Taking Risk Series

by Toni Aleo

  I let my head fall back as my kid sister, Lena, giggles beside me. She favors my ma, long, blond hair, shining blue eyes, always the center of attention when it comes to other blokes. She got into some trouble a couple years back, and it basically ruined the family. Slowly but surely, we are coming back from it. We are close, but not as close as we should be. When she quickly stops laughing, it’s probably because my da has set her with a look. The same look he is probably glaring at me with, not that I care. “I have dated, Ma, just nothing worth my time.”

  “Keeva was delightful, a real gem,” Ma informs me, but I disagree.

  Making a face of pure disgust, I say, “She was a bucket of snots, inside and out. She only wanted me for my money.”

  “Everyone will want you for your money, lad. That’s what we are, what you are—deal with it.”

  I shake my head. “I will not. I want a girl who loves me for me, not because I am the Whiskey Prince of Ireland.”

  “But you are,” Da stresses, and while he is right, I don’t care. “And with that title comes responsibilities, and you know what they are. Get married and own the business. I know you want that.”

  “Of course I do, but I’m not going to settle for anything less than I deserve. How could you want me to anyway?”

  Da shakes his head as his mouth sets in a straight line. “I’m done with this conversation. You are an O’Callaghan, Declan, act like one. Get married. You have only six months to do so before you are skipped in line, and we give it to Lena’s soon-to-be husband.”

  That gets my blood boiling as my sister gasps besides me. No way in fucking hell is her boyfriend, who couldn’t even tell a pot still from a whiskey barrel, going to own my business. I look to my ma, but she is as stone-faced as he is. Fuck! She agrees. “Da! That is insane! I can run the business and not be married.”

  “No, you can’t. Dear, you have to be married. Not only have your grandda and father decided on this since apparently an O’Callaghan man has always been married before his twenties, but because it’s been that way since your great-great-great-great-great-grandda started the distillery. He believed that a man in love had the compassion to run a great company, and because of that, only a married man can own the family company.” Ma says that like I haven’t heard this a billion times since I was old enough to be interested in owning the distillery. I know the expectations of my family. I may not agree with them, and I may think that they are downright stupid, but I know them nonetheless. I just wish I had some leeway here and maybe even some more time. Six months? Before they pass it to my sister’s soon-to-be husband? I can’t even keep a girl more than a night because I get bored with her or because she’s out for my money. I want more than that. I want to have it all. I want what my parents have, what every O’Callaghan man has had.

  I throw my hands up in frustration. “Yes, in love! I have to love them for that to be true! Don’t you see that I want it to happen, I just haven’t found her yet?”

  Da stands quickly, his seat falling behind him as his fist comes down on the table, making my ma and sister jump in surprise. I don’t even flinch. He doesn’t scare me. Nothing does. “So fall in love! Do what I say, Declan, or you will not own the business.”

  Pushing my seat back, I stand, mirroring my da in height at nearly 6’2 as I hold his vexed gaze. I want him to see in my eyes that I want these things, that I don’t want to lose my chance to make our whiskey better than before, but I know all he sees is that I’m not what he was at my age. My ma stands too, her hands out in a pleading way as she says, “Enough. Sit down. Let’s finish our dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I say before turning and walking away, despite them calling my name, demanding that I come back. Ignoring them, I walk through the many halls of the O’Callaghan estate. With over sixty rooms, one would think I would get lost, but I’ve had the same room my whole life. I was born in this room, which is bigger than most suites in a five-star hotel. It’s the room that I’ll bring my bride to, and more than likely, my child will be born in here too. That’s the way the O’Callaghans do things.

  As much as I would like to say that I don’t want these things, that I want to do something completely different, I don’t. I want the same traditions, this way of life. I want my children to grow the way I have and then their children to do the same. I love what my family stands for. I love our brand, our whiskey, and I will do anything for the things I love.

  But do I give up my need to have what I desire, what I’ve dreamed about, to have the traditions and life that have been mapped in the stars before my birth? Or do I stand strong and look for what I want? What I deserve? Looking around my empty room, which is filled with furniture older than my grandfather, I decide that I am not going to find any answers here, so I turn and head for the front of the house.

  On my way, I pass by our housekeepers, and unlike my sister, I do not say a thing, only give a curt nod as I head to the place that brings me peace. When the fresh air hits my face once I am outside, I let out a breath and then take in a deep one, filling my chest with the air of my homeland. Ignoring my car, I make my way to the stables to where my Irish Draught, Cathmor, awaits me. When I enter, my stable hand, Mitch, is putting the saddle on my friend as I run my hand along his white chest, which is speckled with black. He snorts loudly, greeting me with his furry lips on my face.

  “Howya, Cathmor, good lad?”

  He snorts again as Mitch says, “He’s ready. Good day, sir.”

  “Thanks, Mitch,” I reply before mounting Cathmor. When Mitch backs away, I kick Cathmor to go, and like a bullet, he is off. I always love to ride to the distillery rather than drive. There is something about the air hitting me in the face and the speed of the beast beneath me that pulls all the stress from my body. It’s relaxing and soothing as he runs through the fields of my home. The trees are in full bloom, the grass so green, and the sky blue. I can feel the lake on my skin from the wind, and I can’t wait to get down there to fish or take my boat on the water. Summer is my favorite time because of the beauty my land provides me with. Well, my da’s land. In six months’ time, I could have nothing.

  Depressing, I know.

  Kicking Cathmor’s side so he will go faster, I leave that thought in the dust as he takes a sharp turn around the lake that separates our land from that of the Maclasters’ Bed and Breakfast. I’ve never been there, but my best friend, Kane, enjoys going to the pub that is a part of their establishment. He tries to get off with the owner’s daughter, Fiona Maclaster. I haven’t seen her yet, but from what Kane says, she is easy on the eyes.

  When the large, stone building that holds my family’s dynasty comes into view, I kick into Cathmor again to get there. Not only would being around the smoky and spicy aroma of the whiskey calm me, but I could use a glass too. Stopping before another worker, I dismount Cathmor and run my hand down his beautiful mane, saying, “Good ride, lad, thank you.”

  To the worker, I say, “Please give him plenty of water. He ran the whole way.” The worker, whose name I notice is Cal from his name tag, nods as I hand him the reins and make my way inside.

  As soon as the aroma of whiskey hits me, I take in a deep breath, savoring it as I look around the room. With large windows letting in the sun, the room is like its outside, stone, with a dark, dungeon feel. Some people may fear the O’Callaghan distillery, but I love it. Have loved it since I was a little boy. Heading to the back distilling room, I shut the door behind me to give myself privacy before heading to where my bottle of whiskey is hidden. Passing by the pot stills, I run my fingers along the copper base, lightly, making sure not to burn my fingers. My great-great-great-great-great-grandda learned how to make whiskey from a Scottish pal, and because of this, we use pot stills to this day. I’ve always loved the look of them and enjoy this room the best because it reminds me of my history.

  My dynasty.

  Reaching for my bottle, I sit on a stool as I pour only a little in the bottom of a glass. Bringing it to my no
se, I take in a deep inhale, the smells of vanilla and caramel overloading my senses before I take a small sip, moving it around in my mouth, savoring the smooth flavor before swallowing it. It has a kick, but it’s one I enjoy. This is my bottle, the one I plan to name Cathmor once I have my chance to own the name. My da isn’t adventurous with his whiskey, keeps it to the books. But me, I like mixing and trying new flavors, and I feel that Cathmor will blow people away. It has taken me five years to find the right flavor, and I want my chance to share it with the world, which means one thing…

  I need a wife.

  When the door opens suddenly, I pause with my glass at my lips as my best friend walks in and shuts the door. With a grin on his face, Kane says, “Saw you sneak in here, thought I’d join you.”

  I nod as I place my glass down, picking up one for him before filling and passing it off. Taking it, he holds it against mine before saying, “Sláinte.” We both take a good sip, savoring the flavor as we sit in silence.

  “It’s not good to drink alone, Dec.”

  “Da pissed me off.”

  “When does he not?” Kane scoffs. “What did he do this time?”

  I take another sip before shaking my head slowly. “Pressuring me into marrying off.”

  “Again?” Kane asks, even though we both know that Da won’t stop pressuring me until I do what he wants.

  “Yes. I told him I want to marry for love, and he said fall in love then! Says I have six months to get it done, or I lose my chance at the name.”

  A shocked look comes over my mate’s face as he exclaims, “Well, you best do it!”

  “Come off it! I’m trying.”

  “You do no such thing. You don’t go out and meet anyone.”

  “I do too,” I insist. “I go to the pub and meet women all the time.”

  “Fucking shite, ya do! You go to the pub that your da’s mates drink at—not somewhere that would produce a wife.”

  I let out a sigh; Kane is delusional. “I’ve met plenty of women there.”

  “Sure, but have they stuck? No, they are slappers, out for your money. You need to meet a good woman, someone who will stick. Someone to be mad about.”

  He’s right, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Fine, what do you suggest then?”

  “Come out with me. We’ll find you someone.”

  That gives me the shakes. The places that he goes make me nervous. The kind of places that are full of people I don’t know, but they know who I am because of the news or magazines. Because of that, they treat me differently than they do Kane. Then again, Kane is easy to get to know. He is fun and charming. Me, I’m off, as he says. I don’t know how to act normal when people I don’t know stare at me or talk to me. My shyness, as Kane has so nicely informed me, is probably the only thing that makes me not like my name, the title I have. It isn’t easy being the Whiskey Prince. Not only does it draw attention to me, but it seems like everyone wants something from me. Sometimes I come off a little abrasive because of it. Even being my best mate, I can’t tell this to Kane. He wouldn’t understand. His life is easy, ladies flock to him, and no one wants anything but his company. With me, it’s different, and I hate the way it makes me feel.

  “Fine. Soon, I’ll go.”

  He lets out a long breath. “Fucking hell, lying like that to your best pal? I can see it in your eyes, your mannerisms. Leaving the O’Callaghan land gives you the willies, but I’m telling ya, it’s for the best. You don’t want to lose your precious land, do ya?” I shake my head as he says, “I know you don’t, so come on, let’s find you a wife.”

  “Fine, I’m going to have to be ossified,” I say as I take a hearty sip of my whiskey, needing the liquid courage.

  Kane lets out a long laugh as he shakes his head. “Not tonight, my friend. You need time to adjust to the idea, savor it, but when you’re ready, I am.”

  I nod because I know that Kane would do just about anything for me, as I would for him. That’s what twenty years of friendship gives you, and I’m thankful for that. But the question is—when will I be ready? As I look around the place that I know I can’t live without, I figure I need to get ready pretty quickly.

  Because I can’t lose this.

  Chapter 3

  Amberlyn

  One would think that after a month of living and working in a very busy pub in Ireland that I would at least know what people are saying when they talk to me.

  But I don’t.

  “I plan on being pissy drunk,” one of my patrons informs me with a slight slur, or maybe that’s his brogue, not sure, but he seems excited.

  I look back at my cousin Fiona, confused, and she shakes her head, a smile playing on her pouty lips. “He plans on getting really drunk tonight,” she says in her just-as-thick Irish accent. It has been Americanized though, thankfully, from having an American for a father.

  I look back, meeting the gaze of my elderly patron as I pass him his pint of beer, and smile. His green eyes are shining, and he is wearing an intoxicating grin with a long, scruffy beard. I have to admit, I don’t know him, but I know he is going to make my night. People like this make me love my job. I love meeting the people, talking to them, despite not knowing what they are talking about half the time. I love working at the high pace that the pub requires, and I love working with my cousin. I never would have thought this a month ago, but I love being a bartender!

  “Sounds like a plan!”

  He takes a long pull of his beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before pointing his finger at me. “American, yes?”

  I nod. “Guilty as charged. Only been here a month.”

  And what a month it has been. Of course, my Aunt Shelia and Uncle Michael have been unbelievably accommodating and have given me a lovely home. It isn’t the home I had with my mom and dad, but they love me as if I were theirs. Shelia is excited to have me,and always talks about how much she loved my dad and mom. It’s refreshing. I think she expected to get some heartbroken girl, and while, yes, I am heartbroken and I miss them more than ever, I had time to accept that my mother was leaving me. So while I may still have my moments of complete heartbreak, where I sob until I can’t breathe because I miss her, I am able to go on with my life and do as she asked.

  Live each day as if I were dying.

  When I got here, though, I was scared. Shit, I’m still scared, but her letter that my aunt had waiting for me was so comforting. I knew that I had to do everything that the letter said. I also memorized it, remembering everything about it, because I never wanted to forget my mother’s words, her handwriting, or how the letter smelled like soft roses. Just like her favorite perfume that my dad had given her. While she told me repeatedly that she loved me and that she was sorry she had to leave me, she also gave me three things she wanted me to do this year.

  Take a risk.

  Do something drastic.

  Fall in love.

  While each one scares me to the core, I haven’t had a chance to do anything yet since I have been settling in and adjusting to life here. I don’t even know what I’m going to do though! Take a risk? Yeah, no clue. Do something drastic? Um, a tattoo is drastic, right? Yeah, I can do that as soon as I get over my fear of needles. And fall in love? Is she crazy? All I’ve ever done with a boy is kiss one, and she wants me to fall in love? Jesus, that involves sex, doesn’t it? Since no one has ever been in my pants, that could pose a problem. A huge one! I’m pretty sure I’m the only virgin in Cong, County Mayo, and that is just downright sad. My mom is asking for a lot, but I can’t help but love her more for each word she wrote. She wants me to start over, she wants me to be happy, and I have every intention of doing that.

  I miss my home, but I believe in what my mom is doing here. Plus, Uncle Felix has everything under control. Surprising, I know. We stay in contact weekly. He is living in my home, packing up my parents’ things, and moving his in because he is starting a new life in Tennessee. If I come back after the year, then he�
�ll move out and find his own place, but if I don’t, he plans to buy the house from me.

  I never expected him to be so helpful. This transition has been great, and I think that’s because of my mom’s hard work. She knew what she was doing. I have to trust her, and I know I have to leave all caution in the wind. Something I’ve never done. I’ve always been the one to be ahead on things, caring for my mother, paying all the bills on time or even days before. I have never just lived, and this is my chance. My chance to be me—Amberlyn Reilly.

  Not sure who that is, but I am excited to get to know her.

  The other great thing about this transition has been that my cousin and I have become instant best friends. Completely awesome, right? I totally love her. She is the sister I never had and simply breathtaking. Fiona is a year older than I am, with sweet, bluish-green eyes and long, brownish-golden hair with high cheekbones covered in light freckles, and pouty lips. She is stunning, slim, but thick in all the right places. The boys go gaga for her in the pub, but she ignores them all. She is my lifesaver, especially when the older customers with the thick brogues come in. I have no clue what they are saying to me, but she’s run the pub for so long that she has no problem getting them what they need while I stand there like a fish out of water.

  I don’t let it derail me though. I am on a mission to make a new life. Hopefully, while I’m at it, I’ll catch on to this language.

  “Céad Míle Fáilte!”

  That’s the name of the bed and breakfast, but that doesn’t mean I know what it means. I glance over to a smiling Fiona, and she says, “He is saying ‘Welcome,’ like a hundred thousand welcomes.”

  “Oh, awesome, thanks! It’s wonderful to meet you!” I gush as I go to the next patron and the next. My night is busy, but that’s what I’ve come to expect from the Céad Míle Fáilte. It’s the best, and the busiest, pub slash B&B in all of Mayo, as numerous people have told me every night.