Patrick.

But, so you’re aware, I run several businesses, all of them extremely profitable.

” He holds his hand up to stop Patrick from interjecting.

“I appreciate that none of them are in the drinks industry, and I don’t intend to interfere in that side of things, but business is business.

And bearing in mind the current state of play with O’Clerys , it might be prudent to have a different thought process involved.

” Cool, calm, and oh so fucking composed.

Patrick is dismissed, derailed but not down.

I turn my head to the man and wait for Patrick’s inevitable explosion.

“Before you go on, Patrick,” my dad looks at Patrick’s purple face and interjects, stopping Patrick having a stroke.

Daddy stands and looks around the room at large, clearing his throat.

“I also have an announcement.” Patrick looks like he might expire.

“As you know, I have been involved or ran O’Clerys for the best part of forty-five years.

” He keeps his eyes focused on all the suits.

“I love this company, the whiskey, and the family business. But as you all also know, I’ve been ill this past year.

” He looks lovingly over at me. ”And, like Marshall, I’ve also decided that it is time for young blood to take over. ”

I see Patrick stare at all his cronies, his face ashen. Most of their faces are either pale or angry. Only one or two look unperturbed.