Though he flipped me the bird as easily as I’d done to him—I was his brother, after all—he grumbled, “What are you going to do about little Aoife?”
I squinted at him. “She’s not little.”
That seemed to restore his humor. “I know. Just how you like them.” He shook his head. “You and Conor, I swear. What do you do with them? Drown yourself in their tits?”
Heaving a sigh, I informed him, “My predilection for large tits is none of your business.”
“And whether or not I wore a jimmy last night is none of yours.”
“If it turns green and looks like a moldy corn on the cob, who you gonna call?”
“Ghostbusters?” he tried.
I shook my head, then pointed a finger at him and back at myself. “No. Me.”
Grunting, he got to his feet and pressed his fists to the desk. “We need that building, Finn.”
“The business development plan was mine, Aid. I know we need it. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid.”
He snorted. “Your kind of stupid could go one of two ways.”
That had me narrowing my eyes at him, but he held up his hands in surrender.
“Fuck her out of your system quickly, and then get started on the deal,” he advised. “Best way.”
It probably was the best way, but—
He sighed. “That fucking honor of yours.”
I had to laugh. Only in the O'Donnelly family would my thoughts be considered honorable.
“If I’m fucking someone over, I want them to know it,” was all I said.
“That makes no sense.”
“Makes for epic sex, though,” I jibed, and he shot me a grin.
“Angry sex is always good.” He rubbed his chin, then he reached over again and flipped through the photos. “Who’s the old guy to her?”
“To her? Not sure. Sugar daddy?” The thought alone made the beast inside rage. I cleared my throat to get rid of the rasp there. “To us? He’s our meal ticket.”
Aidan’s eyes widened. “He is?”
I nodded. “Just leave it to me.”
“I was always going to,deartháir.” He tilted his chin at me, honoring me with the Gaelic word for brother. “Be careful out there.”
“You, too, brother.”
Aidan winked at me and, with a far too cheerful whistle for someone whose dick might soon be ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ without the need for a condom, walked out of my office leaving me to brood.
The instant his back was to me, I stared at the photos again. Flipping through them, I glowered at the innocent face staring back at me through the photo paper—if only she knew.
Hers was a building in Hell’s Kitchen. Five Points Territory. One of many on my hit list.
Back in the 70s, Aidan Sr., following in his father’s footsteps, had bought up a shit-ton of property, pre-gentrification, and it was my job to either sell off the portfolio, reconstruct, or ‘improve’ the current aesthetics of the buildings the Points owned.
This particular one was something I’d taken a personal interest in.