Chapter 8 #2
“I guess they can count themselves lucky,” I smirk, standing. It’s already four in the afternoon, I suppose I’ll be leaving for the day and taking my work with me. “Are you driving?”
“I am,” Evan says. “I’ll bring you back to your car when we’re done.”
Nodding, I grab my bag and pack everything into it.
“That bag looks like it’s going to war,” he mutters. Snickering, I shrug.
He’s not at all wrong. Pulling it onto my shoulder, I turn everything off and set the alarm before leaving with Evan.
“I see the families refuse to wait any longer,” I say, pulling on the door to make sure it’s locked. It’s been sticking lately. I need to figure out how to fix it.
“Cian got called in for a meeting and they insisted on speaking to you,” Evan explains. “He’s a little grumpy at the moment.”
“I just bet he is,” I sigh, following him to his town car.
“Hollis?” a voice calls out. It would be too much to ask to be able to make a quick escape.
Turning, I smile at one of my clients as they hurry over. Manuel is part of Pack Torres, and recently joined Cupid’s Call. We don’t have an appointment, but it’s not uncommon for people to swing by with questions.
It’s why my day is hijacked so often. I love hearing about dates and how things are going, though. It helps me get a feel for my clients’ experience. I like to think that the personal touch is also appreciated.
“Hi!” I say warmly.
“It looks like you’re on your way out,” he says, gazing at Evan, who has no issues looking imposing.
Please don’t have a pissing contest right now.
“I am. I have a meeting Evan reminded me about. Is there anything urgent?” I ask.
“Not at all. I was walking by and remembered my pack wanted to accept your invitation to Forever Yours,” he says. “It sounds like fun.”
“Oh! I’m so glad you decided to attend,” I say with a wide smile. This event really has become my baby in some respects. “I’ll log you down on my list. Thank you for stopping me.”
“I almost didn’t,” he says. “I know how difficult it can be to get away at the end of the day. Have a good meeting, Hollis.”
A quick wave marks the end of the conversation before he continues walking. That didn’t take long at all.
“You’re like a celebrity,” Evan teases, opening the vehicle door for me.
“Shh, I am not,” I mutter, sliding into the car.
Putting my bag down next to me, I pull out my phone to work on the app messages I may have there.
“How long will the drive be?” I ask. If I can knock some of this out, I’ll be in a better position to enjoy my evening.
“Half an hour,” Evan says, turning on the car. He’s well used to people working during commutes, so he doesn’t glance back as he pulls into the flow of traffic.
Pulling out my computer, I check how the stream of traffic is doing in the app, update a few things, and see how well it’s doing as it matches people. I’ve been using this app for about five years or so, and it’s helped digitize the questions I ask my clients to fill out.
Ten years ago when I first started, I used paper and had to pour hours of time into going over them before matching people. The app makes things so much easier since I built it myself and can add new programming to it.
By the time I get to the gentlemen’s social club where the Senior Mafia Families are meeting, I find the bulk of my work is done. It’s something I need to have time to concentrate on, but doesn’t typically take a lot of energy to do.
Putting my things into my bag, I hesitate.
“Evan, are you staying with the car by chance?” I ask. “I’m deciding if I should bring my bag or not.”
“Leave it,” he says. “I’ll be here to make sure it’s safe.”
“Thank you,” I say gratefully. Appearances matter when it comes to these men. Well, Adira did recently join this group, making it less full of testosterone.
It’s made it a bit more pleasant to deal with them.
Checking my makeup and hair, I grab my phone and slip out of the vehicle.
The cold breeze makes me regret not bringing my coat, but I’m not going far.
Stepping up onto the sidewalk, I close the door behind myself and stride toward the club's door.
The doorman opens it for me, allowing me to thank him as I breeze by.
I doubt this will be as easy as answering a few questions and leaving. It never is with them.
“If it isn’t my daughter,” says a voice that almost makes me trip over nothing.
Fuck. I rarely see my father anymore since I left home. We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, and I was practically raised by nannies to begin with. Why bother having me at all?
I feel as if I have something in my throat, but clearing it would be a major tell that I’m uncomfortable. I’m a great poker player because I keep people guessing what cards I’m holding close to my chest. The same is true for everything else that I do in my life.
Turning, I give my father a small smile.
“Hi, Dad,” I murmur. “It’s been awhile.”
“Yes, yes, it has,” he says, standing to come join me. His eyes run over me in an assessing manner, but I know he won’t be able to find anything wrong with my appearance. “Imagine my surprise to find my only daughter in a gentleman’s club. Do you have something to tell me?”
Fuck. This is one of the other reasons that I rarely see him. I’m not his only daughter. He has another! Maree. My twin. When my parents gave up the search for her, my father started to pretend she never existed.
Except she did. It may not have been for long, but she was my mirror image as a baby.
“I have a meeting with the Senior?—”
“Hollis,” Cian says, hurrying toward me. My hero. Holy shit. “I’m so sorry to steal her away, Paul, but the Senior Mafia Families very much need her.”
“They do?” he asks, shaking his head. “Why? She’s not part of the families anymore.”
Cian snorts. “That’s funny, sir. I find myself in her office at least once or twice a month needing her help,” he says. “Hollis may have left home, but she’s a very important member of our community. Your daughter saves lives and our asses on a regular basis. Best not to keep them waiting.”
My cheeks burn as I take Cian’s arm, unable to say anything as he whisks me away.
“Is he always like that?” he asks.
“Like what?” I ask, sighing.
“An ass,” he grumbles.
“I haven’t seen him in about four years, and it’s never pleasant when I do.” I explain. “They never got over the fact that I left home at eighteen and didn’t look back. Their views are very different from mine. They’re very traditional.”
“Well, I may have just given him a stroke. I’ll be sure to send my condolences to your mother if I did.”
Hiding a smile, I shrug. I did notice how red my father’s face got at Cian’s words.
It would have been hard for him to believe that I have access to a meeting he doesn’t get to attend since my grandfather is still alive.
I actually very much enjoy when I get to see him, even if it’s just at these formal meetings.
It also goes to show how little my grandfather tells my father about me.
Everyone turns as Cian escorts me inside, and I keep a neutral smile on my face. Honestly, what else am I supposed to do with my face? It feels a bit like being a fish in a fishbowl as everyone stares at you.
My grandfather gives me a warm smile though, and I squeeze his hand as I walk by. Why couldn’t my father be more like him?
“I understand my presence has been requested,” I say, turning to face everyone.
“It has,” Patrick Ryan says with a chuckle. “You’re always a breath of fresh air, Hollis. I hear you didn’t feel well last week. All better?”
“Much,” I admit, sitting down. Cian goes to find his own seat, while I get comfortable. “How can I help?”
All of my figures are in my phone, which is why I didn’t feel the need to bring anything else in.
“First off, have you been receiving any threats of any kind?” Patrick asks.
“Me?” I ask. “No, should I expect some?”
“Emilia’s rants are getting louder and more uncontrolled,” Adira says from the middle of the room. “Have you heard any of it?”
“I haven’t. As you know, I was down with a migraine. When I started to feel better, I jumped back into work. We’re too close to this event to be able to relax,” I say. “She’s about to be even more angry if this is the case because I just was asked to speak on a radio show about Forever Yours.”
“I love that name,” Patrick says with a nod. “You’ve been doing so much work on this. The Senior Families are going to donate to this event. It isn’t right that you’re putting this huge amount of time and effort into something you’re not being paid for.”
“Not to mention,” Corbin drawls, “we also asked for a countermeasure to Emilia’s plans and you immediately jumped in to help.”
“I have a dating agency,” I remind him, “and cutting through the red tape of courting is my passion. Why wouldn’t I suggest helping?”
“Exactly,” Cian says as if that’s answer enough.
“Cian, have pity on me,” I groan. “With all due respect, that was clear as mud.”
“We are clearly continuing a conversation that you haven’t been looped in on,” Corbin says with a laugh.
“Our hands are tied when it comes to Emilia, but that doesn’t mean you’re not waging your own defense against her farce of a dating event.
Therefore, we’re donating twenty thousand dollars between all of us. ”
Blinking at him in shock, I run through my costs in my mind. That’ll cover the venue, security, my time, as well the rest of the event costs.
“That’s very generous of you all,” I rasp. “I didn’t think I was here for you to throw money at me though.”
“That’s not the only reason,” Corbin smirks. “However, if you’re getting sick because of all the extra work we’re throwing at you, we believe you deserve to be compensated.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, feeling overwhelmed. Blinking rapidly, I swallow hard. “This will fund the entire event along with the sponsor who came forward last week.”
“Excellent,” Patrick says with a nod. “Now, tell us how things are going.”