Kennedy In Denver (In Denver Series Book 1) (6 page)

I hear Michael on the phone
.“
Yes, mom, I'm here now. Yes, I understand. Okay, I will see you tomorrow. Yes, I will tell her she is coming. Bye
.
”

I tap Michael on the shoulder and see him blush.
“
So, I take it that was your mom
?
”

Michael straightened his shoulders as if he was ready to give an order. "Yes, and she wants me to remind you that brunch starts at eleven, and she expects you there." I start laughing.

“I take it no one says No to your mom and everyone tows the line.”

He is laughing now. “My mom has six kids we all know who wears the pants in our family.”

“This place is great, but I was looking somewhere in the four hundred thousands and I'm sure that gets you a closet size apartment in this area.”

Michael says, “You're in luck because the owner of the unit just dropped the price to three hundred ninety-nine thousand.”

I start laughing. "Michael, I call bullshit! This unit is easily seven hundred thousand dollars! The owner isn't mental enough to take a loss that great, so I know something is going on. I don't take kindly to people dicking me around, so cut the crap.”

Michael looks shocked, but soon I have the whole story. His mother owns the building; she renovated the building and all her five remaining unmarried children live on the top four floors. The building is paid for in full. So she can sell the units for whatever she wants. Each of her children got a unit on their eightieth birthday.

“Okay, so there are six of you. Give me the Kerrigan breakdown.”

Michael smiled and started speaking, “Liam is the oldest at thirty-two. You met his wife, Rose and they have a daughter and two sons. Liam is a financial Consultant and Hedge Fund Manager. Rose, as you know, is an interior designer.

Easton is twenty-nine. He is the CEO of Kerrigan Realty, and he is currently dating some social-climbing harpy named Stella. Everyone hates her, but my family with all their manners can't seem to tell her to choke on it.

Rhydian is a Computer Programmer. He writes security code for some of the largest corporation in the world. He is also twenty-nine and is the proverbial bachelor. He likes his women loose and commitment free.”

"Wait Easton is a twin? Pleasesay it isn’t so
.
”

Michael laughs and says
,“
No. They are what's commonly referred as Irish Twins. They are ten months apart.”

I start laughing because I've never heard the phrase before, and then I start laughing even harder when I think of the elder Kerrigan’s as being young and hot in the pants

“I just turned twenty-six; I am the Head of Residential listings for Kerrigan Realty. I'm also single, but not looking. Don't get me wrong you're smokin' hot, but I know what it's like to get your heart ripped out not planning a repeat.” I notice a sad look come over Michael.

Shaking it off, he continued, “Stacy and Killian are REAL twins. They just turned twenty-two. Stacy works as a junior agent at Kerrigan, and Killian manages the website and listing information. He is also a freelance graphic designer. He lost his hearing as a young teen. He can speak, but he prefers to sign so he hasn't spoken a word to anyone in six years. That's it, the siblings Kerrigan. What about you, any family?" 

“
I'm an only child. My parents' late in life miracle baby. They live in Florida. My mom works at a school and my dad works in a juice plant. I grew up on a farm outside a small city on the south west coast. They took in foster kids once I went to college to help my mom deal with her empty nest feelings. People always say Florida isn't really the south, but it's as south as you can get without leaving the country. I went to college up north and after decided I wanted to try the west. Michael, I want to counteroffer your mom, I will lease this place for six months, and after that time we will sit down and discuss the purchase price. I have to make sure I can handle living next to you and I have a feeling you're gonna be nothing but trouble, Michael Kerrigan.”

“
You’re probably right; I have been known to get a little wild every now and then. So are you coming to brunch tomorrow
?
”

“
Yes I'll be there. I have a feeling your mom would hunt me down if Ididn’t show up. Can I bring anything
?
”

“
No, just yourself
.
”

We parted ways and I returned to Dr. Frankli
n’
s to start getting my stuff in order. Sunday morning, I got up and went to the fresh market and the grocery store. I decided to make Lemon-Glazed Banana Scones with crystallized ginger. After a morning of baking and cleaning, I wanted to find something fun to wear yet Sunday appropriate. Growing up in the south you learn always wear your Sunday best. I found a Lilly Pulitzer long sleeved mint dress with a lace overlay that covered my neck and paired it with a nude and mint green wedge sandal. Then made my way to the Kerrigan estate.

Pulling onto the estate, I couldn't believe how beautiful it was. A giant Tudor style mansion with breathtaking landscaping and a large green lawn. I parked my blue extended cab Chevy Silverado next to cars that cost half a million dollars each. It seemed so out of place. I grabbed my container with my scones and made my way to the door.

Stacy answered the door and let out a large squeal that I think ruptured my eardrums “Oh my god you're here. I’m so happy. Come on, everyone is in the great room.”

I followed Stacy and was surrounded by a room full of warm smiles. I handed the container off to Stacy. Rose gave me a hug and introduced me to her husband Liam. I noticed he was an older carbon copy of Michael, but has the look of a lumberjack. He was around six foot six and looked strange standing next to Rose, who looked like a real life pixie.  I don’t even think Rose was five foot tall.  She has long blonde hair and soft round features and big brown eyes the color of whiskey.

Next, she introduced me to her children. Isabel was their youngest and was turning twelve next month. She looked exactly like her mother. “These are our sons, Jackson and Maxwell. They are both Fourteen. We call them Jax and Max.”

“Oh, you have twins. That’s awesome!” The boys burst out into hysterical laughter because Jax was a clone of his father and Max was African American. He has caramel colored skin and hazel eyes.  I turned to Rose with a cheeky smile, “I will have trouble telling them apart!" Both boys looked at each other and burst into another fit of hysterical laughter.

Sitting on the sofa is Rhydian who has raven hair and blue eyes like Stacy, and Killian who had the same rust colored hair and green eyes as his brothers. Rose breaks into my thoughts. “Easton will be here soon. We are waiting on him and his girlfriend, Stella." Rose's face frowned.

“So, I take it you are not a fan?”

Rose pursed her lips and said, “Max was Liam's best friend’s son. He and Max's dad, Gregory were college roommates and remained very close. One night on the way home from dinner a drunk driver t-boned their car killing Greg instantly. His wife Mikayla died a few hours later. Max was also in the car, and they don't know how he survived. By all accounts he should have been killed. Liam and I were named Max's guardians, and we have had him since he was five, so he is our son.”

I pulled her to the side and said, “Rose, I didn't need an explanation.  I think you and Liam are even more awesome for doing what you did.”

Rose hugged me and said "I don't like Stella because she is always giving Max these strange looks when she thinks no one is paying attention. They aren't mean looks, but it makes Max uncomfortable. Liam said as long as she doesn't say a thing to just ignore her.”

“Oh my sweet Rose, you and me are gonna have some fun. I might never be invited back, but I hope you let everyone know I don't hold my tongue or back down from anyone.”

Just then, Easton and Stella walked in. Rose stood next to me and I said, “So, we meet again, Mr. Kerrigan.”

The look of confusion on Easton’s face is priceless. “Ms. Gallagher,” he said dryly.

Stella stood sour faced by his side. “And you must be Stella. I've heard such nice things about you from everyone.” I didn't extend a handshake because let's face it, I hate bitches and this girl was a level twenty bitch on a scale one to ten. As we sat down to brunch, I sat in between Stacy and Michael. Conversation was casual and everyone was having a pleasant brunch when Isabel asked the questions that would have the shit hit the fan.

"Ms. Gallagher, my mother says you're opening a Music Conservatory. When will you be opening it? I saw my mom’s sketches of what it's going look like, and I've been telling all the kids at school, even Jackson and Max want to come."

I was happy the kids were excited. "Well, do you take lessons now?" I asked.

"Yes, I take piano. Jax and Max both take guitar. The music program in our school is second to sports."

"Ms. Gallagher, congratulations on finding a location for your music conservatory. I didn't think you would find another building so quickly. Where will your conservatory be located?" he asked with a grin, the cocky bastard.

Deep, steady breaths, Kennedy. Show no emotion.
“
Yes, Mr. Kerrigan, I was very lucky,and I think I will be very happy in The Hope Theatre
.
” That’s when I let my grin spread across my face.

I could see his knuckles going white as he gripped the fork.

“
It all happened very quickly! I signed the papers Wednesday morning and met with the contractor and his restoration team Wednesday afternoon. Stacy handled all the details for me
.
” I watched his head whip in Stac
y’
s direction.

"I'm sorry you were so rudely interrupted Isabel, but to answer your question, I won't be opening till next September. It's going to take a full sixteen months to get the building finished. If it's ok with your parents, you and your brothers can come over a few days after school each week, and I will work on your instruments with you. I haven't had a chance to buy a piano yet,but I'm going to look this afternoon
.
”

"Woot! Woot! Count me in!" Jax yelled. “You're hot I'm totally switching teachers!”

And here comes strike one for Stella. “Well, there is a difference between someone who is a pianist and someone who plays the piano. I'm sure Sally plays the piano very well, but why lower your standards?”

I somehow managed to keep a straight face. “She is correct Isabel; there is a difference between someone who plays the piano for recreation, and someone who has dedicated their life to their craft. See, if I was you, and I was looking for a new teacher here are some things I would ask. One, how long has your instructor played the piano? Two, what qualifies them to teach you how to be a better pianist? Three, can they give you any references and accreditations? Four, can you hear them play the Chopin Etude Op.10 No.3 in E Major? If they can do all four of those things, you're lucky.” I wink. The table was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Isabel do you have anything to ask me?”

"Yes", Isabel asked with hesitation. "Miss Gallagher how long have you been playing piano?”

“So nice of you to ask, Isabel. I started playing when I was almost three. I'm twenty-four now, so that is twenty-one years. Anything else?”

"Yes", Isabel smiled.

"What qualifications do you have to teach me how to be a classical pianist?"

"What an excellent question! Well, as I said, I have been playing the piano for twenty-one years. I was admitted to one of the world's top music conservatories at seventeen and completed my dual enrollment with two degrees. I have a Bachelor of Music Education (BME), which would allow me to teach music to grades Kindergarten through Twelfth grade, and a Bachelor of Music (BM), an intensive program that prepared me to be professional musicians.
I graduated in the top one percent of my class with honors. I'm sure your next question is do I have any achievements. Well let's see, at seventeen, I played for the president of the United States at the White House. That was pretty awesome. At eighteen, I sold out five nights at Carnegie Hall for the New York City Schools Music fund. I've played with the New York symphony, the Boston Pops and on my nineteenth birthday, I played for the Prime Minister of England while he attended the White House correspondent’s dinner.  I was going to play for the Queen but got a little busy and yes, before you ask I can play Chopin. If you had a piano I would gladly play after brunch.” I wink.

“See, Stella gave you great advice.” I turned to finish my fritter. No one spoke, but I could hear the steam coming out of Stella's ears. Trying to defuse the situation, Mrs. Kerrigan asked who was ready for a treat as everyone started clearing the dishes.

Michael leaned over and said, “You laid the smack down on her”. I just giggled. Everyone had a scone except for Stella. “Oh Easton, you shouldn't eat that. It's so fattening!” Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard and here comes strike two.

“Oh Sadie, I love your dress. Who's it by?”

“Lilly Pulitzer,” I answer.

"Oh", she said. "Is that a plus size designer? They are so fashion forward these days. You can hardly tell anymore."

I smiled, I was more shocked that no one was checking this bitch, but she had one more strike and then she was going to get hers. Michael and I sat whispering to each other when the third strike came.

"Sarah", Stella said. I turn to face her. This bitch knows my name, but I see she thinks she is clever. "Who are your parents?"

"My mother is a pre-k teacher, and my father works in a juice factory. They live on a farm in rural southwest Florida.”

Stella made that annoying sound in the back of her throat. I felt the sudden need to punch her in it and cut off her breathing, but I just turned back to Michael and continued my conversation.

“Well, I can see why you have attached yourself to Michael. Gold diggers always go for the weakest link in a family.”

I finally heard Easton speak, “Stella! Grab your stuff, I'm taking you home!” Stella was smiling from ear to ear.

“No, please," I said. "Easton, please stay seated. Liam, Rose and Mr. and Mrs. Kerrigan, I just want to apologize ahead of time."
I turned my focus on Stella and I smiled.
 

"Stella, I know it's quite tacky to talk about money, but since you opened the door, let's chat openly. Stacy can tell you I purchased The Hope Building for three million dollars in cash. Rose has seen the contracts for the remodel and restoration of my building, which has a price tag of five million dollars for the first phase. I paid for that in cash. Also, an additional nine million dollars due in ninety days, but I will probably pay that tomorrow 'cause I don't like owing money. So, in the last week I have spent seventeen million dollars and didn’t even bat an eyelash. I didn't get any discounts or government grants. That seventeen million dollars came out of my very own pocket. So now, let’s discuss your finances since you seem to be all up in mine. How much are you worth?”

Stella got that gleam in her eyes and started to say, “My family is worth…” 

“No, Stella, not your family. You! What is your personal net worth?” 

“Twenty million dollars!” She flipped her hair over her shoulders. “And your family's net worth, Stella?”

“Seventy-five million dollars?”

“Now that's really impressive! Ninety-five million dollars! So that makes you really, really rich! Wow!” Stella was preening like a peacock.

"You know something interesting, Stella, with all that money, your twenty million and your dad's seventy-five million, I’m still fifty-five million dollars richer than you and your daddy combined. See my net worth is up in the one hundred-fifty million dollar range and that just what I have sitting about in my bank. That doesn't count some additional investments I have made that proved extremely profitable or the fact all it takes is one phone call, and I could be two hundred million dollars richer!”

“Now, here is the part I apologized for earlier. You're an extremely beautiful young woman, even though everything about your looks is fake. You're not a real blonde, you have veneers and hair extensions. Your spray tan is a touch on the orange side, and your boobs are not even close to being proportionate to your body; and I'm assuming you're already on at least nose number two.  You're wealthy, you have a handsome boyfriend, but yet you feel the need to make others feel small so you can feel better about yourself. It’s a mystery to me, but I suggest you seek some psychological help for your obvious personality disorder.”

I pause before continuing “You know what happens to bored women with endless amount of money and low self-esteem they become obsessed with plastic surgery. In five years, I wouldn't be surprised if you look like the New York Cat Woman, but to top it off your personality sucks. You're mean to kids and you're disrespectful to the Kerrigan’s. You sit at this table as an invited guest and try to hold court in someone else's house, and the jackass next to you doesn't have backbone enough to say a word. I'm assuming that either you have a golden pussy or you suck dick so good it deserves a gold medal. So let me clarify this mix up; I could buy you and your daddy and still have millions left so if anyone is a gold digger here—it's you. I don't need Kerrigan money, but you keep giving blowjobs for Botox, it's worked for you so far.”

She reached for her glass in an attempt to throw her drink in my face so I started laughing. Easton is holding her arm, as she turned red with fury.

“Stella, before you even think of throwing that drink at me, rest assured by the time the liquid hits me, I am gonna be over that table bashing your face in. It's gonna take more than everyone in here to pull me off of you. So, if I were you I would stand up, thank the Kerrigan’s for a lovely meal and go about your business. I would hate to have to send you to the hospital on this fine Sunday.”

Easton wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her out of the chair and toward the door. Still no one said a word.
 

"Well it's been a lovely brunch, thank you so much. I will just see myself out."
 

”Sit down, dear”, Shamus’s voice was loud and booming.  Isabel, Jackson and Max started humming 'ding dong, the witch is dead' and the entire room erupted in a fit of laughter.