Page 21 of The Bossy One

I sent a quick goodbye to @1000words and logged off. Then I approached Catie’s room. She didn’t look as upset as she had before, so I risked sitting down on the carpet next to her.

She handed my phone back without saying anything. But she didn’t say she hated me, which I considered progress.

“Did you get enough to eat?” I asked.

She nodded.

I cast about for something else to say. My eyes fell on the bookshelves. I remembered what Olivia had said about kids needing structure and routine.

I was used to structure and routine feeling stifling. But you could have good routines too.

“Do you want me to read you a book?” I asked. “Like I do over the phone, when your mom has to work late?”

Catie nodded, tentative.

“Maybe we could do that every night,” I say. “After you finish your talk with your mum. I mean mom,” I corrected myself.

This time Catie’s nod was firmer. She picked a book about purple elephants and snuggled up against me.

For the first time all night, I relaxed.

6

OLIVIA

Catie and I stayed close to home for the next few days, developing our own little routine. First, breakfast and playing outside for a bit. Then we’d head inside for some educational games and activities. I had plenty of favorites online that I’d bookmarked, and it didn’t take long to find some that matched Catie’s abilities and interests. Sometimes Declan would eat lunch with us, if he wasn’t too busy. Then Catie and I would go on a walk down to the heart of the village and back.

Declan had been right. It was a ridiculously short walk through town, and nothing much to do beyond walking. But everyone we passed gave a friendly wave at Catie, who would shyly wave back. After our walk, we’d read for a bit, then play whatever games Catie wanted until dinner. Declan was almost always there for dinner, though he tended to vanish back to his office afterward. But he always emerged in time to read her a few books and tuck her in for the night.

This day was a bit different, though. Declan had needed to head to Dublin for work, and he’d shared that Catie’s grandma, Marie, was champing at the bit to see her granddaughter. So at 7 a.m. sharp, we had all piled into the car so that Declan could drop Catie and I off at Marie’s house in Galway on his way to work.

Normally, I would have protested the early hour, but the other option would have been another stressful day driving on the wrong side of the road, or using the driver Declan kept on staff. I’d run into Declan’s private chef the other day, and she’d given me the scoop on what I needed to know about working for Declan. Specifically, she’d explained that the “driver” Declan kept on staff was a kindly villager in his seventies who was brilliant at keeping Declan’s cars in top shape, but no longer felt confident driving anywhere outside of the village. Since Declan preferred to do his own driving anyway, he hadn’t noticed. And since none of the rest of the staff needed a driver, it wasn’t a problem. I didn’t want to be the reason an old man lost his job, so I’d promised her I could drive myself if I needed to.

Which was how I ended up spending the wee hours of the morning in a small, enclosed space with Declan.

Catie was in the back of the car, soundly asleep again. I’d say this for her: she was the kind of child who could fall asleep anywhere.

I snuck a glance at Declan, who stared straight ahead, a mild frown creasing his gorgeous brow. “Thinking about work?” I guessed.

“Hmm?”

“You were frowning,” I explained.

“And you were staring?” he countered.

I felt my cheeks heat, so I turned to look away. Maybe Ihadbeen watching Declan, more than I normally would with my employers. But none of my employers had ever looked like Declan.

His low, quiet voice cut the silence. “I was thinking about a friend. They asked for advice, and I haven’t heard how it turned out.”

That was…a more human response than I’d expected. Most of the time he was this scowling, grumpy, chronically busy billionaire. But every now and then he’d show a flash of vulnerability.

We drove the rest of the way in silence.

We double parked in front of his Marie’s brightly colored row-house, and Declan carried the sleeping Catie inside. He was so careful with her, you’d never think he was the sort to lie to a child to make his own life easier.

And yet, he clearly was.

Marie opened the door before Declan had a chance to knock. She was tall and dark-haired like Declan, with striking blue eyes. But she had as much silver in her short hair as brown, and there was a soft, round feel to her I couldn’t imagine on Declan.

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