Swept into the Rich Man's World(19)

'Why not?'

He put the chest back on the coffee table and reached for his brandy. 'It's too complicated to explain.'

She shuffled in her seat and he glanced at her. He looked away from the disappointment in her face.

She cleared her throat before she spoke. 'I know we're still getting to know one another...but I do want to help.'

He picked up the chest again and twisted it in his hands. Beneath the  silk there was a thick layer of padding. No sharp corners that might  hurt a baby.

'I'm guessing you spent hours making this?'

She tried to shrug it off. 'Not too long-just this afternoon. It was fun to do. But if you don't like it...'

His gaze shot up at the despondency in her voice. A wounded look clouded  her eyes, but she gave him a resigned shrug. As though to say, never  mind.

She had gone to a lot of effort. He wished she hadn't. But she deserved an explanation.

His throat felt peculiarly dry, and he wanted nothing but to get up and  pace. But he forced himself to sit and talk to her, face to face.

'When my dad died Orla went from being outgoing and happy to an angry,  rebellious teenager overnight. I was in my final year of university. I  had already started a few companies on campus, and when I graduated-a  few months after my dad died-I took them off campus and into my own  headquarters. Orla moved to Dublin to live with me. We had no other  family. From day one she fought me. She didn't like the school I  selected for her. Some days I couldn't even get her to go. When she went  out with friends she was constantly home late. Just to rile me, she  started to date a series of unsuitable guys. Her school reports were  appalling. When I tackled her about them she said she didn't care.'

Even remembering those days caused his pulse to quicken. He gritted his teeth and tried to inhale a calming breath.

'She had just lost her dad. School reports were probably way down on her agenda.'

His pulse spiked again. 'Do you think I didn't know that?'

She visibly jumped at his curt tone and he closed his eyes in exasperation.

'I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.'

She nodded her acceptance of his apology and waited for him to continue.

'I could see that she was hurting, but I knew her behaviour was going to  hurt her even more in the long run. I had to stop her. I was, in  effect, her parent. It was my duty to protect her, and I couldn't even  get her out of bed in the morning.'

'But you told me before that you were only twenty-two.'

'That didn't matter.' He had been so full of dreams and ambitions that  didn't involve a stroppy teenager. But he'd loved Orla, they'd had only  one another, and he had given everything to trying to sort her out. Not  that it had worked.

'Of course it mattered. How many twenty-two-year-olds are equipped to  parent a teenager? It was a huge responsibility to take on.'

'What other choice did I have?'

She gave him a sympathetic look. 'I know. But don't downplay what you  had to face. It was huge. Most people that age would have struggled.  Many wouldn't have taken it on.' She paused for a minute, and then said  in a quiet voice, 'It must have been a really difficult time for you  both.'

'Yes, it was. I was getting pressure from her school. Work was crazy. I  had to travel, so I employed a housekeeper-in truth she was a trained  nanny, but I couldn't tell Orla that. She, too, constantly struggled  with Orla. I used to come home from travelling, exhausted, to a sister  who used to yell at me that she hated me. That I wasn't her dad and I  should stop trying to act like it.'

'What did you argue about?'                       
       
           



       

'Everything. Her clothes, her going out, her curfew, the housekeeper... But the biggest thing was her refusal to go to school.'

'Did you consider moving her to a different school? Maybe she wasn't happy there?'

'After the fight I'd had to get her into that school there was no way I  was moving her. It was the best school in Dublin. And she wouldn't even  give it a chance. I told her she had to give it a year, but she wouldn't  listen.'

'What do you mean, it was the best school in Dublin?'

'It was consistently in the top three for academic results in the entire country.'

'Was Orla academic? Are you certain the school suited her?'

He looked skywards. 'She would have been academic if she had applied  herself. Instead she spent her days stockpiling make-up and texting on  her phone. In the end I even moved us to a different part of the city,  where she didn't have as many distractions. I confiscated her phone and  stopped her allowance, but she still fought me all the way.'

'Maybe you should have given her some say in what school she went to.  Included her in the decision-making. She had lost her dad, moved away  from her friends...my guess is she was feeling pretty confused. Did you  both talk through all that?'

'I was up to my eyes with work. And any time we spoke she ended up storming off, refusing to speak to me.'

'When I was that age most sixteen-year-olds I knew were pretty good at looking after themselves and knowing what they needed.'

She paused and rubbed her hands up and down the soft cream wool material of her trousers before giving him a tentative smile.

'I know this is easy for me to say, standing on the outside... Heaven  knows, I'm only too aware how easy it is to get caught up in the messy  dynamics of a relationship...how acute the hurt can be when it's someone  we really care about... It can be hard to think objectively, to  understand where we went wrong, how we could do things differently in  the future.'

Again she paused, and gave him an apologetic smile, as though to  forewarn him that he wasn't going to like what she was about to say.

She inhaled a deep breath. 'But maybe you should have allowed her to  make some of the decisions herself...or made a joint decision. Not you  deciding everything, controlling everything.'

His spine arched defensively at her words. 'I had to protect her.'

'Maybe she needed her big brother more than she needed a father  figure... She was grieving for her dad. She would probably have resisted  anyone who tried taking his place. I know I would.'

Some of what she'd said was starting to make him feel really  uncomfortable. He hated remembering that time-how he'd floundered, the  frustration of knowing he was losing Orla day by day.

As much to her as himself, he said, 'So it was all my fault?'

She moved to the edge of the sofa. 'No. Not at all. You were worried  about her, and understandably wanted to do right by her. Protect her.  But maybe you should have stopped and tried to understand what she  needed, rather than what you thought she needed.'

'Well, she has made it pretty clear that now she needs me out of her  life. Two years ago she left for Madrid, and now she rarely answers my  calls. Before our dad died we were so close-she used to tell me  everything. Now we have nothing.'

'Maybe the baby will bring you both closer?'

He gave a sharp laugh. 'I don't think so. She was over five months  pregnant before I found out. And that was only because I flew over to  see her. She admitted she hadn't planned on telling me. And she wouldn't  tell me who the father is.'

'Why is that of any importance?'

She had to be kidding. 'Because he left her-the coward. And I would like  to have a word with him and set him straight on parental  responsibility.'

At that she smiled, and then her smile broke into laughter. He watched  her, bewildered. And then he got it. He sounded like an old-fashioned  controlling father.

He rolled his eyes. 'Next thing I'll be marching them both up the aisle, a shotgun in my arms.'

This only made her laugh even more. It lifted the whole mood in the room and gave him a little perspective.                       
       
           



       

'Okay, tracking down the father isn't going to be on my list of priorities.'

'Glad to hear it.' Her head tilted and she gave him a small smile. 'I  really admire how you took on the responsibility of caring for Orla. You  did your best in very difficult circumstances. My take on it, for what  it's worth, is that if you stop pushing she'll come back to you. We all  need and want family support. It's not something we naturally walk away  from. And now that Orla is having a baby she needs your support more  than ever before.'

He had to admire her optimism. 'I think things are too fractured for that.'

'You were the one who said you admired me for restarting my business.  How about you try to restart your relationship with Orla? Think about  what you would do differently so that you can have a better relationship  with her.'

She made it sound so simple. 'I don't know... I don't want to upset her at this late stage of her pregnancy.'

'I understand that, but she needs you.'

'Orla wouldn't agree with you, I'm afraid.'

Even he heard the exhaustion in his own voice. He stared up at the  ceiling. His little sister...pregnant. He just couldn't get his head  around it. How would their dad have reacted? He would have worried, but  supported Orla one hundred per cent. His dad had had unconditional love  down to an art form.