Page 10 of The Bossy One

“We’ll be there in about ten minutes,” I said.

“Why don’t you live in Dublin? That’s where your company is headquartered, right?”

So she’d looked me up. I wondered what she was getting up to when she’d been so quiet on this flight.

“Dublin’s not so far. Only two hours,” I said. “And most of Snug’s workers are scattered all over the world.”

“Do you work from home most days?” she asked.

“I will while Catie’s here.” I turned onto the lane that led to my mansion.

Olivia shifted in her seat. I couldn’t tell if she was pleased or displeased by that revelation.

We drove in silence until I drove up the driveway and Olivia got a look at my home.

“Oh. My. God,” she said.

My architect had replaced the crumbling Victorian mansion that once stood here with four floors of gleaming glass and polished concrete, complete with an indoor pool in the basement.

“I don’t remember this,” Catie’s voice said from the backseat. Her voice sounded small and uncertain in a way that hurt my heart.

“I didn’t realize you were awake,a stór,” I said gently. “You probably wouldn’t remember. You and your mum moved away when you were two. Normally Granny and I come to see you.”

I parked, then I led Catie and Olivia inside and started the tour. Everything was spacious and posh, decorated in what my designer called “earth tones and natural textures.” Whatever that meant. I just knew it felt relaxing every time I stepped through the door.

“Here’s the nice big living room your granny uses when she hosts her book club,” I told Catie, leading her through one room and into another. “And here’s the smaller oneIlike, with the massive telly.”

Catie pointed at a wall with some art on it, relaxing enough to smile. “I recognize that.”

I grinned. “This is where I normally video chat you from.”

I looked over at Olivia and caught her watching me and Catie with a smile on her face. She quickly looked away, turning to inspect some photos on the wall.

Unfortunately, that gave me the opportunity to inspect her ass. She had agreatass. I feared the rest of her would be equally magnificent, if she ever took that sweatshirt off. I knew Olivia was pretty, but thus far, I’d largely managed to ignore it.

Now that Olivia was living with me, it would be harder to ignore. That might become a problem.

“Who’s this?” Olivia asked, pointing to a striking photo of my da perched on the edge of a boat.

“My grandad,” Catie piped up. “He’s dead.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Olivia said, throwing me a sympathetic look.

I hated that look.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway. The kitchen is that way.”

I showed them the rest of the first floor, with its gleaming kitchen, home gym, and library. I gave Olivia the rundown of my various staff who kept the place running (gardeners, a private chef, housekeepers, et cetera.). Generally they tried to be discreet and do their work when I wasn’t around, or when I was locked up in my office working. I liked my privacy and had never quite gotten used to having staff wandering through my house. But I needed help keeping a place like this running, and people in town needed the work.

I led them up to the second floor, which had the bedrooms and my office. “That’s mine,” I said, gesturing to the door at the far end of the hall.

Catie didn’t listen. She’d found a picture I’d taken of her, Sinead, and my mum having a picnic in the backyard of this house, right after it was built. She stared at the photo of her mum, transfixed.

Olivia looked at me expectantly.

“Most of the other rooms are guest rooms. You can have…er, this one.” I led Olivia to the guest room farthest from mine. It was decorated in shades of pale, creamy yellow and vintage white furniture.

A sunny room for an obnoxiously sunny woman.

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