8. Declan
8
DECLAN
O livia had only been on the job for six days when I got an email from Sunny Days Childcare, saying they had a new nanny available who met all my requirements, and asking if I wanted to interview her. I stood in the kitchen eating a late breakfast over the sink and eyeing my phone, feeling irrationally torn over how to respond.
On the one hand, I could tell that Olivia had been making an effort to follow my rules for Catie. She hadn’t told Catie the truth about Sinead. And she’d found a middle ground between strict discipline and spoiling Catie rotten. If Catie wanted something, Olivia either said yes, or she suggested they get to it later in the week instead, so Catie had something to look forward to. Personally, I thought Catie deserved anything she wanted immediately, with no strings attached, but Catie seemed happy enough with the arrangement, so I’d been willing to live with the balance Olivia had struck, at least until I had a better option.
I’d gotten used to seeing her around in the mornings, still soft from sleep, with all that unruly hair of hers piled on top of her head in a way that exposed her graceful neck. To hearing her voice drift through the halls of my house. To glancing out the window and seeing her and Catie laughing in the backyard.
Sometimes when she smiled at Catie it was hard to look away.
I shoved those thoughts aside. Simply getting used to a woman was no reason to keep her on staff.
You know how much Olivia needs this job , something disturbingly like my conscience whispered.
It’s just business , I told myself, and typed out an email telling them I had time for an interview this afternoon.
The doorbell rang, blasting a terrifyingly chipper ABBA song through the whole house. I winced. I’d made the mistake of mentioning over dinner that my doorbell could be programmed to play any music you could stream online. Now Olivia and Catie kept changing it. Under the guidance of her new nanny, Catie had discovered a love for Swedish disco.
I went to open the door and found my friend Thomas standing on the front step. As always, his lean, sandy hair was a welcome sight. But his face looked grim.
“Are you here as my friend or as my lawyer?” I asked.
“Both,” Thomas said. “It’s about the O’Rourkes.”
I led Thomas back into the kitchen and started filling the electric kettle for tea. I was doing my best to appear calm, but my whole body was tense. “They’re not selling after all?”
“They’re selling. But they’re not selling the mansion,” Thomas said. “They’ve listed two of the smaller properties.”
I slammed the kettle down on its base with more force than necessary. I’d always known there was a possibility they wouldn’t choose to sell the mansion. But I’d wanted my revenge badly enough that I’d only focused on the outcome I wanted.
“Do you want to buy the smaller properties?” Thomas suggested helpfully.
“ No ,” I gritted out. “It has to be the mansion. I want him to fucking suffer.” The O’Rourke family had been a poison in this town for far too long. Playing fast and loose with other people’s lives, and then hiding behind their money and power when disaster struck. That mansion was more than their ancestral home—it was the symbol of their position in town. They sat in that house and moved the rest of us around like chess pieces.
No, it had to be the mansion. I need Mark O’Rourke’s power to come to an abrupt, public, humiliating end. And I was finally so close to it that I could fucking taste it. Somehow, some way, I had to make selling the mansion their only option.
“Is this a bad time?” Olivia asked timidly from the doorway. “I was going to grab some snacks for Catie.”
Thomas and I turned to her. Her red curls were scooped up in a perky ponytail, and she wore leggings and a comfortably worn T-shirt that clung softly to her curves. Nothing fancy at all, just relaxed and natural…and very, very pretty. Thomas gave her an appreciative look, and I felt my hackles rise a bit, even though I knew Thomas was very happily married. And even though I knew it was none of my business who appreciated Olivia.
“It’s not,” I said firmly. “Thomas, this is Catie’s nanny , Olivia. Olivia, this is Thomas, my friend and lawyer.”
“Nice to meet you.” Olivia gave a friendly smile, then crossed to the kitchen to pull out a plate of snacks my chef, Maeve, had prepared in advance for Catie, apparently inspired by something Americans called “Lunchables.” Maeve and Olivia had bonded, apparently, and it had led to a variety of…interesting additions to my usual menu.
“Don’t mind Declan’s temper,” Thomas said to Olivia. “We’re going up against a local bully in a business dealing, but they seem to have outmaneuvered us.”
“Temporarily,” I said.
Olivia grabbed a juice box and closed the door with her hip. “Well, is there anyone else you can bring onto your side to stack the odds in your favor? I used to nanny for a CEO, and that was his go-to tactic whenever he was losing.”
Thomas shook his head. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t really apply here.”
I straightened, the beginnings of a strategy unfolding before me. “Maybe it does.”
Olivia saluted me with the juice box and left the room to return to Catie.
When my eyes returned to Thomas, I found him watching me with eyebrows raised. “So. That’s your live-in nanny.”
“Shut it,” I said. “She’s staff. And anyway, she’s annoying.”
“You don’t look at her like she’s staff,” Thomas said mildly. “Or like you find her annoying. You know, it might be good for you, spending time with a sunny, can-do American. It could brighten up some of that gloom you’re always carrying around.”
I crossed my arms, ignoring his efforts to get under my skin. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Is there a way to get the city council to tie up the sales of the smaller properties in red tape? If Mark O’Rourke needs money now, and we can find a legal way to delay any other sale for long enough…”
“He might move on to listing a different property,” Thomas finished. “I’ll look into it.”
I grinned, wolfishly satisfied. I was going to get those bastards yet.
A fter Thomas left, I found myself unable to settle back to work, so I wandered out to where Catie and Olivia were playing in the backyard.
Or rather, Catie was playing. For reasons I tried—and failed—to fathom, she seemed to be turning over every stone she found in the overgrown garden, and holding up the bogs she found for Olivia’s inspection.
Olivia’s chipper voice rang out as I approached.
“Oh! That one’s so big!” She edged back from the worm Catie was proudly holding.
“You hold it,” Catie ordered.
“Um, that’s okay.” Olivia took a step back. “How about you return it to its home when you’re done holding it?”
“But it’s so cool ,” Catie pressed, and I swallowed a laugh at the look on Olivia’s face.
Apparently, I’d found my insanely chipper nanny’s weakness.
“Here,” I said to Catie. “I’ll hold it.”
Catie dropped the worm into my hand. It was cold and slimy, but undeniably fascinating.
“Did you know that if you cut a worm in half, both sides will still live?” Catie told me eagerly.
“Actually, that’s only true for some kinds of worms,” I said. “For this type, only the tail half lives.”
Catie looked down at the worm in my cupped hands. “Which half is the tail half?”
I gave Olivia a mischievous look.
“No,” Olivia said, waving her hands. “Absolutely not. We are not cutting bugs in half.”
“Probably for the best,” I agreed. “Want to put this back in the garden, love?” I asked Catie.
She took the worm and placed it back in the dirt.
Olivia breathed a sigh of relief.
Maybe playing with bugs brought out the annoying little boy in me, but I heard myself telling Olivia, “Careful. There’s a snake by your left foot.”
“What?!!” Olivia jumped to the right and clutched my arm, peeking back over her shoulder with terror. I was probably an arse for enjoying the sensation of her pressed up against me like that.
I lost the struggle to contain my laughter, and Olivia slowly relaxed as she realized I was pulling one over on her. She released me, trying to look stern as she shook her finger at me. Fortunately, she had enough of a sense of humor not to be too angry over the prank.
“That wasn’t nice,” she said mildly.
I grinned. “Whatever made you think I was nice?”
I held her gaze long enough that a blush spread across her cheeks.
That blush did things to me.
I stepped back, rubbing the back of my neck. Maybe Thomas had a point.
“When my mom comes back from the special hospital, we can look for bugs together,” Catie announced.
My eyes sharpened. Had I heard her wrong? “The special hospital?”
“For your brain and your feelings, so that you can get better if you drink too much alcohol,” Catie recited. “Do you think Mom will like worms better, or spiders?”
What the…?
My eyes snapped to Olivia’s. I felt heat rush through me. And this time it wasn’t lust. It was rage.
And to think, just minutes earlier, I’d actually been feeling guilty about the idea of interviewing other nannies. Meanwhile, she’d been blatantly disobeying me, all because she thought she knew what Catie needed after six days better than I did after six years.
Hiring her— trusting her—had been a mistake.
Olivia tilted her chin up, defiant. Like she’d been spoiling for a fight ever since we’d met on that damn plane. I thought back on all the things she’d told me—all the parents she’d defied because, as she claimed, she was looking out for the children. Was that how she’d describe this to some poor soul stuck next to her during a flight when I kicked her the hell out of my house and my niece’s life?
“I need to talk to you,” I growled. “Now.”