16. April 11, 2023 #2
Zion leaned forward in his seat, his fingers threading together, hands raised, elbows on the table.
“The populace elects politicians to decide issues for them. The majority votes someone into power, and they trust that individual to have their best interests at heart. So yes, I agree, it is a business in that regard. But I don’t sit around with my board of directors and argue whether our planes might deliver weapons to a particular base or border or what have you.
We don’t argue about what color to paint something.
We certainly don’t worry about others’ uses of our products.
Frankly, we don’t really care how people see us.
Sometimes, I see companies walk back choices when they feel the heat of public scrutiny.
But at the time of original decision-making, those things are inconsequential to us.
Our goal is to make money. If I want to worry about the ethics of a business, I save that for the banana plantation. ”
Cherry reminded him, “It’s not all that different from our business, Ciarán. Our CEO determines the direction of our projects. We trust his intentions are worthy.”
Yeah, he got the message. They trusted God and her, based on recent revelations, to choose jobs that, even though they tread the line of ethically responsible sometimes, were on the side of those who were victimized or exploited.
He turned to her. “Yes. But we don’t assist or supply the military with anything.
I just think it’s messy to do so when it comes to people’s lives and free will.
Not to mention, it sets dangerous precedents.
” He looked again at Zion. “No offense, of course. Just not my mindset. I’m glad I don’t have to make those kinds of decisions. ”
Zion nodded. “Some men are born to lead. To decide. To take risks. Others follow. We can’t all be leaders, or humanity wouldn’t survive very long. We’d destroy each other.”
“Aldous Huxley’s Alphas,” Demon murmured. “There must be a place for everyone, and not everyone can be at the top. The social hierarchy is such that the masses must be the lowest rungs, and the higher you rise, the fewer individuals there are. Only the truly great can rise to the top.”
He knew that Zion believed he was putting Ciarán McCarthy in his place, possibly even belittling him subtly to his wife, and he knew Zion wasn’t completely wrong.
Cherry deserved a powerhouse at her side.
Someone like God, who led with a firm hand and a belief that he was always right.
He was not like that. He knew exactly who he was and where he fell in the food chain of society.
Intellectually, it did not make him less than.
It just put him in a different category.
“Exactly.” Zion unfolded himself from his seat.
“Now, if you will excuse me, I have an important conference call in a few minutes. International business has no set hours, and I’m at the whim of time zones.
Please. Enjoy the evening and your coffee as long as you like.
Rayon will have the staff clear it whenever you’re ready to leave.
It is no inconvenience, as they will probably work into the early morning hours getting ready for the weekend, so do not rush.
“Might I recommend a walk down to the sea before retiring? Very romantic, I’m sure, for a young couple in love, and private.
In the morning, sleep in as the house is likely to enter chaos as the guests arrive and trickle in throughout the day.
Tomorrow’s festivities will begin with cocktails at six thirty, dinner at seven thirty, and the party when dinner winds down. ”
He moved closer to Cherry at her position on the round table and reached for her hand.
“Have a good evening, bèl fi .” He kissed the back of it, glancing at Demon as he held his lips there for just a moment longer than appropriate.
As he rose to his full height, he said, “ I hope you realize what a jewel you’ve gained, Mr. McCarthy.
Our Esme deserves only the finest in life. ” Then he walked back into the house.
The bastard couldn’t resist getting one more dig in, could he?
He wasn’t out of sight for over three seconds when Cherry whispered, “Ick.” She shuddered. “That wasn’t creepy at all. I don’t think he likes my choice of husband.”
“That’s okay,” Demon assured her. “I don’t much like your choice of uncle.”
They looked at each other and grinned.
He placed his napkin on the table and stood, his hand reaching for the one Zion didn’t kiss. “Care for a romantic stroll on the beach, Mrs. McCarthy?”
Cherry put her own napkin on the table and rose to stand at his side. “I would love that, Mr. McCarthy.”
Hand in hand, they exited the patio and followed the path to the stairs that took them down to the beach.
When they reached the bottom, they sat to take off their shoes to avoid getting sand in them.
He had to admit that he felt better with sand under his feet.
He always did. The beach and the ocean were things he understood.
When he finished rolling his pant cuffs several times, he watched Cherry pick up her sandals as if to carry them. “Leave them. No one will bother them here. Probably won’t even see them in the light.”
“Those are expensive shoes,” she told him.
“If they get stolen, I’ll buy you five more pairs. C’mon.” Reaching out his hand, he pulled her to her feet and down toward the surf.
When she hissed at the first step, he pivoted and swept her up in a bridal carry, moving down closer to the water. “One step and you already hit a shell edge? This beach is mostly sand. You need to toughen up,” he teased.
“It was sharp! How come you can walk on them without flinching?”
“My feet are used to it. I spend most of my time barefoot, except at the office. Not every beach is pristine sand. Just be glad it’s not a pebble beach. Ireland is the worst.”
“You can surf in Ireland?”
“You can surf most places. Just depends on what kind of waves you want. Ireland is one of the most challenging. Winds off the Atlantic are brutal. Plus, of course, water temperature.”
When they reached the water, he found he was reluctant to set her down.
Her arms were around his neck, fingers laced beneath his ear, and her attention was completely on his face.
Unfortunately, he didn’t think she’d appreciate him revisiting his caveman impersonation and carrying her throughout their walk down the beach.
He allowed himself the torture of letting her slide down his body slowly, feeling every inch of her as she gained her footing.
Yeah. Selfish and it probably made him a bastard, but he didn’t care.
He put her between him and the waves coming up on the shore.
There were lights in the distance in the public areas, even though the beaches themselves were closed.
Didn’t mean there weren’t still people on them.
Just because he didn’t see any wanderers near them on the private beach didn’t mean he was going to take chances of someone coming at them with no warning.
“Why does the sand look funny?” she asked. “It looks… swirly.”
“We’re on what’s known as Sugar Beach. This used to be a black sand beach, courtesy of the Pitons when they were active.
Volcanic ash made the sand rich with minerals, and the sand turned black.
Unfortunately, when the millionaires decided they wanted swanky resorts here, they filled in the beach with white sand to cater to the moneymen’s fantasies of what a beach should be.
In some places, if the tide conditions are just right, the white sand washes away, revealing the black. Makes it look odd.”
They had walked hand in hand a short way down the beach when suddenly Cherry stopped and put herself up against his chest.
Again, bastard or not, he would not refuse the sudden turn in her mood. “Cold?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her .
“No.” She snuggled in deeper. “We’re being watched. From the gallery. I saw the cigarette glow.”
He allowed his hands to smooth up and down her back, his head tilted down alongside hers. He kissed the side of her head. “Matthew?”
“Rayon, I think. Do you suppose he’s part of the security staff too?”
“Maybe he’s just catching a smoke break before he takes dinner away.”
“I guess. Nothing outward is out of place.” She turned her face up to his. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t either. Promise me you’ll be careful? I’d prefer you weren’t alone with anyone, but obviously, I can’t demand that.”
“Why not?”
He laughed. “Because I don’t want my balls impaled by one of your fancy designer death heels.”
She laughed. “I would never.”
“Mmm. Forgive me if I don’t believe that.
I watched you chuck one at Nemo once for double-dipping in your salsa one time.
” He tightened his hold around her, his mood changing to serious.
“I can’t be with you every second of every day.
As your ‘husband,’ I’ll try, but it’s probably an impossible task.
I know you can take care of yourself, but I don’t trust them around you.
Particularly Zion. He wants you, and he will not take ‘no’ for an answer. ”
“He can want me all he wants, but he can’t have me. I can promise you that.” Her face went soft, and her hand lifted to push a loose lock of his hair behind his ear. “There’s only one man I want. If I can’t have him, I don’t want anyone else.”
Feck. This was dangerous, but he didn’t care. She was opening a door for him. He wasn’t going to just put his foot in the way to stop it from closing. He was going to rip it off the goddamn hinges so it remained open permanently.