Against All Odds Read online

  “I slept well too.” He sat with a straight back and kept his elbows off the table. He was quiet most of the time, but the silence wasn’t strained. A companionable relationship had developed between us. I saw him as a friend as well as my boss. I was lucky we got along so well.

  “Do you want to order some prunes?” I teased.

  He smirked at my comment. “No, thank you. This coffee keeps me regular.”

  I finished my bacon then moved onto my toast. “British food is pretty good.”

  “You know what my favorite thing to eat in Ireland is?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Ice cream. It’s the best—I swear.”

  “The best?” I questioned. “I don’t know… Ben and Jerry’s is pretty good.”

  He gave a hearty laugh. “That processed corporate garbage? No, this ice cream is fresh, churned, and simply exquisite.”

  “Now I may have to try some…”

  “Ireland is such a beautiful place. The castles are remarkable, the pastures are gorgeous, and the coast is beautiful. It’s usually pretty windy along the coast, but the view is still worth seeing. And everyone is so spread out that you usually feel alone. There’s no other place like it…”

  When he spoke about his homeland, it sounded like he missed it. It made me wonder why he wouldn’t just move back. I know he said work was hard to come by, but it seemed like he really wished he were there. “Do you like New York?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “There’s nothing on the compliment more opposite than Ireland, but it has its own beauty. The skyline itself is worth a trip. And I can’t count the number of time I ordered sushi at three in the morning while I was working. You can’t find service like that anywhere else.”

  “I really like it. I’ll never live anywhere else.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  “I mean, I want to explore the world and see new places, but New York is my home. It’ll always be my home. I liked the packed streets and foot-traffic. I like the sweltering humid heat in the summer, and the biting cold in the winter. I love everything about it.”

  “Your house in Connecticut reminds me of my family’s place in Ireland a little bit.”

  “Yeah, my folks are a little isolated from everything. My uncle lives just down the road.”

  “Your parents must do alright,” he said. He didn’t ask what they did for a living or how rich they were. It was a compliment, but he wasn’t prying. Most of the time, people wanted all the details.

  “My dad makes a good living. My mom doesn’t work.” I remembered her reaction every time I said that. “Sorry, she works from home and does her own thing, but her income is negligent to my father’s.”

  “I’m sure she still contributes.”

  “Well, she does the laundry and clean the house. We had a maid a while ago, but my mom hated having help. She said she detested it and felt pretentious.”

  “Your mom sounds down-to-earth.”

  I shrugged. “She’s alright.”

  “Growing up at the beach must have been nice.”

  “No complaints,” I said. “But I got sunburned more times than I can count.”

  “But you must have been really tan.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t worth it. My nose always peeled.”

  “Yeah, that’s the worst.” He drank his coffee then returned it to the table. He never asked what my dad did for a living. It was so unusual that I found it off. I didn’t want an excuse to brag, but his lack of curiosity was really confusing.

  “My dad is the owner of Pixel Software.”

  He didn’t react. He kept eating then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That’s cool. Did he inherit it?”

  “Pretty much. My grandpa gave it to him when he retired. Now my sister is getting it…when she gets her shit together.”

  He finished his plate then left his napkin on the table. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why aren’t you taking it over?”

  “I don’t want to,” I said simply. “Running a corporation has never interested me.”

  He stared at me with unreadable eyes. They were blue and bright, but dark at the same time. One hand rested on the table, and his fingers drummed the surface lightly. If my response interested him, he didn’t show it. “Most people would have jumped at the chance if it was given to them.”

  I shook my head. “It’s so boring to me. My sister has been interested since we were little. I think she’ll do a good job after she…deals with her issues.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s going through a bad breakup…and getting back together with him at the same time.”

  The corners of his mouth upturned in a smile. “I’ve heard a lot of descriptions of dysfunctional relationships, but that has to be the most complicated one I’ve ever heard.”

  “It is complicated.” I launched into an account of the story.

  “Wow…that’s a lot to deal with,” he said with a sigh.

  “My sister is stupid and never should have pulled the number. I don’t blame Cayson for being so mad.”

  “I don’t either but…she did make a huge sacrifice just for him to be happy. If that’s not the biggest gesture of love, I don’t know what is.”

  “No, she’s just dumb.”

  “Not close with your sister, huh?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Not really. We see each other but we never hang out one-on-one. We just have a lot of mutual friends. Sometimes we have our moments, but for the most part, we don’t lean on each other.”

  “It seems like siblings get closer when they move out of the house,” he said. “Perhaps that’ll happen for you.”

  “I doubt it. My friends are my family.”

  The check came and Heath put the business credit card inside. “Thank you, Knockout.”

  I chuckled. “That meal was very generous of them.”

  He stood up then adjusted his jacket. “Ready to get to work?”

  “Yep.”

  ***

  When we arrived at the building, it was taped off. Heath held up a badge and was allowed to get inside. I followed close behind him. The bomb had caused a fire inside and damaged most of the building. Smoke stains were on the walls that stood, and most of the items inside were ash.

  Heath tracked down a few people and asked a few questions. He had a tape recorder and used that to save their responses. I explored the rest of the building then found the evidence tapped off. The bomb case was still there, barely distinguishable, and Arabic writing was on the side. I couldn’t make it out. I could barely write English as it was, let alone a different language.

  “I got a lot of stuff.” Heath came behind me then clapped me on the shoulder. “The article pretty much wrote itself.”

  “Sweet,” I said. “Check this out.”

  He looked at the case from across the yellow tape. “Crazy…”

  “How many people died in the explosion?” I whispered.

  “Ten,” he said sadly.

  “Why were they attacked?” I asked.

  “The magazine published articles and cartoons that weren’t flattering to the terrorists.”

  “So they were killed?” I asked incredulously.

  “Sad, isn’t it?” He sighed in sadness. “They were just expressing their freedom of speech and opinion. For that, they lost their lives.”

  I stared at the ground, feeling hollow.

  “It makes you appreciate the freedoms you have, huh?”

  “Yeah…”

  He studied me for a moment. “That’s why I’ll make this article the best I can, to show these terrorists that people can’t be bullied into keeping their mouth shut.”

  My thoughts were swirling a million miles an hour.

  “You okay, Ro?” He clapped my shoulder.

  My thoughts were shattered. “I just…feel sad.”

  “I know what you mean…” He put his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s
get out of here and enjoy the sunshine.”

  I silently agreed and walked with him.

  ***

  How’s it going over there? Dad had been checking on my constantly.

  Fine. We visited the place and have everything we need for the article. You can stop checking on me now.

  I’ll always check on you, Ro.

  I didn’t respond in the hope the conversation would be dropped.

  Still wearing that watch?

  Sometimes I wanted to smack him. I promised I wouldn’t take it off. Stop riding my ass.

  Let me know when you get on the plane. He didn’t say anything else.

  Heath watched me from across the table. “Parents giving you a hard time?”

  “How’d you know?” I left the phone on the table.

  “I can tell by the annoyed look on your face.”

  “They’re just so overprotective sometimes. They’ve always been like that with my sister, but I thought I would escape their craziness because I’m a man.”

  “Nope,” he said. “Parents will do what they do best: worry.”

  “I’m catching onto that…”

  “Consider yourself lucky. There are parents out there that don’t care about their kids, only themselves.”

  Since Heath wrote a lot of political stories, he’d probably seen a lot of dark things. His perspective on the world was a lot different than mine. I’d come from the top one percent of the country where my biggest worry was how to get away from my parents. After what I’d just seen, it made me feel like a brat. “You’re right,” I said with a sigh.

  “I know,” he said smugly. “Any reason why your father gave you his watch? Does it have sentimental value?”

  I felt it with my fingers. “No, it’s just a watch he wears. He gave it to me because it has some kind of alarm on it. If I’m in danger, I’ll have to do is touch a button and a swarm of tactical protectors will come to my aid.”

  “Wow…does he have a lot of enemies.”

  “Not that I know…but he’s always been paranoid.”

  “Maybe he isn’t paranoid,” Heath noted.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe there’s more to his life than he lets one.” He shrugged. “He’s one of the richest men in the world. Being at the top means you have a lot of people below you…and people don’t like to be at the bottom.”

  The idea of someone trying to hurt my dad made me sick. I knew he would never tell me if he did have serious enemies. I looked at the watch, wishing I’d never taken it from him. What if he needed it more than I did?

  Heath read my mind. “I’m sure he’s fine, Ro.”

  I continued to fidget with it, my mind somewhere else.

  ***

  “I haven’t seen a play in years,” I said as we headed to our seats.

  “You haven’t?” he asked. “London theatre is magical.”

  “What are we watching?” I looked at the program.

  “Coriolanus,” he answered. “Shakespeare.”

  “I wish it came with subtitles,” I said. “I can never understand what they say. They speak so fast.”

  “You’ll pick up on it.”

  The curtain opened and the play began. The story was a little hard to follow, but it was about a soldier who conquered the political world. It was actually really good, better than Romeo and Juliet and the other love stories Shakespeare wrote. But the end, I didn’t want it to stop.

  Heath stood up and clapped loudly.

  I did the same.

  Then we left the theatre and headed to a restaurant down the street.

  “Did you like it?” he asked. He adjusted his tie then browsed the menu.

  “A lot, actually. I’d never heard of that play before.”

  “American theatre is good too, but their plays are totally different.”

  “My mom saw Wicked,” I said. “She said she liked it.”

  “That was pretty good,” he said.

  “You’ve seen it?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen a lot plays. It’s actually one of my favorite hobbies.”

  “Oh, that’s cool.” I didn’t know any young guys who enjoyed play-going but there a first for everything. “What else do you like to do?”

  “I liked to read. I probably read a book a week.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “What do you enjoy?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I read pretty much anything except romance stories. Those are insanely boring…”

  He chuckled. “They aren’t bad.”

  “You read romance?” I asked incredulously.

  “Hey, they can be pretty entertaining.”

  “Like, Fifty Shades of Grey?”

  “No…tame stuff. I care more about the relationship between the characters rather than how good the sex is. That’s just me though.”

  I’d never given it any thought. When I watched porn, I didn’t care about the story behind it. I just wanted to see some action. “Do you like sports?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I love baseball, basketball, and football. I’ve never cared for golf. It puts me to sleep.”

  “I like to play golf, not watch it. My friends and I play basketball pretty often.”

  “Cool,” he said.

  “You can come if you want.”

  “That’d be cool,” he said noncommittally.

  I noticed we spent most of the time talking about me. “What’s your family like? Do they speak English?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why wouldn’t they speak English?”

  “Because they are from Ireland.”

  A smile stretched his lips and he tried not to laugh. “What language do you think Irish people speak?”

  “Uh, Irish?”

  He laughed because he couldn’t contain it. “No, they speak English.”

  “They do?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yeah…”

  Now I felt stupid.

  “I’m going to tease you for that forever.”

  “Damn…just don’t tell Nora. She might fire me.”

  “That woman will fire someone for anything.”

  “That’s not good for me,” I said. “Now, what about your parents?”

  He chuckled. “I guess I’ll let you change the subject… My parents are sheep farmers. My dad took over the land when my grandfather died. They raise the sheep and use their wool for cotton. They raise chicken and among other things…”

  “Cool. I’m sure their farm is beautiful.”

  “It is…” His eyes grew distant as he thought of things only he could see.

  “So, are leprechauns real?”

  “What do you think?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Well, why do you guys worship them as your gods?”

  “We don’t’ worship—do you know anything about Ireland?”

  I shrugged. “Just that you speak Irish and worship tiny gnomes that love gold…”

  “Well, none of that is true. Good thing I was the first person you said this to. You could be easily exploited.”

  “Are there rainbows everywhere?”

  “There are rainbows whenever there is rain and sun—just like anywhere else.”

  “Was Lucky Charms invented there?”

  “No.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

  “So…all the things that I thought made Ireland cool aren’t true?”

  “I’m sorry to break your heart, Ro.”

  Dinner was served and we ate in silence. Heath kept glancing at me with a smile on his lips. Then he would shake his head like I was highly amusing. “Leprechauns as our gods…” He shook his head again.

  I kept my head down and continued to eat.

  “You know there’s a city in Britain called Preston?”

  “There is?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s along the cost.”

  “Cool. Hey, why don’t you move here?” I blurted. “There’s tons of work in Britain and can’t you just take a train to Ireland when you wan
t to visit?”

  “Ireland is an island, Ro.” He held back his laugh.

  “But it’s still closer than America.”

  He shrugged. “New York isn’t bad.” His response was vague and short.

  I decided not to push the topic.

  The waitress came to our table. “You guys are together, right?”

  “No,” I blurted.

  “Yes, we are.” Heath took the table.

  I realized what she meant. “Oh, sorry.” I went back to eating my food.

  Heath put the cash inside then looked at me. “Ready to head home?”

  “Not really. But yeah, we should go.”

  ***

  Heath pulled up to the house then put the car in park. “I’m surprised your parents aren’t waiting for you on the doorstep,” he teased.

  I held up my hand. “Wait for it…”

  The front door opened and both of my parents emerged, clear looks of relief on their faces.

  I turned back to Heath. “They’ll never change.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll help you with your stuff.”

  We headed to the trunk and he popped it.

  Dad came to my then rested his hand on my shoulder. “It’s good to have you back.”

  “I’m not too thrilled to be back.” I pulled my bag from the trunk.

  Mom gazed at me with affection like I’d just won an Olympic medal. “So glad you’re home.”

  “You guys act like I just returned from war,” I snapped.

  “Don’t ever say that again,” Mom said quickly. “I’d break both of your legs before I’d let the military take you away.”

  Heath chuckled, clearly amused.

  “That’s sweet of you,” I said sarcastically. When I stepped away from the car, both of my parents hugged me at the same time. I was sandwiched between them. I sighed and just let it play out. My mom was a foot shorter than me, so she hugged my stomach. Dad was my height so he hugged my shoulders.

  Dad pulled away then shook hands with Heath. “Thanks for taking care of my son.”

  Heath nodded. “He’s a good kid.”

  “Stay for dinner,” Mom said.

  Heath put his hands in his pockets and didn’t know what to say.

  I came to his aid. “You should get going. Besides, my parents would just drive you crazy.”

  “No,” he said quickly. “I’d love to.”

  “Great.” Mom clapped her hands then hooked her arm through his. “Come in. I made pot roast. I hope that’s okay.”