staring at me. Best damned sex? My chailín decides now is the time to share that wee bit of information with me?
“My husband, Barrington, brought his tart into my goddamn home. He thinks he’s invincible, but he’ll pay the price soon enough.”
Well, well, well.
“My ex-boyfriend, for the lack of a better name, got me fired from my job for misconduct in the workplace. He got promoted.”
“Asshole.”
Clarissa nods in agreement.
I clear my throat.
So does every other man at the table. Our shriveled balls are collected on a platter and being served alongside a slice of humble pie. I’ve half a mind to let these two finish their conversation in private.
“I didn’t catch your name.”
My grin might not be visible but it’s as broad as day. Brilliant move by the minx.
“I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Sylvia. Sylvia Ogdenhayer.”
I don’t react.
Clarissa tilts her head. It’s the slightest of movements, giving nothing away. But it’s enough to know we are on the same bleedin’ page.
Sylvia Ogdenhayer isn’t pleased with O’Brien.
And she’s come to me to do something about it.
Now, how to proceed?
“The big fella’s got a weak chin.”
She arches an eyebrow. “A weak chin?”
I tap my own, feeling the big fella listening intently across the table struggle not to send a punch my way.
“And how do you fix a weak chin?”
I give her a lazy smile. “Don’t get hit.”
She doesn’t like my sense of humor. “I’ll offer you ten thousand euros throw the fight. Two thousand more if it looks convincing.”
“How come you’re so sure I’ll even make it that far?”
She cracks a smile, and I’ve got to say, it’s unsettling. “Word is O’Brien has taken an interest in you.”
“That so?” I run my fingers across my jaw. “How come you’re so certain the big fella will qualify?”
“If Vidal loses, I’ll kill him.”
The woman is bleedin’ serious.
She shrugs. “Just a matter of speech.”
“O’Brien really screwed you over,” Clarissa presses on. Yep. Recording every word, for sure.
“He promised to spend hours with his head between my thighs but instead is trying to fuck me from behind.”
Well, there you have it.
Sylvia rises to her feet. Her men follow suit. “Throw the fight and take my money, or you’ll end up with the same offer I made Vidal.” The mad woman stalks off with a trail of men behind her.
I turn and catch Clarissa tapping the red button on her cell phone. She stores her phone safely away in her knapsack. Unaware that whatever she captured on video will never see the light of day.
I wait a heartbeat until I have her full attention. “She threatened to kill you,” is all she has to offer me. “In case you didn’t notice, I’ve a way with the ladies.”
She stares at me like I’ve lost my bleedin’ mind. “She threatened to kill you.”
I stand and nod toward our table. “All this talk of fighting and murder has given me an appetite.”
Clarissa
Finn reorders us breakfast and insists we enjoy it without interruption.
Who am I to protest? At this point, I’d run ten more miles, eat three breakfasts, and kiss Finn’s battered lips until his knees shook because I’m that happy.
“Easy does it,” he mutters, encouraging me to contain my excitement.
I clap my hands together. “Easy is right. Can you believe Sylvia Ogdenhayer is in Cork? And she’s taken an interest in you?”
Mrs. Ogdenhayer is in Ireland. She’s dealing directly with O’Brien.
And Finn and I are right in the middle of it.
Finn shrugs then stabs a fork into a slice of ham.
I ignore his lackluster enthusiasm and busy myself finishing up business. I take out my iPhone and replay the video, anxious to hear Sylvia Ogdenhayer’s voice and check for sound quality. The audio is crisp and clear, and better than I hoped for. Yeah, I needed more. I needed her to say O’Brien’s name or discuss being in Ireland on business. I’ll have to fill in the blanks myself. But it sounds like O’Brien will be at the fights, so this is just the beginning of getting to the heart of these characters.
With careful fingers, I upload it along with the warehouse footage. I have half a mind to skim through everything and begin connecting the pieces of this complicated puzzle for viewers.
“Eat.”
I glance up.
Finn gestures to my full plate of food. “Yer eggs are getting cold.”
With a sigh, I tuck my phone away and give in to my hunger. Finn alternates between staring at his plate and watching me eat. I know this because I do the