Page 63 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

“You resigning will go down like a lead balloon. You do know that?”

“Yes. I also understand the predicament I’ll be leaving them in, but I can’t continue to work here. As you’ve said, Dylan must have known this was on the cards for some time. The fact he didn’t bother saying anything shows how little regard he had for my feelings. While I appreciate we were just fuck buddies, he still should have made that fact known. Shit like that’s disrespectful. In fact, it’s unforgivable.”

“You have feelings for him?”

“Yes. But when I distance myself, they’ll soon disappear.”

“Coming from someone who's been there, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“What else can I do, Jaine? He’s one half of an arranged marriage!” I sound frustrated and pissed off. I never get short-tempered. I pride myself on the fact I always remain unruffled. It’s the first time I’ve let my guard down and my true feelings show in front of anyone since him.

“Nothing. All you can do is chalk it down to experience.” She ignores my outburst because she gets it.

“You warned me this would happen.”

“I warned myself it would happen to me too. It didn’t stop me from making the same mistake.”

“Fools.”

“That’s exactly what we are.”

“Maybe Dyl’s new woman is an accountant.”

“That’s unlikely. Accountants versed in our life are way more difficult to source than lawyers. That’s the reason Eoin approached me in the first place. Still, we’ve gotten them through the IRS issue relatively unscathed, which is all we ever agreed to do. JAA never signed up as a long-term solution to their problems. And your services were only ever contracted. Never employed.”

“Will you still speak to him after all this? Dylan?”

“Would you want me to?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll go with whatever you decide, Jessie. I’ve used him as my personal crutch for long enough. Maybe it’s time for both of us to let go. Keep me posted. I’m only sorry I can’t be a fly on the wall.”

“Fergal would probably chuck his paperweight at you.”

She laughs out loud. “True.”

* * *

Candice is sittingin her usual spot outside the meeting room, looking her tall, willowy self and dressed in a pale grey suit. I take in her creamy complexion, dark hair, and large hazel eyes. She looks beautiful. Immaculate as always. She also looks miserable. Because like me, she’s lost her O’Connell fuck buddy.

Unlike me, though, she’ll sit there and take whatever Eoin dishes out on the chin. Whereas Jessie? Now that I’m clean out of self-pity? I’m not taking anything on the chin. Not from anyone.

“Jessie. You can’t go in there.”

“No? Just you watch me.”

The heels of my stilettos click on the marble floor as I storm past and open the door before she can stop me. Not that she tried very hard. She barely rose from her seat. Maybe, deep down, she wants me to confront these assholes too, on behalf of us both.

I know Cillian’s absent as he’s on his way to the west coast on a family trip but there are still seven of them sitting around the table, mouths agape, eyes staring at yours truly.

The hum of discussion I could hear before I opened the door has stopped. I’ve stunned them into silence.

Yup. I’ve still got it.

Jessie O’Brien broken? Never. At times I may be down, but I’m never out.

“Jessie, what are you doing here? We rescheduled our meeting until next week.” If looks could kill, I’d be toast. Fortunately for me, they can’t.

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