Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SELENE
Without a glance back, I strode from the hotel and onto the sidewalk. My feet didn’t stop moving until I reached the small park across the street. I placed a hand over my trembling heart, gripping the charm hanging from my neck, and the cool air hitting my face reminded me to breathe.
The park was nothing more than a stretch of grass with a scattering of trees and two weathered benches facing the hotel, but it felt like a much-needed sanctuary, a place where I could gather myself.
A drop of water hit my hand, and I glanced upward.
The sky had lost the blue patches from earlier that morning and was now the dull gray of impending rain.
I honestly hoped it did rain.
What had happened…or what I’d imagined had taken place…hadn’t. There was no possible way a light fixture could just freeze in the air. I’d been in a moment of panic, which meant my recollection was skewed.
I dropped onto the nearest bench and leaned forward, elbows on my knees, and pressed my thumbs against my forefingers. “Unbelievable.” The word slipped from my lips along with my exhale.
I quickly completed a mental review of all the work we’d done, searching for anything that might have caused the chandelier to fall.
If the stunning light fixture had been part of the restoration scope, then maybe, but it hadn’t been.
We hadn’t touched it. We’d placed no ladders near the mount, and we hadn’t disturbed the wiring.
It wasn’t us.
I filled my lungs and straightened, confident in my assessment. Cillian would likely end up involved. Maybe he could talk sense into Mr. Doyle, but I would worry about that later. Right now, I just needed to breathe and collect myself.
I hated to leave Clara to deal with things, but the hotel owner had targeted me with his anger, and I knew he wouldn’t be open to listening to me.
An unwanted voice crept in, suggesting that if I’d been more aware, I might have prevented the disaster.
The room had warned me, after all. I just hadn’t understood.
The way everything seemed off reminded me of Maeve and her thin places. The hotel was old and held a certain hum that I felt rather than heard. Perhaps it was one of those places, and that was why everything about the project had felt distorted?
I shook my head at the thoughts I never would have entertained while living in the States and wondered if some little fairy had stolen my sanity along with my wits. That was as likely as anything, considering my state of mind.
I focused on solid objects like the large tree next to me and the red sedan parked in front of the hotel, letting them ground me. I had always trusted spaces. Had always been able to read them. And they had always, without exception, trusted me back.
A pigeon fluttered down onto the grass in front of me. It didn’t flinch when I shifted. It came closer. Then another one followed. Then a third edged toward me with unnerving purposefulness. I should have been alarmed, but I just couldn’t.
“Not today,” I muttered.
A breeze moved through the park, but instead of brushing past me, it curled around me, lifting the loose strands of my auburn hair from my shoulders before settling again. The air felt thinner afterward, sharper, carrying a quality I couldn’t name and didn’t particularly want to.
The streetlight on the corner flickered once, then steadied. Across the park, a dog being walked by a woman in a yellow coat stopped abruptly and looked directly at me. Even from a distance, I sensed the connection. It pricked its ears forward, lowered its tail, and stared.
I pressed my palms flat against the bench, wondering what it saw that I couldn’t. Had I suddenly become an oddity in the world? It sure felt like it.
A thought that had dabbled in my mind for days took shape, and I wondered again if I’d been cursed. Many people in these parts believed in such things. Perhaps I should search my flat for a piseóg. I wouldn’t put it past Mrs. Geraghty to sneak one in.
“Selene?”
I looked up to find Maeve standing at the edge of the path with her coat pulled tight around her. She hadn’t been in the lobby when the world had crashed down, but she’d obviously heard about it.
Concern dimmed her usual vibrant expression as she made her way to me and sat without asking, which I appreciated. “Are you okay?”
I tried to laugh, to shrug off my feelings, but it quickly fizzled. “I’m fine. How’s Clara?”
A twinkle landed in her gentle gaze. “She’s managing things as she always does.”
I stared off into the distance, doing my best not to focus on the hotel. “I feel bad deserting her like I did.” I shook my head, not happy with my response. “I don’t think we’re at fault, but I should have known something was wrong.”
Maeve’s calm presence gave my emotions room to breathe, and tears quickly gathered at the corners of my eyes. I tried to blink them back and failed.
She patted my forearm. “It’s okay. If you need to cry, then cry. Holding it back’ll do you no good.”
I sniffed and wiped at my eyes. “I’m fine, really. All designers encounter setbacks and disappoint clients. Though this might be a little more than that.”
A smile touched her lips. “Perhaps a little. But it’s not your fault, Selene. We had nothing to do with the chandelier. Mr. Doyle has calmed some, and he seems to be listening to Clara.”
I swiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s just…this is my first time misreading a space, and I guess I’m not handling it well.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her warm embrace. “You didn’t burn the place down, so I’d say you’re handling it just fine.”
Her teasing comment drew a laugh I hadn’t expected. “I guess there is that.” My instincts urged me to ask her about curses, but the logical side of me argued against it. Still, if there was anyone who’d understand, Maeve would.
I shifted on the bench to face her fully. “I feel like I’ve been cursed. When I first arrived in Ireland, everything was delightful bliss. Meeting Cillian. My cozy flat in an area of town where housing is scarce. And working with you guys, doing something I love. It’s been amazing.”
I exhaled a deep breath. “It’s more than I deserve.”
Maeve gave me a squeeze. “That’s not true.”
I lifted my shoulders in a questioning shrug and filled her in on the rest. “Suddenly everything has changed. I’ve been so clumsy the past few weeks. I’ve misplaced things, and don’t tell Clara, but I dented my car.”
More tears escaped as I poured out my worries. “And now this with Mr. Doyle. I know these kinds of things happen all the time, and I’m no one special. But it’s just been so much all at once.”
I clamped my hands to both sides of my head to steady myself. “I listen to myself and think I surely must be losing my mind.”
Before she could respond, I waved a hand between us.
“Forget I said all that. I’m going to ask Cillian for a few days off if he doesn’t fire me.
I’ll get my head on straight. Maybe find a therapist. Between losing my aunt, coming here for a visit, and ending up staying…
That’s a lot for one person in six months, right? I probably just need some downtime.”
A light chuckle escaped her as she took my hand. “Slow down, Selene. Your thoughts are going a million miles an hour. First, yes, that’s a lot of change. But that doesn’t mean you’re crazy.”
The sound of her lilting voice calmed me. “Are you sure?”
“Sure, I’m sure.” Her smile grew bigger. “Now, if you want to talk about curses, I won’t deny they could be true. My gran swears they are.”
I slumped my shoulders as my defeat returned, and I quickly filled her in on my interactions with Mrs. Geraghty. “If anyone wanted to curse me, it would be her. She once called me a cal-yuck or something like that. Do you know what it means?”
Her eyes grew into wide ovals, along with her mouth. “Do you mean cailleach?”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, that was the word. Is it some kind of curse?”
Maeve’s surprise quickly morphed into laughter. “Oh, ho ho. She called you a cailleach?” She gripped my hand as she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “That’s a witch, Selene. She called you a witch.”
I wrinkled my nose, my irritation at the woman growing in spades.
“Unbelievable. If anyone’s a witch, it’s her.
Actually, bitch is a better description.
I don’t know why she hates me. I’ve done nothing to her, but she can’t be the least bit cordial.
Ireland might be known for its friendly people, but she’s not one of them. ”
My friend’s expression remained lit. “She’s not talking about that kind of witch. Not the slang version.” She squeezed my hand. “She means an actual witch. The kind with powers.”
I blinked. And then scoffed. “What? Why?”
Before she could respond, I tacked on another thought. “If she truly believes that, shouldn’t she try to be my friend instead?”
Maeve now seemed truly entertained by the idea. “I can’t say, Selene. There must be something about you that made her say it. You already know I think you’re a ward witch.”
I narrowed my gaze. “You’re not helping.”
She chuckled. “Fine, but I doubt your neighbor cursed you.”
A second later, Maeve tilted her head to the side as if reconsidering. “You might not have left Killarney empty-handed though.”
Alarm blasted me with bright fear. “What do you mean?”
“Your foray into the grove that only you saw. Sometimes places…linger. You don’t always leave them behind.”
Had something followed me? No, I didn’t believe that.
Gods, I didn’t know what I believed anymore.
I forced in a breath, trying to steady the churning chaos of my thoughts. “So, what do I do?”
A knowing smile curved her lips. “My gran used to make a grounding tea. For when someone picked up something that wasn’t theirs to carry. I’ll bring some by your flat. Maybe it will help.”
I didn’t know if I believed it would work, but at least it was something. “Thank you. That sounds wonderful.”
Before I could bask in the knowledge that my sanity might be saved, the universe threw another curveball that hit me square in the gut.
Cillian’s sleek black car pulled in behind the red sedan in front of the hotel across the street, and I groaned. “Is this really my life?”
Maeve shifted her gaze, following mine, and released a soft “Oh.”
My boss stepped out, immaculate as ever, and moved with the unhurried ease of someone who’d never faced uncertainty in his life.
My heart gave one heavy, involuntary thud as I jumped to my feet. “I need to talk to him before he goes inside. If he’s going to fire me on the spot, I don’t want it to be in front of everyone.”
I took a couple of steps before I glanced back. “Don’t forget the tea. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
The pigeons scattered as I rushed across the lawn, calling out my boss’s name. Cillian turned, not appearing the least bit surprised that I was in the park instead of at my job. I squared my shoulders and reminded myself that even if he let me go, I could still choose myself.
If the worst happened, I could pack up and go back to Washington.
I had a home waiting there, and even if I couldn’t use my time in Ireland as a work reference, I’d find a new job one way or the other.
And maybe, just maybe, whatever had attached itself to me wouldn’t be able to follow me across the ocean.
Cillian waited patiently for me to join him, and as I approached, I prayed the pleasant expression on his face was a good sign.
I sent him an apologetic smile. “I guess you’ve heard. I’m so sorry, Cillian. I think I may have completely botched this job, and if you need to fire me, I completely understand.”
He cocked his head and blinked, and then, to my considerable surprise, he laughed. It was a genuine sound, unguarded and completely unexpected. “Fire you? Selene, I was planning to reassign you today.”
I shook my head in confusion. “You’re offering me another project?”
Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “Maeve and Clara can finish up here. I have something much larger in mind that requires your specific skill set.”
My stomach tightened again, and this time it wasn’t from humiliation. His offer had come out of the blue, ripping me from an expected path to something entirely different, and I needed a moment to settle.
The breeze tugged once more at my hair, as if urging me forward, and behind me the park had gone strangely, completely quiet. “When you say large, how big are we talking?”
Cillian’s gaze held mine for a beat too long before he chuckled. “Significant might be a better description. Don’t worry. It’s nothing you can’t handle. I’ll forward the details shortly. We’ll meet with the clients tomorrow morning. I’ll send you the address.”
He gestured toward the hotel with an open palm.
“I’ll head inside and smooth things over with Mr. Doyle.
Take the rest of the day off. Maybe buy yourself a nice dinner.
I know how unforeseen circumstances can upset a person, but this is nothing a good meal and a nice glass of wine can’t fix. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Cillian strode away as though my world hadn’t been turned on its head more than once that day. I stood frozen until Maeve came up behind me. She didn’t pause, but she did wink. “A nice dinner, a glass of wine, and a cup of the right tea.”
That sounded perfect because, suddenly, I was more exhausted by life than I could explain.