2. Cillian
two
Cillian
The Same Night
I both love and dread these dinners.
My family is everything, I love seeing them. On the other hand, I sometimes feel invisible. Overshadowed by my brothers’ towering achievements.
Bounding up the concrete stairs to my parents’ Craftsman mansion on Capitol Hill, I’m exhausted from a last-minute scramble to resolve a sudden crisis at one of my construction sites. From the time I can remember, I dreamed of running my family’s business, McGloughlin Construction.
Truth be told, I had no idea how the constant demands and pressures would weigh me down some days.
It’s a pleasant, early summer Seattle evening, the warm glow of the sun radiates off the large windows. Inside, I can see it’s already buzzing in the spacious dining room where my ma has prepared a lavish dinner to celebrate my oldest brother Connor and his wife Ronni. They’re having another wee baby in a few months.
Connor is the bass player in Seattle’s most famous band, Less Than Zero. Ronni is an actress and producer and is, arguably, more famous. Aside from their security detail, who largely remain in the shadows, neither of them are precious about their celebrity status, thank God.
I open the door and survey the scene. Twins Liam and Padraig are also rockstars. Their band Fireball is not as famous as LTZ, but are critically acclaimed in their own right. They’re chatting with Seamus, our youngest sibling. He’s a surgical resident, fresh from a hospital shift. He’s still in scrubs and looks like he’s about to fall asleep standing up.
“Where’ve you been?” Brennan, a year younger than me, is the founder of an Artificial Intelligence tech company. He slams an arm around my shoulder like he hasn’t seen me in weeks.
I hug him back. “Ah, work stuff.”
“You okay?” He tilts his head and scrutinizes me. “Need to talk?”
I love Brennan, he and I have always been like two peas in a pod. We’re Irish twins, after all. Sometimes he needs to back off, though. “I’m fine, you’ve got to quit worrying. I’ve got everything under control.”
My da spots us and sidles over. Brennan tenses but pastes a smile on his face. All of my brothers but me have a love/hate relationship with him.
Somehow, I seem to understand my father. Empathize, maybe.
Rory McGloughlin founded McGloughlin Construction shortly after he immigrated from Northern Ireland. With his hard work ethic and quick wit, he turned it into a powerhouse—until a car accident nearly killed him and threw our family into turmoil.
At eighteen, Connor was forced to run the company he hated to keep the family afloat. He sacrificed college and pursuing his own music dreams for years so all of his brothers could finish high school and attend college.
Meanwhile, my father was in constant pain. He turned mean. Really fucking mean. Depression led him to struggle with alcohol and he developed a gambling addiction that nearly bankrupted the company and our family .
Right around that time, Connor hired Jennifer Deveraux, his then-girlfriend, to help out with the business. At first I was pissed, I’d been working part-time for years and wanted to run McLoughlin Construction myself. Connor wouldn’t hear of it but promised I’d have a bigger role once I obtained my BA in Construction Management from the University of Washington. Seemed like a decent compromise to me.
By the time I was in my senior year of college, Da sobered up enough for Connor to feel comfortable following his dream of touring with LTZ and managing things from afar—with the idea Jen and I would serve as backup to keep an eye on Da. Of course, none of us could have predicted his band exploding into the stratosphere. Connor did his best, but was gone for two years solid with only a couple of visits in between.
Needless to say, Da relapsed and Jen and I were faced with the same issues Connor dealt with. Jen wanted out and my ma threatened to move back to Ireland.
It was a wake-up call for my father. He became serious about his sobriety and McGloughlin Construction. Although his health conditions continued to dog him, Da turned things around for himself. The company thrived and, to make amends for his years of neglect, he gifted all of us a townhouse in one of his developments. At that point, Connor turned the company back over to him and Da brought me in as CEO on my twenty-fifth birthday.
Unfortunately, because Da’s behavior had been abhorrent for years, it took a while for my brothers to forgive him—but they haven’t forgotten. There’s still a rumbling of resentment every so often.
Not from me, though.
In my eyes, Da is a hero. His entire world was ripped out from under him at thirty-eight, which is hard for me to comprehend. He fought through injuries, addiction, and PTSD, only to nearly be felled by a stroke and a substantial stint in a rehab clinic not too long ago. Now he’s tackled his demons and is stronger than ever, both emotionally and physically. Our family means everything to him and he’s been an incredible mentor to me personally.
For the past decade, I’ve worked side by side with my da and have seen firsthand how a strong work ethic and high standards are the backbone of every successful company. He taught me the construction business was more about relationships than bricks and mortar.
“Making every client feel like the most important person in the room is the real secret to a profitable business,” he’ll say.
Over the years, despite my own social anxiety, I’ve taken his advice to heart. Even with the pressures of running a multimillion-dollar business, McGloughlin Construction is my life. I love it—I’ve dedicated all my time into making it more and more successful and I take great pride in my work ethic. My ability to forge instant connections to turn lucrative deals into lifelong partnerships has been instrumental in getting us to where we are now.
Da is semi-retired now, though he stays in the know on all our projects and helps out on occasion.
“Cillian, you made it, so you did. Tell me about the new shipping project. Have you heard if we got it?” Da’s eyes shine with excitement.
I shake my head. “Nah, I still have a ton of pre-interview paperwork to complete. There’s all sorts of environmental and tribal considerations since it’s on the Duwamish river. I’m not meeting with the guy until later this summer anyway.”
“You’re always prepared.” Da slaps me on the back. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll get the job.”
Connor, Ronni, and my ma emerge from the kitchen, each carrying serving dishes heaping with utterly delicious-smelling grub. My stomach growls. “Need any help?”
“Aye, lad. Will you grab the colcannon? It’s on the counter.” Ma’s brogue is still as thick as though she lives in Northern Ireland. I find myself speaking like her from time to time.
All of us do, I reckon.
Sitting around the dining table, we pass thick slices of fresh brown soda bread to go with the lamb stew and buttery mashed potatoes with kale. Amidst vivid tales of my brothers’ success, which eclipses mine by a mile—three famous rockstars, Seamus’s surgical miracles, and Brennan’s tech innovations, I find myself longing to chill with two fingers of Midleton.
There’s no alcohol in this house anymore, for obvious reasons. Most of my brothers don’t partake, but it’s never been a problem for me. Besides, I’d never put my father’s sobriety at risk by bringing my own bottle, though.
Hmmm . After dinner, I think I’ll head over to Kells, a local Irish pub at Pike Place Market. It’s only a few blocks away from my loft and has a great selection of Irish whiskey. I love that it’s in a tourist area—makes it easy to hook up with an out-of-towner who’s down for a quick fuck without any commitment. My ideal situation, always.
I’m too busy for anything more.
Yeah. I’m definitely in the mood to get laid. Shit, it’s been a couple of months. Catching a nice little buzz and sinking my cock into a beautiful woman’s sweet heat will definitely take the edge off.
As the evening begins to wind down, I’m ready to execute my plan, but Brennan catches me by the elbow, guiding me away from the others into the quiet of the living room. His voice is low and serious. “Cillian, hang back a sec. Da interrupted us before— Is everything alright? ”
“Yeah, of course.” I hesitate, the concern in his eyes seems to come from nowhere. “Why do you keep asking me?”
“You didn’t speak much at dinner. It looked and felt like you’d rather have been anywhere but here.” He crosses his arms.
I’m taken aback. “Where’s this coming from? With everyone here tonight, it’s hard to get a word in edgewise.”
“I guess, um… Look, you’re expanding the business fast.” He grips my shoulder. “You and I hardly hang out anymore and I want to make sure you’re holding up okay. We saw how things got with Dad. Be mindful, alright?”
His words piss me off because, unlike Da, I’ve never done anything to jeopardize McGloughlin Construction. Who is he to judge? I’m not about to pick a fight with my brother, though. “Thanks, Bren. I’ll keep your concerns in mind.”
Now, I really need a drink. I hate rehashing our family history.
Brennan claps my shoulder then squeezes it reassuringly. “All I’m saying is we’re all here for you, not just for the good times. Don’t shoulder it all alone.”
Jesus. Whatever .
Rejoining the family in the living room, we land in the middle of Seamus recounting a run-in with his new boss. The laughter and stories continue but Brennan’s words linger, reminding me of the delicate balance I must maintain keeping my family and personal life separate.
It’s time for me to go.
“Everyone, I’m gonna head out.” I scoot to the foyer.
“What’s the rush, Kill? Got a hot date or something?” Connor raises an eyebrow with a knowing grin.
Seamus, snickers. “He’s always sneaking off—probably leading a double life we know nothing about!”
“Oh, let the boy have his secrets; everyone needs a bit of mystery.” Ma joins in with a playful twinkle in her eye.
Liam nudges Padraig. “Yeah, Kill’s the mysterious one.”
Their laughter and lighthearted slags fill the room, and while I know everyone’s being playful by trying to pry a bit of information out of me, I’m annoyed.
Though he’s amused by the family’s banter, Da gets me. He catches my eye and nods toward the door, releasing me.
I step outside into the cool air and feel an immediate sense of relief.
A hour later, I’m sitting alone at the bar in Kells as three shots warm my system. I nurse a glass of Red Breast, relishing how the smooth liquid coaxes the tension from my shoulders. I find such peace in a buzz from the alcohol. For the first time today, my mind settles and I can simply exist.
Only one thing could improve my evening. It’s time to find my fuck-buddy—a woman who won’t expect more than a few orgasms, which I’m more than happy to provide.
Looking around, no one catches my eye. I’m patient, though.
I’ve got all night.