Babysitting a Billionaire 3 : Taking Control(22)
"She is?" That was a first.
"Yes, and she's bringing Penny with her."
"What? Why the hell would she do that?"
"I invited her," he said, then hesitated a moment before continuing, "I'm worried about you."
"And how does inviting my ex-fiancé to your birthday make me any safer?" Maybe he should lay off the scotch.
"I don't mean the case." His dad shifted from foot to foot as though uncomfortable. "You need a life outside the business."
"I'm fine," he ground out.
"You're far from fine. You're a goddamn robot, Declan."
His jaw clenched. He'd done everything the family wanted of him and this was what they thought of him? Something occurred to him then. "Is that why you threw Jessica at me?"
"Maybe."
Declan shook his head. "The scourge of the East End of London turned matchmaker." It seemed inconceivable.
At the door his father turned back. "But it worked. It's good to finally see some sign that you're actually human, even if it has taken a bullet and a bomb. Your mother will be pleased. I'll see you at the club."
"Okay. I'm going to check into the hotel first, get Grunt settled." His apartment had been trashed. The damage from the explosion had been relatively small, but a fire had broken out and the smoke damage was extensive.
As the door closed behind them Declan poured himself another scotch, sat back in his chair, and considered the conversation. What the bloody hell did his mother have to do with it?
…
Jess had a certain sense of déjà vu as the taxi deposited them outside the nightclub. This was where she'd had that final showdown with Rory McCabe all those years ago.
The place was closed, but Dave tapped on the door, and it opened within seconds. A man stood there. He was huge, a slab of steroid-induced muscle, his black T-shirt stretched tight over bulging chest. One of Rory's bouncers. He looked over them briefly and then stood aside to let them in.
They followed him through into the main area with the large dance floor and podiums scattered about. She'd danced on one of those podiums the night she'd met Declan. The place hadn't changed at all, though it appeared different in daylight, the blinds open.
They passed the table where she'd had her last confrontation with Rory McCabe, but they didn't pause. Instead, they followed the man through a door in the far wall and into a private area with a table set for lunch. Three places.
Rory McCabe was seated at one of them, facing the door. He looked so like his son that a shiver ran down her spine. She would do well to remember the relationship. Rory was a hard-nosed bastard, and while Declan had a veneer of civilization, underneath she was guessing he was just the same. From her research, she had learned that the business was totally legit, but no one was that successful without a ruthless streak. Rory rose to his feet as they entered, his lips twitching as he caught sight of Dave and Steve behind her. "You brought your own bodyguards. I assure you, you're quite safe here."
She ignored the comment. "This is Dave Grantham and Steve Forrest. They'll be working on Declan's team if we take the job."
He nodded and spoke to the young man who'd led them here. "Could you set the table for two more and inform the kitchen."
She gave her best insincere smile. "I hope we haven't inconvenienced you."
"Why do I get the impression you don't give a damn if I'm inconvenienced?"
She didn't answer, just shrugged and stepped aside as the young man pulled up two extra chairs and repositioned the others. She took one, leaving a gap between her and Rory. Steve hesitated a second, then took that seat, and Dave took the one on her other side. Maybe they'd sensed some animosity between her and the older man.
"Drinks?" Rory asked waving a hand at his own glass of scotch. "I remember you had a thing about my malt scotch."
No way was she touching the stuff today. She wanted a clear head. "Water will be fine."
Rory raised an eyebrow but took his seat and studied her. "You're not at all what I expected you to become."
"Really?" She kept her tone disinterested. She had a good idea what he'd expected her to become. He'd made that clear at their last meeting.
"Actually, I like the scar." He gave a small smile. "Gives you character."
She smiled sweetly; she'd been practicing. "That's nice. I aim to please."
Beside her, Steve choked on a mouthful of water, and she reached across and patted him on the back.
Rory's eyes narrowed on the movement. "So," he said, "I hear you went back to see Declan yesterday and I know you stayed for a while."
He didn't sound too bothered by the idea. Had she suddenly become acceptable? "Still spying on him?"