Page 48 of The Bossy One

“No!”

“Uh-huh. I saw the way you looked at him at lunch the other day.”

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not to him,” Molly reassured me. “Men are oblivious. Speaking of which, do you want to go on a double date with me and my on-again-off-again boyfriend? He’s got a cousin in town who’s apparently ‘not that boring.’”

I laughed. “You make him sound so appealing.”

“You said you needed a distraction,” Molly reminded me. “Come on. You can give me a fresh opinion on my man. Half my friends think I should bin him for good and the other half think he’s no worse than any other lad.”

Privately, I thought if she had to ask what someone else thought about the guy she was dating, she already had her answer, but maybe Molly was right. A night out could be fun.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s do it. It just has to be after Catie goes to bed, or a night when Declan doesn’t mind me clocking out early.”

Molly beamed. “Brilliant.” Then her face got more serious. “Er, did you really mean it about doing a children’s book together? Because I’ve got a friend who works for a small publishing company up in Dublin. She loves my art style, and she’s said more than once I should pitch her if I ever find the right writer to partner with.” She rolled her eyes, looking a bit self-conscious. “Or, I mean, we don’t have to do anything that serious, we can just mess around…”

I hadn’t known Molly that long, but even I could tell she didn’t want to mess around on this project. She wanted to give it a real shot.

The more I thought about it, the more her enthusiasm sparked mine. “No, let’s do it. Let’s make something you can pitch your friend.”

Molly squealed.

With any luck, I’d be too busy to think about sex with anyone—especially my boss.

15

DECLAN

Ispent most of Monday in Dublin putting out one fire after another at work. When Sinead called for her nightly call with Catie, I was still on the road, a good twenty minutes from home.

“I can send you Olivia’s number,” I told Sinead. “She’ll put you on with Catie, if you’re in a rush.”

“Why would I be in a rush? It’s rehab. There’s nothing todo,” Sinead complained.

I laughed. “You can put that on the comment card when you leave. ‘Sure, they helped me with the addiction thing, but at what cost?’”

Sinead snickered. “See, that’s why I missed you. All the Americans here are too fucking serious.”

Outside, the countryside flew past as I drove. At this time of the day, with the sun setting, everything looked lush and gorgeous. Like home. “You could move back, you know. No serious Americans here.”

Sinead made a noncommittal sound and deftly changed the subject. “Speaking of which. How’s your American working out for you?”

It took me a moment to realize she meant Olivia. “She’s good. Catie likes her. She knows things about taking care of kids I never would have thought of.” Honesty made me add, “We had a bit of a rough go at first, but I apologized, and now we’re all grand.”

Sinead gasped loudly and theatrically. “Youapologized? Declan.” She lowered her voice to a mock-whisper. “Do you like her?”

I rolled my shoulders. “No. I… I mean, it wouldn’t be professional if I did. So. No.”

I could practically hear Sinead’s delighted smile through the phone. “Oh my God. You have the hots for the nanny,” she teased, full of bratty-little-sister glee. In spite of myself, I was actually glad to hear it. She sounded like herself again. “Could you be any more of a cliché?”

I groaned. “It’s not that. I mean, yes, she’s fit. But it’s more…” I searched for the right words. I didn’t know how to explain it. “It’s just her. She’s brave, and she’s stubborn, and she’s got this smile…”

“Oh,” Sinead said, and this time there was no laughter in her voice. “This is real.”

“I don’t doreal,” I protested.

“Maybe you should,” Sinead said.

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