LITMIR.BIZ

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that. You’re not going to be able to intervene and make it right this time, Trace. Dad obviously doesn’t want me there. He never did, and I handed him the perfect excuse to make it official.”

      “He didn’t fire you,” Trace reminded her. “You quit.”

      “Oh, please,” she protested. “That’s little more than a technicality, under these circumstances. The handwriting was on the wall. You didn’t hear him. He treated me as if I didn’t have a brain in my head, as if my going out with Matthew was the next worse thing to stealing the life savings of little old ladies. What choice did I have? Sooner or later I was going to have to stand up for myself with him. If it hadn’t been over this, something else would have come along.”

      Trace continued to look dismayed. “Laila, be reasonable. That’s in the past. You’re no longer with Matthew. I have that right, don’t I? Just tell Dad that. It would make all the difference.”

      She frowned at him. “Come on, Trace. None of this is really about me and Matthew. Dad wants the prodigal son in that job, not me.”

      “That ship has sailed,” her brother said fiercely. “Dad knows that.”

      She smiled. “You don’t really believe that, do you? How many times since I left has he called you with some crisis only you can resolve? Compare that with the fact that he hasn’t once reached out to me, not personally, not professionally.”

      Trace gave her a rueful look. “Okay, you’re right. He hasn’t given up entirely on luring me back, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to do it. You were meant for that job, Laila. You and I both know that. So does Dad, when he’s not being impossible.”

      She couldn’t deny the truth of that. Ironically, her instinct for numbers, accounting and banking had been honed at her father’s knee, for all the good it had done her. Maybe it was because she had a real aptitude for it. Maybe it was simply because she’d craved his attention and approval. Look where that had gotten her, she thought wryly.

      “Yes, I was perfect for it,” she conceded. “But as far as Dad’s concerned, I’ll never be more than second best. I’m not willing to accept that. I’ve moved on. I’m not beating my head against that particular wall ever again. I can make a good living with accounting.”

      “It’s not about earning a decent wage,” Trace argued. “It’s about doing what you love, what you were destined to do. Don’t settle, Laila.”

      “I’m not settling. I’m accepting the inevitable. If I’d done that years ago, my life would have been far less frustrating.”

      Trace frowned. “You’re sure about this?”

      “A hundred percent,” she said with what she hoped sounded like total conviction.

      “If you say so,” he said skeptically. “And it really is over with Matthew?”

      “It really is. You can rest easy. Your sister is no longer interested in disgracing the family name.”

      Her response seemed to make him unhappy. “It wasn’t about me or the family name,” he said with obvious frustration. “How could you even think that? I just didn’t want Matthew messing with your head.”

      “Well, he’s not messing with any part of me now. You should be thrilled.”

      He winced. “You’ll find the right guy,” he said, seeking to reassure her. “I could ask Abby—”

      “Don’t you dare!” she ordered, horrified. “I do not want your wife parading a bunch of men in front of me.”

      “It was just a thought,” he said defensively. “I feel as if it’s my fault you’re miserable.”

      “I’m not miserable,” she insisted. “I’m in transition.” She was pleased with the word. It described exactly where she was in her life, somewhere between the happiness she’d never expected and the uncertain future that was somewhere around the corner.

      Trace stood up, apparently satisfied. “We’re good, then?”

      She sighed and crossed the room. For all of his annoying flaws, he was a good brother. One of the best. “Of course we’re good,” she said, hugging him fiercely. “Just try to remember you’re a Riley, not an O’Brien. Meddling doesn’t come naturally to you. You made a real mess of it this time.”

      “Again, very, very sorry,” he said contritely, a twinkle back in his eyes. At her skeptical look, he said, “Okay, at least a little bit sorry. I think you can do way better than Matthew.”

      “You probably ought to leave before I feel compelled to argue with you about that,” she responded.

      “Love you.”

      “You, too,” she said, watching as he left. From the window moments later, she could see him crossing the inn’s lawn and heading down to the beach to walk along the shore to the home he’d bought for himself, Abby and his twin stepdaughters. He was whistling, obviously pleased that the visit with Laila had been a success, that their relationship had been mended, if not hers with their father.

      She shook her head. She knew her brother loved her, knew he wanted her to be happy, but he didn’t have even the tiniest bit of insight about what it would take to make that happen. If he had, he’d have understood that her best chance at happiness was with the man of whom he’d so vocally disapproved. Not that she intended to admit such a thing to Trace or anyone else. She could barely even admit it to herself.

      After a frustrating hour of holiday shopping when her heart hadn’t been in it, Laila was eating a solitary evening meal at Sally’s when she looked up to see Nell O’Brien standing beside her table. The place was jam-packed with other shoppers, holiday carols were being played on the sound systems here and in every store in town, which had left Laila somehow feeling more alone and out of sorts than ever. She’d barely touched her meal, which by now was cold and unappetizing.

      “May I?” Nell asked, gesturing toward the empty seat across from Laila. “I swear I’m just about worn out from Christmas shopping, and I’ve barely gotten started.”

      “Of course. Have a seat,” Laila said. “Tell me why on earth you’re shopping here, when you’ll be spending the holidays in Dublin?”

      “Oh, you know how it is,” Nell responded after ordering a cup of tea and a bowl of Sally’s homemade vegetable beef soup. “There are a lot of people who’ll be expecting a little something. Many of them no longer have family around, so it’s up to friends like me to make sure they aren’t forgotten.”

      “Wouldn’t they be happier with a gift from Ireland?” Laila inquired.

      Nell chuckled. “Oh, they’ll be hoping for that, too, if only a small token so they’ll know I was thinking of them. I suspect I’ll be coming back with a lot of soft woolen scarves that’ll be perfect for the chilly Chesapeake Shores winter.”

      Laila hesitated. She was the one who’d brought up Ireland, but she wasn’t really sure it was a topic they ought to be discussing. The whole subject was fraught with peril, especially for her. Still, there was little point in pretending the big family vacation wasn’t just a couple of weeks away.

      “You must be getting really excited about the trip,” she said, treading carefully. She hoped Nell couldn’t see through the casual indifference she was trying to project. “How long has it been since you’ve been back? “

      Nell’s expression turned nostalgic. “The last time was the year before my husband died, so quite a while. I’m anxious to visit one last time, to see the few friends who are left, and to show some of my favorite spots to all the grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I want them to understand where their family came from. I might not have grown up in Ireland the way my ancestors did, but it’s in my blood and my descendants’. I knew that the first time I set foot on Irish soil.”

      “I know Jess is looking forward to

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