“I need to talk to you,” I growled. “Now.”
8
OLIVIA
Iset Catie up with an iPad so that she could watch an educational cartoon, then dutifully trudged up to Declan’s office. My stomach was twisting in knots, and my breath felt shallow.
This was it. I was going to get fired. And Sunny Days Childcare had made it very clear if this job didn’t work out, I wasn’t going to get another chance with them.
Two months. I’d just had to get through two lousy months with Declan Byrne—but I hadn’t been able to do it.
I thought of Declan on the plane, snidely suggesting that if people kept firing me it was probably my fault. I hadn’t wanted to consider it, but what if he was right? Was I being too stubborn? Somewhere along the way, had I become a bad nanny?
But no, I refused to believe that. Everything I’d done had been in Catie’s best interests. Maybe if I just explained to Declan…
I held onto that hope until I opened the door and saw his stormy face. He stood with his back to the window, so that I had to look into the painfully bright sky to try to meet his eyes.
When Declan spoke, his voice was deadly quiet. “I told you I wanted Catie shielded from the ugliness of her mother’s situation at all costs. I told you that if you ripped that shield away from Catie, just so you could feel better about not lying, I would fire you.”
I crossed my arms. “That’s not what happened.”
“Oh? Did someone else tell her?” His voice dripped sarcasm.
I didn’t say anything.
“Enlighten me, Olivia,” Declan taunted. I felt like I was being dared to stick my head into the lion’s mouth.
He probably meant to intimidate me. But instead it just made me angrier.
Maybe he was going to fire me. But that didn’t mean he could stop me from fighting for Catie. And honestly, if I was going anyway, I might as well be honest. At this point, I had nothing left to lose.
“Catie asked me who was going to help her mom with her hangovers,” I said.
Declan looked like he’d been punched. “She doesn’t…she doesn’t know…”
“Shedoes,” I insisted. “Catie might not have words for it, but she knows something is wrong with her mom. Something that leaves her with headaches and an upset stomach at the start of nearly every day. Something that has asix-year-oldthinking she needs to be there to get her painkillers and water. And your stupid lie about work was giving her all sorts of brand-new worries. She was havingnightmares,Declan, worried that her mom was going to mess up her big, important job because she didn’t have Catie there to help her feel better every morning.”
Declan’s face hardened. “You still had no bloody right to make that decision on your own. You should have come to me.”
“You don’t listen!” Something in me snapped. I felt positively wild, furious at Declan—atallthe parents and guardians I’d dealt with—who never actually stopped to notice what impact their bad choices had on their children. “None of you listen to me, and your kids pay the price.”
We glared at each other. The air crackled with tension.
The worst of it was, I’d started to think Declan wasn’t like the others. Like maybe, just maybe, he cared more about Catie’s happiness and well-being than his own pride.
Say you understand, I thought.Say you’ll listen.
“I’m through arguing about this. Get out.” He strode to his desk. “The agency found me a replacement this morning. I have no doubt she’ll be a more accommodating fit than you.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. And then reality sank in.
Declan was firing me. He wasn’t even giving me the curtesy of looking at me while he did it.
I turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.
My hands were shaking.
I knew it shouldn’t get to me. God knows I’d been terminated often enough. But there was something about this time that felt different. More personal than it ever had before.