Page 70 of Quinn, By Design

“She said I turned her into a thief.” Whereas for a man who insisted his self-respect was inviolable, he’d made her question the honesty of every moment they’d shared, and triggered an old pain.

Liam whistled.

“Can I refuse this bequest too?”

“I asked if there were other codicils? He suggested there might be a series of escalating offers, each more valuable than the last. Then he smiled, part white-pointer shark and part guppy.”

“That can’t be legal.” Niall raised his jar to his mouth then set it down untouched. “Can it?”

“I’ve not come across something like this before.” His brother drummed his fingers on the table. “I did say there were no witnesses.”

“Why is she doing this?” Niall rose to pace his small kitchen, struggling to reconcile the Lucy who was careful with money to the profligacy of this potentially endlessly rising offer.

“You’ve given notice that you’re leaving in a few weeks, leaving you without a home or a workshop. You’ve cancelled the exhibition and rejected secure employment with the foundation. You’ve beggared yourself and made her feel responsible.” Liam took a small sip of his drink.

“I didn’t want her to think I was hanging on to the foundation because of the money. Without the exhibition, I’m not mentor material.” Niall returned to the table, picked up the drink, stared once more at its contents, and set it down.

“Do you blame Lucy for losing the exhibition?” Liam asked.

“She asked if I was aiming for sainthood or martyrdom.” Niall scrubbed his face. “Anna says we get that from Da.”

“If you said Lucy was stupidly rich and you couldn’t be her pet poodle, then I’m not surprised.” His brother toasted him, then downed another mouthful of fine whiskey. “You’ve made her wealth the issue, and she was supposed to hear ‘I love you’?”

“She’s terrified of debt, of not being in control, yet she risked ruining herself to have twenty-four-seven, hospital-in-the-home care when Cam got ill.” Niall was missing something.

“Offering you fifty K puts a lot of money in play now.”

“I’ve got it all wrong.” Niall slammed his fist into his other palm.

“You’re alone with that, boyo, because I’m always right.”

“We’d need years to list all your wrong decisions, but I’m happy to make a start.” Niall allowed himself to be momentarily distracted.

Liam splashed more water into Niall’s whiskey. “Okay, I’ve made the odd mistake.”

“I didn’t follow up for Da, because I was basking in the glory of the mentorship.” Niall scratched at the old scar. Liam, meanwhile, had been paying their father’s debts to let Niall finish his mentorship and build a career in Ireland. Liam’s sacrifice hadn’t been Niall’s first seed of self-doubt, but guilt had landed in fertile ground.

“For the love of Mary and Joseph, we dealt with that. We did. There’s something you’re not telling me about Ireland.” His brother visibly scrolled through his prodigious memory. “You were coming home with a woman and then you weren’t. We weren’t talking enough then for me to ask why.”

“Sinead changed her mind.”

“Why?” His brother had honed his cross-examination skills since childhood. He practised silence as torture.

“She said I only cared about the craft and the glory, never mind food on the table. She was right. I wasn’t about to give up my dream for anyone, even the woman I planned to marry,” Niall said. Her words were the poison he’d tried and failed to dislodge from his mind, feeding his doubt about his grand plan for his future.

“What else?” his brother demanded.

“What do you mean, ‘what else’? Isn’t that enough?” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“You’ve never mentioned her, so you can’t have been too desperately in love with her. I’m guessing there was a sting in the tail.”

“She called me a ‘fuck buddy,’ said I’d make a better living selling sex instead of furniture.” Confiding in his brother lessened the horror somehow.

“And Lucy’s paying you for sex.” Liam’s expression was flat.

“She’s wealthy. I’m living rent free in a property she owns,” he let fly. It sounded crazy saying it aloud. But Niall had been weary in body and soul when he’d arrived back in Australia, and seeking to find his balance ever since. “And that’s insulting to both of us. But what the hell does it look like?”

“You tell me.” His brother’s steady gaze locked onto his.

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