Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“I don’t. You do.” He motioned at the older of the two, a woman who could have been anywhere between thirtyfive and fifty-five, though the self-assured way she carried herself made Callie think she fell somewhere on the older end of the spectrum. Her long dark hair didn’t have so much as a hint of gray, but there were faint crow’s-feet fanning out from her green eyes when she smiled.
“Callista, it’s wonderful to see you again.”
Again?
Things fell into place, and the reason the woman looked so familiar became clear. “Mrs. O’Malley.” Teague’s mother.
Which made the other woman—a younger version of her mother, right down to the green eyes—one of Teague’s sisters.
“Oh, no, please call me Aileen. We’re about to be family.” She sailed over and enveloped Callie in a cloud of Chanel No. 5. Her warmth would be significantly more convincing if her daughter didn’t look so shocked by it before she wiped the expression off her face.
Good to know.
She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Of course.” But why were they here? It was poor timing, to say the least, especially with Papa looking like he wanted nothing more than to boot the entire lot of them out of his office.
Aileen must have caught her look. “Carrigan and I are here to help with wedding planning.”
She blinked, the words forming and reforming in her mind as she tried to make sense of them. Wedding planning. They were on the brink of war and these women wanted to drag her off for wedding planning? She shot a look in her father’s direction. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“Of course. Your wedding is less than four weeks away.” Aileen’s sharp look at Papa was enough to tell everyone in the room what she thought of the accelerated timeline. “I’d be a poor mother if I didn’t ensure that the first of my brood to marry had the wedding of his dreams.”
Considering she knew Teague hadn’t chosen this wedding any more than she had—and they were on the verge of all-out war—the statement bordered on preposterous. “Perhaps we can reschedule? I have a meeting with my father—”
“Your father has assured me that you have no plans for the day. Carrigan, why don’t you help Callista pick out something a bit more appropriate to wear while I discuss the budget with Colm?”
Which was how Callie found herself being escorted out of her father’s office and getting the door slammed in her face. She glared at the heavy wood for a long moment before remembering that she wasn’t alone in the hall. “Is your mother always so…?”
“She gets what she wants, when she wants it. Even our father doesn’t cross her.” Carrigan shrugged. “You can try to get out of what she has planned today, but I wouldn’t bet against her.”
Frustration threatened to choke her. There were so many more important things to be worried about right now. War. Threats from the Hallorans. The future of the Sheridans with her at the helm. The wedding didn’t even place top ten. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds and then releasing it. The frustration didn’t disappear, but it was manageable now. She knew better than to fight battles she wouldn’t win, and she definitely didn’t want to cause any tension with the O’Malleys. It was more than potentially alienating a future mother-in-law. They were allies against the Hallorans and any other threat that arose—allies that, frankly, Callie’s people needed.
Which meant she had to spend today doing mindless errands like picking out flowers and deciding on catering.
She opened her eyes to find Carrigan watching her closely. The woman was as beautiful as her mother—possibly even more so. She had the kind of flawless bone structure that would last through the years, her softness burning away to leave only steel in its wake. Callie recognized it because her mother had had the same thing. She’d like to think she did as well, but she was hardly unbiased. “I need twenty minutes.” It would be cutting it close, but she refused to leave the house without at least a shower.
Especially since she swore she could smell Teague on her skin.
“I’ll stall her, but you should hurry.”
She hurried.
Twenty-two minutes later, she was back downstairs, showered and dressed in a pair of slacks and a silk shirt. Aileen swept a quick look over her. “You’ll do.”
Callie tamped down on her irritation. She’d dealt with women like Aileen O’Malley before, though most of them didn’t actually have the power they seemed to think they possessed. Aileen actually did.
So she smiled and followed the woman out to the limo parked in front of the house. Five minutes in her future mother-in-law’s presence, and she was already exhausted. The woman might smile and fawn when it suited her, but it had to be a mask. Callie had met Seamus O’Malley, and he was the kind of person who chewed up everyone around him and left them bleeding in his wake if they weren’t strong enough to endure.