The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

“Leave. Now,” said Ronan, his jaw working. If I knew my brother, it was taking a great effort for him not to deck Sean right then. He had a notoriously short fuse, and Sean Cassidy was an expert at knowing how to light it.

Barely a second passed before several of the guys were up from their seats and leading Sean out of the room. He went, but not before flashing Ronan an immense, challenging smile as he left. Ronan sat back down beside Annie, who gave him a soft kiss on the lips and whispered in his ear. I guessed she was telling him not to let Sean get to him.

I knew she meant well, but there was too much animosity between the two men for them to just let it go. Granted, I’d only ever been an outsider looking in, but if I knew anything about rugby, I knew it was chock-full of testosterone and egos, and those two were not a good mix.

After a few minutes, everybody seemed to settle down. Though after Sean’s appearance, our cheerful gathering wasn’t quite as jovial as before. Needing to pee, I left the private party and went in search of a bathroom. I was just leaving a stall when I saw Mam standing by the makeup counter, re-applying her lipstick. Her blue eyes caught on me and she gave me her usual expression. It was neither a smile nor a frown, but something in between, a grimace masquerading as a grin.

“Lucy, where have you been all evening? I’ve wanted to introduce you to the son of a friend of mine. He’s a real dish, owns his own company and everything.”

“Oh,” I said, noncommittally.

I washed and dried my hands, then Mam slipped her arm through mine. “Come on, we can go find him now.” Her eyes went to my hair for a second and she sighed regretfully. I knew she was embarrassed by it. In a way, that was one of the main reasons why I did it. In another way, it wasn’t. I wanted to be able to express myself in a manner that made me happy. And having hair a color that couldn’t be found in nature did exactly that.

We were just leaving the bathroom when I tried to pull my arm from hers. “Maybe later, Mam. I promised Annie I’d be back soon. We’ve a lot of work stuff to discuss.”

“This is a party, Lucy. Work can wait for another day.”

I stood my ground, planting my feet firmly on the floor and not allowing her to lead me any farther. I knew my mother had her own issues and insecurities; however, she still stressed me out. I wished things could be different, but it was often hard to be around her.

“No, Mam, I’m going back to Annie. I don’t want to meet your friend’s son.”

She gaped at me, as though surprised by my outburst. I was a little surprised myself. Often I went along with her wishes because I didn’t want to upset anyone. A few moments elapsed, and I couldn’t tell if she was going to lose it with me or not.

In the end she didn’t, probably because there were too many people about. She plastered the fakest smile I’d ever seen on her face and said, “Okay, darling. You go to Annie. Enjoy the party as much as you can. I’ll see you back at the house.”

And with that she turned and strode off. I knew her last line wasn’t as benign as she made it sound. The second I got home tonight I’d be in for it. Yes, she’d hold back all her dissatisfaction until then, when there were no watchful eyes about to witness it. The thought made me start to wish there was something around that I could steal . . . maybe a few champagne glasses. They’d fit in my handbag, right?

God, I was a mess.

Letting out a long sigh, I slumped back against the wall. Pulling my phone from my bag, I checked to see if I had any messages. I had one and it was from Annie. Reading it made me smile and drove away most of my thieving urges.

Annie: If we locked your brother and Sean in a room, what do you think the odds would be on whether they’d murder each other or start crying while having an emotional heart-to-heart?

I snorted and typed out a quick reply.

Lucy: I’d say that’s a ratio of 1,000,000: 0, my friend.

Although we didn’t actually live in the same country, Annie and I had become extremely close over the last few months. I was her sounding board and advice-giver on how to deal with Ronan, and she was my guru and advice-giver on how to survive living in New York. Plus, we worked together to create humorous blog posts about ridiculous celebrities. Tell me two girls who wouldn’t bond over that? I swear most of our Skype calls have consisted of ninety-five percent giggling and five percent actual conversation.

Slipping my phone in my bag, I turned to go back to the VIP room and collided with a body. That body was large and male, and appeared to be wearing a very nice suit. It only took a split second for me to recognize the suit. It belonged to Sean Cassidy, who was currently glaring at me.

“Watch where you’re going, Mini-Fitzpatrick,” he said, hostility in his voice. Clearly, being Ronan’s sister meant I was enemy number one to him.

I lifted my hands in the air and replied humorously, “Sorry, Bubs. I’ll try to be more careful next time.”