Page 64 of The Bossy One

Sympathy filled her face. “Declan, I know what it’s like to lose somebody.”

“Not like this, you don’t,” I snapped.

She flinched.

I knew that was cruel of me, but I needed her to understand. “Your parents…it’s terrible what happened, it absolutely is, but it was an accident. For me it’s different. Mark O’Rourke has never faced asingle fucking consequence for what he did.”

Olivia’s voice gentled. “I just thought, this is a community event. Something the whole town participates in. Don’t you want Catie to have a chance to experience it? Don’t you worry that you might be letting your hatred of O’Rourke build a wall between you and the rest of the town?”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. “How are you not getting this, Olivia? Mark O’Rourke wasdrunk. He was drunk and reckless, and he killed my dad. So no, I’m not going to his damn party. And no employee of mine is either.”

When I saw Olivia’s face, I realized I’d gone too far.

She didn’t look pissed. No, she looked terrifyingly calm. She took a deep breath. “I realize this is a sore spot for you, so I am going to forgive you for what you just said. But Molly invited me to go to the festival with her, and I’m going to accept. You might be my boss, but it’s my day off. And you don’t get to control where I go, or who I see.Ever.”

“Olivia…” I warned.

She slammed her dishes down on the counter. “Declan, it’s clear we’re not going to agree on this. I thought this would be a good way for us to spend time together. Obviously I was wrong. Enjoy your day with Catie.” Then she stormed out of the kitchen.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day throwing myself into work, while Catie slouched in the beanbag chair and watched cartoons on one of my spare laptops.

I’d been going at it for several hours when my phone buzzed with an incoming video call from Anil. “I’m taking away your email privileges. I can’t believe you just called one of the most influential tech journalists an arse.”

“Heisan arse,” I grumbled.

“Arse is a bad word,” Catie chimed in from the corner.

“Is that Catie?” Anil asked. “Catie, why is your uncle in such a snit?”

“He had a fight with my nanny,” Catie said.

I whipped my head toward Catie. “You heard that?”

Catie gave me a judgmental look. “You shouted and then she left. You keep doing that.”

“I didn’t….” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Look, it’s complicated,” I said to Anil. “But I’m right about this.”

Anil looked skeptical. “You know how we say that in business, it’s better to be flexible and successful than stubborn and a failure, even if you’re right?”

I didn’t like where this was going.

“The same applies to your personal life.”

“Screw you,” I said and hung up.

Catie gave me another judgmental look.

“I know, I know, ‘screw’ is a bad word.”

Catie stood up. “Can I have one of the desserts since you said so many bad words?”

“You cannot,” I said.

She crossed her arms. “It’s past my snack time. I’m hungry.”

I looked at the clock and barely refrained from swearing again. She was right. It was almost dinnertime.

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