Chapter 9 - The Woman in the Mirror
Cormac did not propose the next night.
He waited four months.
June never let him forget it.
“You said tomorrow.”
“I said I had something planned tomorrow.”
“You deliberately implied—”
“I was shot recently. My memory is unreliable.”
“You've been using that excuse for six months.”
“It remains medically relevant.”
The truth was simpler.
Cormac wanted his old life settled before asking June to enter his new one.
His legitimate businesses were separated from the criminal network.
Federal agreements were complicated.
Some investigations remained open.
Cormac didn't magically become innocent because he fell in love.
He answered questions.
Paid penalties.
Lost companies.
Lost money.
Former associates abandoned him.
Others threatened him.
For perhaps the first time in his adult life, Cormac accepted consequences rather than controlling them.
June respected that more than any grand gesture.
Meanwhile, Holloway's Diner flourished.
June expanded the kitchen.
She launched a catering company.
Not because Cormac asked.
Because she wanted to.
Her first major booking was a hospital fundraiser.
Cormac arrived wearing a tuxedo.
June was carrying potatoes.
“You clean up nicely,” she said.
“So do you.”
“I'm wearing an apron.”
“I noticed.”
He kissed her cheek.
A twenty-four-year-old server named Ashley watched them.
Later she cornered June.
“Can I ask something inappropriate?”
“You're twenty-four. I assume that's most things.”
Ashley grinned.
“What's it like dating him?”
“Annoying.”
“No, seriously.”
June looked across the ballroom.
Cormac was talking to a surgeon.
At fifty-three, he had gray in his beard, scars across his hands, and enough history to fill a courthouse.
Yet when he caught June watching, his entire expression softened.
June smiled.
“Unexpected.”
Ashley sighed.
“That's so romantic.”
“Wait until you hear him snore.”
That night, June stood before her bedroom mirror.
She wore a black dress she'd bought for the fundraiser.
For years, she'd avoided mirrors longer than necessary.
Tonight she studied herself.
Lines around her eyes.
Soft stomach.
Silver strands at her temples.
She remembered Ray's jokes.
Nobody wants an old cook.
He'd probably never understood how deeply they'd landed.
Cormac appeared behind her.
“You're staring.”
“So are you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Cormac stepped closer.
June's eyes met his through the mirror.
“You know why.”
She turned.
“Say it.”
“You're beautiful.”
“Even at forty-eight?”
“Especially at forty-eight.”
“That's a suspicious answer.”
“June.”
She smiled.
Then he did something strange.
He handed her a key.
She stared.
“If this opens another locked room containing criminal evidence, I'm leaving.”
“It opens the building next door to the diner.”
“What?”
“I bought it.”
Her expression hardened.
Cormac immediately added, “For myself.”
June relaxed slightly.
“Explain.”
“I want to open something.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“A casino?”
“No.”
“A nightclub?”
“No.”
“Extortion consultancy?”
Cormac sighed.
“A community kitchen.”
June stopped joking.
He told her.
The building would offer culinary training for widows, single parents, former prisoners, and anyone trying to restart.
No Riley name on it.
No publicity.
June stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because someone once gave me breakfast when I didn't deserve it.”
Her eyes burned.
“That was scrambled eggs.”
“They were persuasive.”
June kissed him.
When she pulled away, she noticed something inside his jacket pocket.
A small box.
Her heart stopped.
Cormac saw her looking.
“Damn.”
“Is that—”
“No.”
“Cormac.”
He backed away.
“You've ruined it.”
“You carried an engagement ring to my bedroom and expected me not to notice?”
“It was intended for tomorrow.”
June started laughing.
Again.
Tomorrow.
“Absolutely not.”
Cormac frowned.
“What?”
“You're doing it now.”
“I have reservations.”
“Cancel them.”
“There are flowers.”
“They'll survive.”
“A quartet.”
“Cormac.”
He stared at her.
Then slowly removed the box.
“No speech?”
“I had a speech.”
“Give me the short version.”
He opened the box.
The ring was elegant.
Simple.
Nothing like the enormous jewels she would have expected from him.
June's eyes filled.
Cormac didn't kneel.
Instead, he stood eye to eye with her.
“I spent most of my life believing love meant protecting people from everything.”
His voice grew rough.
“You taught me it means standing beside someone while they choose their own life.”
June swallowed.
“I can't promise you safety. I can't promise I'll become easy to live with.”
“You won't.”
“Thank you.”
“Continue.”
He smiled.
“I can promise no locked doors.”
June laughed through tears.
“No disappearing.”
“Yes.”
“No lies.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Cormac looked directly at her.
“No treating you like you're too old to be wanted.”
Her tears finally fell.
“June Holloway, I don't want your youth. I don't want some version of you from twenty years ago.”
He took her hand.
“I want the woman standing here.”
June kissed him before he could ask.
Cormac laughed against her mouth.
“Is that a yes?”
“No.”
His face fell.
June held out her left hand.
“You haven't actually asked me anything.”
Cormac stared at her.
Then laughed.
“Marry me.”
“That wasn't a question.”
“June.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
He slid the ring onto her finger.
Then his phone rang.
They both stared at it.
“No,” June said.
Cormac silenced it.
It rang again.
“Absolutely not.”
Then June's phone rang.
She answered.
Donna was crying.
“June, turn on the news.”
They did.
A photograph filled the television.
Raymond Holloway.
The headline beneath it made June's blood turn cold.
New evidence had emerged in the Mercer investigation.
Evidence suggesting Ray had not merely gathered information.
He had secretly controlled millions of dollars that belonged to Doyle's organization.
Money that had never been recovered.
Then the reporter said the amount.
Thirty-one million dollars.
June looked at Cormac.
“I don't have thirty-one million dollars.”
“I know.”
The reporter continued.
Federal investigators believed Raymond had hidden the money shortly before his death.
Cormac went still.
June knew that expression.
“What?”
He looked toward her engagement ring.
Then toward the old framed postcard on the dresser.
“No.”
“What?”
“Ray didn't hide money.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the ledger wasn't about money.”
Cormac grabbed his coat.
June stared.
“Where are you going?”
“To the diner.”
“Why?”
May you like
Cormac looked at her.
“Because I finally know what Ray hid behind the grill.”
