Page 24 of An Angel's Share
I hope he doesn’t get too close, he might smell the sex on me. I can almost taste Jonno’s scent. But maybe that’s my overinflated sense of smell at the minute. Yum, Jonno. His scent is powering through loud and clear. Cardamom and Bergamot.
My eyes must haze over, as Liam asks, “Are you okay darling? You seemed to drift off.”
“I’m a bit tired, to be honest. Trying to keep up with Marshall and my dad is hard work. I think I’ll head up for a short nap. You go ahead, Liam. I’m sure Mammy will love your company.”
I see Liam's face twist a bit at that, but as Jonno pipes up, it changes to a snarl.
“Is it drinks in the library Liam? I think I’ll join you. Is Marshall there, do you know?”
“Probably. He and Seamus seem to be joined at the hip,” he states dismissively. Will he not learn?
I roll my eyes. “Daddy does love Marshall, and he likes to make the most of him whilst he’s here.” I don’t know why I seem to feel the need to cover for the arsehole that is Liam, but it’s getting to be a habit, and I want to break it.
“I’m sure that’s what Liam meant,” Jonno deadpans, his face a total mask.
Liam practically sneers, “Obviously. I wouldn't want to upsetthemaster blender.O’Cleryscan’t afford for him to leave.”
“Too fucking right. It really wouldn’t survive that. Would it, Patrick?” Jonno raises his voice as Patrick comes to join in.
“What’s that?” he asks, his jovial manner not washing off even a little on these two.
“You can’t afford to piss Marshall off. The whiskeybusiness needs him.” Jonno is staring intently at them. What is he doing? He’s being so aggressive.
“Oh God, he’s not leaving is he? I mean, the young guy we have is great. I’ve trained him up myself. He could easily take over from Uncle Marshall. He’s got loads of new ideas, new flavours for us to invest in.”
Jonno’s face seems to get blanker. Not a flicker of emotion in those normally expressive eyes. They look dead. Black holes in his head.
Patrick is still twittering on, completely oblivious. “Didn’t you poach him from a London gin distillery, Liam? He was a friend of yours, wasn’t he?”
Patrick’s face suddenly falls, taking on a much more serious demeanor. “Oh God, if Marshall leaves, it might mean we have Marshall's daughter turning up to take over. No offence, Jonno, but she hardly knows anything about the whiskey business. It’ll be a disaster, kill all we’ve achieved. Maybe I can talk him into passing his shares on to me. I am the natural successor.”
He grins widely at us all. Every cloud in Patrick’s life has a silver lining. There’s good to be found in any disaster. A flood? Don’t worry, we’ll all learn to swim. Famine? Don’t worry, we all needed to lose weight. The man is irrational in his positivity. It’s a curse with him.
“And I’m sure she will be too busy with all her kids and husbands,” snipes Liam.
I’m shocked. What the hell is Patrick saying? He is crazy. Successor to whom? Achieved what? How to run a business into the ground. Does he not know how bad things are? Is he so focused on the gloss he hasn’t even looked underneath the hood.
I’ve gone red in the face and am just about to launch athim, when I feel Jonno put his hand on my arm to stop me. He shakes his head ever so slightly.
“Be careful what you wish for, Patrick. If you want rid of Marshall, fair enough. But he wouldn’t sign his share over to you. It will go to Evie, and you would not survive her, her kids, or her husbands. I’d pray for Marshall to stay, if you’re smart.”
Turning to me, his voice gentles. “Aoife, go up into the house. Get some rest. I’ll get tea sent up for you. Are you hungry? Do you need to eat?”
My insides glow, even in the face of Patrick's foolish statements, and Liam's nasty ones. Even when he’s being a bastard to everyone, Jonno’s watching out for me. My head is all over the place with him. How does he do that? But I can’t deny I like it. He’s taking care of me. Putting me first regardless of any situations. Me, Aoife—and baby, of course—first. I like it.
“A sandwich, please. Ham and cheese. I’ll have forty winks and be down for dinner.”
“More food darling? Surely you can wait?—”
I walk away. Turn on my heel and strut off into the house. My blood starts to boil with Liam. Fuck him.
“Darling? darling!” I carry on walking as he runs and catches me up. “Don’t walk away, darling.”
He pulls on my arm and I stop and turn, ready to blast the dipstick. Who the hell does he think he is? “Don’t tell me what to do. And don’t tell me what to eat. It’s none of your business what I do. If I want food, I’ll get it.”
“I’m just trying to ensure you’re healthy,” he counters, but I can see in his eyes he doesn’t mean it.
“Fuck your healthy,” I shout, pointing my index finger into his chest.
