The Player and the Pixie(94)

I opened my mouth to confess, but Broderick beat me to it. “Lucy is a compulsive shoplifter and she slept with Sean Cassidy.”

Annie gasped.

I glowered.

Broderick shrugged.

“You were beating around the bush. Now it’s out there and you didn’t have to say it. You’re welcome.”

“Is this true?” Annie asked, her eyes wide with concern.

Concern.

Not judgment.

I sighed dejectedly and flung myself into one of the suite’s club chairs, again burying my face in my hands. “I just tried to steal two hundred euros of golf balls.”

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of golf balls.” Broderick gave a low whistle.

Now I was crying. Not big, gusty sobs crying. Just quiet, I-am-the-worst-person-in-the-world-lament crying. “It’s not really. It’s only about twelve balls. They’re just really expensive here.”

“Okay, wait.” Annie pulled her chair close to mine and gently pulled my hands from my face. She gave me a coaxing smile. “Start from the beginning.”

I gave her a shaky nod then proceeded to spill my guts. I told both her and Broderick everything, the entire saga of Sean Cassidy and Lucy Fitzpatrick, sans the Sean being rubbish in the sack part.

They listened, and Annie wore a thoughtful expression completely free of judgment. It was a world away from how Ronan had stared at me with stunned disbelief, as he somehow came to the conclusion I was in love with Sean.

Was I in love with him?

I rubbed at my chest, where a swelling ache had lingered ever since I left that note for him to find. How could I end things when all I wanted to do was curl myself around him and never let go?

Trying to ignore these perturbing thoughts, I turned back to Annie. “I’m so sorry I made a scene on the eve of your wedding.”

She waved away my apology. “Please. I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

“I have no idea what to do.” I shook my head, new tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.

She pursed her lips, opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Well, I think you should be with Sean, Lucy.”

I opened my mouth to object and she lifted a hand to stop me.

“I understand your reservations. You’re going to have a hell of a time talking Ronan around. He almost burst a blood vessel when I told him I’d invited Sean to the wedding. But, honey, it’s your life. Not Ronan’s. You need to live it and stop worrying so much about what he—or your mother for that matter—thinks about your decisions. You have to trust that Ronan is going to love you no matter what.”

Her response both gave me hope and deflated me. I was happy she thought I should be with him, but depressed she’d echoed my worries over Ronan.

Annie opened her mouth to speak again when an insistent knock sounded at the door. “Lucy, open up,” came Ronan’s stern voice. Annie froze in place.

“The wedding’s tomorrow. You can’t see me, go away,” she called to him, frazzled.

Ronan’s tone softened a little. “I’m sorry, love. Could you go into the other room for a little while? I need to talk to my sister.”

Annie glanced at me in question but I fervently shook my head, sniffing and wiping my nose with the back of my hand. I needed a tissue and a hiding place.

“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually,” she whispered, and I grimaced.

“She’s right. Go talk to your bro,” Rick added, whispering too.

“What are you all whispering about in there? I can hear whispering,” Ronan grumped.

I sighed and said, “Fine, I’ll talk to him. Now you and Rick go hide in the other room.”

They each gave me sympathetic looks before walking through the doorway leading to one of the bedrooms. Once the door was shut, I released a shaky exhale and went to let my brother in. Ronan strode inside with purpose, a foreign restlessness about him as if he didn’t know where to begin.

He shot me a deeply concerned look as he paced.

Unable to take his anxious silence, I blurted, “I’m so sorry.”

He stopped pacing, his eyes narrowed on me as he questioned, “For what?”

I gathered another large inhale and responded on a rush, “I am so sorry for causing the scene downstairs. It’s your wedding tomorrow and I know that was selfish and destructive. I promise, I was so much better. I hadn’t stolen anything in almost six months before the summer. But then I—”

Ronan waved his hands through the air and spoke over me. “Lucy, you have a compulsion. I’m not saying stealing is fine and dandy. I’m saying it’s a problem and it needs to be fixed. Once and for all.”

I nodded contritely and repeated, “I’m so sorry.”