going on before Liz’s death, and he didn’t really hold a grudge that Grady had moved on. He just...he just missed his sister. Liz had shown little interest in the O’Sullivan fortune or business and had thrived on her ranching life, her husband and children. In a way, Liam had admired Liz for her steely determination to live her life exactly how she wanted.
“There you are,” his mother said and greeted him with a brief hug. “Shall we talk over a drink?”
Liam checked his watch. Four forty. Not too early in the day, pushing down the niggling thought that his mother used alcohol to numb her pain at times. “Sure.”
They headed into the bar and sat down at a booth. Liam ordered his mother a wine spritzer and a club soda with lime for himself. As much as he felt like getting wasted to get all thoughts of Kayla from his mind, the night manager didn’t clock on until five and he had a strict rule about alcohol consumption while on duty.
“So,” his mother said once their drinks arrived. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
Liam frowned. “I thought you wanted to talk about the charity schedule?”
“No,” she said quietly. “That can wait. I want to talk about you. I’m worried about you.”
Liam groaned inwardly. He should have seen this coming. Gwen O’Sullivan seemed to have some kind of built-in radar when it came to her offspring. The fact that Sean and Kieran lived elsewhere meant her attention was generally focused on him. Most days he could laugh it off, but today he wasn’t in the mood for any kind of heart-to-heart with his well-meaning parent. “I’m fine.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re not. I know something’s been bothering you.”
“Stop smothering me, Mom,” he said gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “I assure you, I’m fine.”
She didn’t look convinced, but smiled and drank some wine. Then she met his gaze levelly. “There’s more to life than work, you know. More to life than this hotel.”
Liam raised a brow. “Tell that to Dad.”
“At least your father took the time to get married and raise a family,” she reminded him. “Unlike you and your brothers. When Kieran got married I thought that at least one of my boys had the good sense to settle down. But then there was that awful divorce and everything else. And Sean just moves from one flighty woman to the next. And then there’s you...my sensible son, who doesn’t let anyone in.”
It wasn’t true. He’d let Kayla in. Into his life and into his heart. Unfortunately, most days he felt as though she was walking all over it. Liam sat back in his seat and half smiled. “You know, I think we have this same conversation every six months or so.”
“Then it’s time you took notice,” she said, still frowning. “You’re nearly thirty-five years old. It’s time you settled down, got married and had children. We need grandchildren to carry on the family name, after all. And as much as I love them, your sister’s children are Parkers, not O’Sullivans. You’re not even dating anyone at the moment.”
“Mother,” he said as gently as he could, because in his heart he knew that despite her calm, sometimes controlled ways, there was a frailty to Gwen O’Sullivan that only a few people saw. “It’s not the kind of thing that is made to order, you know.”
“Of course it is,” she said and smiled. “Do you think I had any say in the matter when your father courted me?”
He grinned. “Knowing Dad, probably not.”
“What about Abby Perkins?” she suggested as both brows shot up. “She’s a nice woman. And very pretty.”
Abby was the head chef at O’Sullivan’s. “Mom, I—”
“It’s a shame that Lucy Monero is engaged to that Parker boy. Now, she would have been a great match for you. And she’s a doctor. And she’s got such beautiful hair.”
Liam zoned out as his mother prattled on about Lucy Monero, who was a doctor at the local hospital and was soon to marry Grady Parker’s younger brother. She was also one of Kayla’s closest friends.
Liam drank the club soda and vaguely listened as his mother kept talking and mentioning several single women that he knew between the ages of twenty and forty.
“What about Ash McCune?” she asked.
Ash was another friend of Kayla’s, a pretty redhead and a police officer. “Not my type,” he said and grinned.
His mother scowled. “Ellie Culhane?”
“Too young.”
“Carmel Morrissey.”
He grinned. “Too old.”
Liam could see his mother thinking about other potential would-be wives and he drew in a long breath. He knew she was clucking around him to keep her thoughts off losing her only daughter and he wasn’t about to be unkind and tell her to stop. As much as her matchmaking got on his nerves, he would never intentionally hurt her feelings. She was his mother, and that alone was enough of a reason to bite his tongue.
Besides, there was a certain irony in the conversation. His mother was urging him to get married and start a family. He was almost tempted to say he’d already done that. But he wouldn’t say anything until they knew for sure.
The concierge approached, interrupting them about a problem with a guest. Liam held on to his patience as the younger man explained the issue and then barked out a couple of instructions. Some days he longed for a solitary job where he didn’t have staff lining up with questions. He almost envied Kayla her isolation at the museum. When the other man left them, Liam noticed his mother watching him, both brows up.
“What?” he said.
“No one likes a bad-tempered boss,” she said and grinned.
“I don’t have a bad temper.”
“Well, not with me you don’t,” she said and patted his arm. “And you’re very sweet with your nieces and little old ladies and I’m proud of the way you’ve taken Connie under your wing these past few years. But with the rest of the world, including the people who work for you, you seem to have developed a reputation for being grumpy and impatient.”
The criticism irked him more than usual. “Because I like things done a certain way?”
“Because you like things done your way,” she replied and patted his arm again. “You know, you really do seem tense. I think you need to loosen up a bit.”
“I’m loose enough,” he said, even though he knew people believed he was uptight most of the time. It was who he was, who he’d always been. He was J.D. O’Sullivan’s eldest son, heir and successor to the O’Sullivan legacy...imagining he could have had any other kind of life was never an option. Not that he’d had any real ambition to do anything else. Unlike Kieran who’d always known his path was medicine, or Sean, who wanted a faster paced life than small town, South Dakota.
Still, he couldn’t help but sometimes wonder what would have happened if he’d changed course after college, maybe focused on the photography that he’d loved in his teens. But it was all rather moot now... He ran the hotel and the O’Sullivan portfolio and had a responsibility to his family and the many employees who relied on O’Sullivan’s for their livelihood.
“Liam?”
His mother’s voice got his mind back on track. “Yes?”
“What about Annie Jamison or—”
“Enough,” he said gently and held his palm up. “Okay, Mom, I get the drift. You want me to get married and then have a few sons so we can carry on the great O’Sullivan name.” He got to his feet and pushed in the chair. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you or Dad.”
“You never disappoint us. Not ever.”