Page 11 of Mob Star

“You’re one to talk. All our names are old-fashioned, even if they’ve only become popular again in America in the last thirty years.”

“Sure. But my name doesn’t make someone assume I’m eighty.”

“No. But your name is the equivalent of an Irish Chad.”

“If I’m a fecking Chad, then you’re a damn Irish Brad.”

We look at each other. We are hardly either of those. We might be white and started out middle class, but that’s about as far as we resemble mediocre frat boys still trying to live out college glory days from a decade ago. No dad bods among us. No dads among us. Though, with the way Dillan and Mair are, it wouldn’t surprise me if we aren’t throwing a baby shower in a few months. It’s a good thing she’s Protestant, and we’re loose Catholics. Birth control is a must.

“Hello?” Shane snaps his fingers at me.

“I have more important things to think about than your gossiping. I need to sort out how much to pay our agents to make a move on Marco sooner. I want this done within the month.”

“It will be. Chill.”

“Get your money, little brother.”

“Sure, capitaine.”

The mob doesn’t have the same structure as the other syndicates. At some point way back when, someone thought nautical terms would be a good way to distinguish rank. Dillan fucking loathes being called Skipper. He says it reminds him of Gilligan’s Island.

I look over at Thea. If we’re on Gilligan’s Island, then she’s definitely Ginger. I watch her talking to Mair, and I remember Dillan saying his wife reminds him of Mary Ann. I try to appear casual, like I have a reason to be behind the bar again. I pull some bottles out and get the Sharpie from the till. We have the modern touchless payment processors, but the cash register is a holdover from Nana’s days. It’s more memorabilia than functional.

I stand a few feet from where the women are chatting, and I busy myself marking the liquid lines on the bottles. I like to see just how much liquor goes every night. Shannon should be doing this. It was these markers that told me the liquor was going down too fast from her heavy-handed pours.

That reminds me. I have to pay her dad a visit. He’s still actively working for us. He drives a garbage truck and hauls large items people put out at the curb. If it’s worth anything, he sells it and tithes to us. If it’s not, we take it as a charitable contribution. If he’d like to have a job tomorrow morning, he’ll make sure his daughter understands how it goes when you work for the O’Rourkes. We aren’t tyrants… As long as you obey.

I catch part of what Thea says to Mair.

“They seem really close. You said you’re just filling in for today. Are they always together?”

Mair laughs. “More often than not. My husband and Finn are best friends. You’ve seen Sean and Shane, the twins. And I heard you met Cormac and Seamus, who are Irish twins. Dillan, my husband, and Finn are the ones without a matched pair. They became each other’s pair when they were kids.”

“Your husband?”

I can see from the reflection of a mirror across the bar that she turns her head slightly to see me. I pretend to be absorbed with my task. Thea’ll clam up if she knows I’m listening. I’m certain Mair knows I have the same keen hearing her husband does.

“Yeah. Finn and Dillan are cousins. Dillan and I got married about two months ago.”

“So, you and Finn never…”

“Good God, no. He’s hot like the rest of them, but he’s like a brother. Besides, my husband would throttle Finn if he came near me like that. They might share most things, but not women.”

At least, not these days. Mair knows about a girl from the block who we’re all intimately acquainted with. It was back in high school, but she worked at one of our strip clubs until she picked a fight with Mair, and Mair kicked her arse. Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But Mair had Maureen pinned to the floor until Dillan and I and the others rushed in. Considering how Mair handled things the next time she had to defend herself, Mo was damned lucky she left with all her teeth.

“That’s sweet. The part about you being close to your husband’s family and how he sounds just the right amount of possessive.”

“He is. He’s the hottest of the six of them, though none of them agrees with me. He’s wonderful.”

“You really are newlyweds.”

Mair laughs. “Have you been married before?”

“No. But I have married friends. I remember going through the bridesmaid circuit about five years ago. All my friends sounded like you.”

“Do they still sound like me?”

Thea’s cheeks darken in that adorable way I’ve noticed a few times. It’s not a full blush. It’s just at the apple of her cheek. I still want to know what she’d look like flushed right after she comes on my tongue or my cock.

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