11.
Maggie
A yellow weather warning was announced on the news the next morning as I got ready for work. I was still all mixed up over Shay, full of intense feelings about him kissing me, but dismayed he’d revealed something personal about me to Rhys without asking permission first.
I honestly couldn’t tell if I were overreacting.
He’d sent a text last night that read, Did you get home okay?
I’d responded with a thumbs up emoji and left it at that.
Well, at least it was Monday, and I only had Jonathan Oaks’ empty penthouses to clean. I put on my raincoat and grabbed my large umbrella before heading out. It was raining moderately heavily, but if the forecast was anything to go by, it would worsen as the day went on. I wasn’t looking forward to trudging through the wind and rain on my way home that evening, but at least I could have a warm soak in the tub when I got back.
A bubble bath always made life infinitely better.
Shay waited under the shelter when I arrived at the bus stop. He wore a raincoat, too, but his face and lower half were soaked. His eyes flared when he saw me, still as questioning as they’d been yesterday when I’d left his house.
“Didn’t you bring an umbrella?” I asked, worrying my lip as I cast my gaze over him. He shook his head, and I frowned. “You’ll catch your death.” Shay shrugged, still eyeing me like he wanted to say something. I blew out a breath, closing my umbrella as I stood next to him and glanced at the monitor. The bus should be arriving any minute, though the estimates weren’t always accurate.
A moment of quiet passed before I spoke. “I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly yesterday. I was just a little upset you told Rhys about me. About my dyslexia, I mean.” I glanced at him, searching his gaze, and saw surprise there. He started to shake his head, then reached into his pocket for something when the bus arrived. We climbed on board and sat. Shay retrieved his phone and what appeared to be a set of air pods. He handed them to me, motioning for me to put them in. I did, curious as to what he might be up to. Then he lifted his phone and began typing. A few seconds later, a prim AI voice that sounded like a generic British man spoke in my ears.
“I didn’t tell Rhys about you,” the voice said. It pronounced the name wrong, Rice instead of Reese. Other than that, it was impressive. I glanced at Shay in surprise.
“Was that you? You’re using the app?”
“Yes,” the voice replied, and I couldn’t hold in my amazement. I was admittedly not great with technology, so it was blowing my mind a little. The woman sitting in the row in front of us turned her head, her expression curious, but she quickly turned back around, not wanting to appear nosy.
I glanced at Shay. “You really didn’t tell Rhys about me?”
“No,” he answered through the tiny buds in my ears. I felt like an idiot for getting upset over nothing. Why hadn’t I stayed and asked him to clarify things instead of rushing off like a fool? It was embarrassment and shame. The two things that typically made me act in ways I ended up regretting.
“He suggested this app because he thought it might allow us to communicate better, so you could just speak and listen while I type. I was hesitant to use it because I worried you might take offence. I honestly don’t mind waiting for you to read my messages.”
“I wouldn’t take offence. You’re always so patient with me,” I said, my mind suddenly racing at the possibilities. The app would be a game changer for us. Now that I knew my privacy hadn’t been intruded upon, I could appreciate how thoughtful it was of Rhys to suggest the app. I mean, it was admittedly strange having Shay talk to me through the bland computerised voice, but it was far better than what we’d had at our disposal so far.
I shifted my body, turning to face him. “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
“You’re not an idiot,” he replied, and I noticed his eyes were still on mine. He was so skilled at typing on his phone he didn’t even have to glance at the screen while he did it. “I should have explained myself better. I would never reveal private information you told me in confidence to anyone, Maggie. You can trust me on that.”
It really was odd and honestly, overwhelming, to suddenly be able to talk to him so smoothly. The back and forth was so much faster than before. “I do trust you,” I told him, swallowing thickly as I glanced around the bus. Most of the other passengers were either absorbed in their phones or trying to catch a few extra winks of sleep before they arrived at their destinations.
“This is so strange,” I said then. “Being able to talk with you. I’m a bit nervous.”
Shay tilted his head, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Why?”
“I guess I’ve just been so curious about you, and now that I can ask you anything, I’m drawing a blank.” I laughed softly.
“That’s okay.” A pause. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I replied, nerves thrumming as I waited for his question.
“A few weeks ago,” he began, “you arrived at the bus stop one evening, and you looked like you’d been crying.”
“Oh,” I breathed, the memory of that horrible day flashing back to me. How belittled I’d felt by Mrs Reynolds, and then how much better I’d been when Shay had brushed my arm as we exited the bus. It was the silent comfort I didn’t know I needed from him.
I met his gaze. “Yes, I remember that day. I’d had a rough time at work.”
Shay frowned. “What happened?”
“A woman I clean for, she can be very difficult to please sometimes, and if I mess up and make a mistake, she turns vicious. I’d been on the receiving end of one of her tirades that day.”
His frown intensified. “Does she do that often?”
I picked at a loose thread in my scarf. “It depends. She’s actually been okay the last few weeks. I think it’s because her husband’s birthday is coming up, and she’s throwing him this big fancy surprise party. She’s been too swept up in the preparations to pay me much notice.”
“I don’t like the idea of you working for someone who treats you poorly,” Shay replied, and I somehow felt his protectiveness, even though the voice in my ears wasn’t really his.
I shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers, and I’ve worked for worse people in the past. Mrs Reynolds’ bark is worse than her bite. You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle her.”
Shay studied me, not looking convinced. I was touched he still remembered that day, that his concern for me had been so great it was the first thing he wanted to talk about now that we could communicate more easily.
“Thank you for worrying, though. It’s nice to be considered.”
“And that week I didn’t see you on the bus,” he went on, his eyes soft and curious. “Where were you?”
A trickle of shame fell over me as I recalled avoiding him for an entire week. But I’d been embarrassed about running off on him and didn’t know how to fix the awkwardness I’d created. “I, um, I took an earlier bus to work and then a later one home in the evenings that whole week,” I responded and Shay’s eyes softened further. “I was just so worried I’d offended you by rushing off. I hated the idea of you thinking it was because of you being mute and not my own personal shame of not being about to read your message. I was scared to face you.”
“I was concerned about you,” Shay typed. “I thought you might be sick, or that something happened to you.”
“I’m an idiot. I should’ve just turned up and explained myself and instead of leaving you to wonder like that.”
“You can’t have known I’d wonder,” he replied, holding my gaze.
There was something about his eyes that held me captive. I barely knew what I was doing when I reached out and wiped away some of the raindrops that dotted his forehead. He remained still, his eyes glued to me the entire time. The air in the bus felt thicker and my pulse spiked sharply.
Feeling self-conscious, I drew away and noticed we were nearing our stop. I pressed the button, and the ding sounded for the driver. Shay stood, and I handed him back his air pods, making sure not to damage them or get them wet because I knew they were expensive. I pulled the hood of my rain coat up and prepared for the short walk. At least the penthouses were only five minutes from where I got off.
“Do you want to take my umbrella?” I asked Shay. “You have a longer walk ahead of you than I do.”
He smiled at the offered kindness but shook his head, signing something at me that looked like, I’ll be fine.
“Okay, well, see you later.”
Bye, Maggie, he signed, his eyes warm. They were a lovely contrast to the horrible weather outside. Happiness radiated through me. I was so glad we’d been able to talk and patch things up. I hated being mad at him, I realised. Shay was such a comforting presence in my life, and I didn’t want anything but harmony between us. I was already looking forward to the journey home when we could talk through the app some more.
We alighted, and I hurried down the street, my umbrella shielding me from some of the rain but not all of it. I worried about Shay getting drenched and hoped he kept a spare uniform at the hotel he could change into.
When I reached the penthouses, I quickly stowed my wet coat and umbrella by the door, then rushed to dry off in the bathroom. My top was wet, so I peeled it off and lay it across the heated towel rack to dry. I needed something to dry my hair with, but the only option was to use one of Mr Oaks’ towels. Panic and indecision seized me because the towels weren’t for my use. If I did use them, I’d have to launder them, and then Mr Oaks might think I showered in his apartment while I was supposed to be cleaning. Then it could get around to my other clients and …
No. I was overreacting again, just as I had at Shay’s house yesterday. I’d basically walked through a rainstorm to get to work. The least my employer could do was allow me to use one of his towels to dry off. Conservatively, I plucked the smallest hand towel and scrunched the dripping ends of my hair.
My panic had just started to simmer down as I emerged from the bathroom, scrubbing my wet hair and wearing only leggings and a thin tank top. I stilled, abruptly realising I wasn’t alone.
Jonathan Oaks, the man I hadn’t seen since the day I started working for him, stood by the kitchen island, a small espresso cup held to his lips.
“Mr Oaks. I wasn’t expecting you,” I said, my panic returning tenfold. Why did I always pick the wrong option? I should’ve gone with my gut and done my best to dry off with toilet paper or something. I was even more embarrassed by my clothes. My damp tank top was practically glued to me, leaving little to the imagination. My cheeks flamed hot.
A flicker of amusement passed over his features. “That much is obvious.” A pause as he eyed me up and down. “Is that my towel?”
“What?” I asked, pulse thrumming as I glanced at the small towel bunched in my hand. “Y-yes, my apologies. I got caught in the rain and was just drying off.”
“No need to apologise. I’m surprised you’re here at all, given the weather warning. My driver is running late because of a road that flooded in his area, which is why I haven’t left yet.”
“I see,” I said, swallowing thickly and willing myself to relax. He just said I didn’t need to apologise. That meant he wasn’t bothered about me using the towel. I needed to chill out. “Well, I hope the flood eases soon. I’ll get right to work. Oh, and I’ll put this towel in the laundry.”
I hurried back into the bathroom, grabbing my jumper and pulling it on, even though it was still a little bit damp. I’d suffer the unpleasantness rather than standing in front of my employer with my bra almost showing a second longer.
“Miss Lydon,” Jonathan said when I came back out, his attention wandering over me once more, but not in a lascivious way. His assessment was clinical. It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, even if he was a tall, handsome man, and I was a little intimidated by him. That was probably because of the expensive suit he wore. Why were people so much more intimidating when they wore suits? I briefly wondered what Shay would look like in one but quickly pushed away that particularly enticing daydream.
“Yes?” I replied, smoothing my hands down over my top.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around very much since you started working here. I tend to leave early and get back late. How have you been finding it?” he asked.
“Well,” I replied, surprised he was interested. I always imagined Mr Oaks as someone who didn’t want to know about the live human being who cleaned his apartment. He’d prefer to imagine invisible pixies came in on Mondays and set everything to rights. “I already told you, I don’t think you need me for the full day. I can usually get finished by two in the afternoon.”
His lips formed an amused slant. “So, you’re telling me I’ve been paying you for several extra hours every week?”
“I tried explaining this when I started, but you thought I was trying to get out of doing a proper job.”
“I like to maintain a level of suspicion with new employees. But now that you’ve proven yourself and the penthouses are always spotless after you’ve cleaned them, I see I can trust you.”
“Well, I’m glad. Does that mean you want to adjust my hours? Because I’d be happy to only bill you for half a day.”
Jonathan ran a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. I guessed he was nearing forty, but he still had an enviously full head of dark blond hair. “It means I might have another job for you.”
I blinked, “Pardon?”
“Do you like being a cleaner, Miss Lydon?”
I shrugged, indifferent. “It pays the bills.
“Would you be open to another position? A better paid one?”
I studied him, wondering if he was serious. “Of course, but—”
“I own a medium sized investment firm, and I’ve had some trouble of late with my building manager. I discovered he was stealing money from me.” He cast me a cynical glance.
“Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
He waved me away. “He was always a bit of a shifty one. I should’ve known he was up to something when he told me the call out fee for a plumber was five hundred euros.”
I gaped at him, knowing from personal experience most Dublin plumbers only charged between eighty to a hundred and fifty per call out. I supposed that was the downside of being as rich as Mr Oaks. You didn’t give as much attention to the price of things.
“He’d been regularly pocketing the extra few hundred for himself. Obviously, I had to fire him, which means there’s a vacancy that needs filling, and I’ve had trouble finding the right candidate. I need someone I can trust. You’ve had unsupervised access to both my penthouses for over a year, and you’ve never stolen so much as a bar of soap from me. What do you think?”
Time froze as I stared at him. Was I dreaming? Because that was the sort of dream I had on occasion, someone coming along and offering to change my circumstances, whisk me away to a better life. Well, it perhaps wasn’t that, but it certainly wasn’t every day I was offered a brand-new job without having to go through the stress of searching and applying and being interviewed. No more scrubbing toilets. No more vacuuming.
“You’re offering me the job of being your building manager because I never stole any soap?”
He nodded, and I began to realise Mr Oaks was someone who didn’t beat around the bush. “Are you interested?”
I worried my lip. “I’m not exactly qualified.”
“Qualifications are overrated, and you seem like a fast learner. You’d be in charge of a team of cleaners, and you’d need to arrange for maintenance people to come and fix things when they break. There are a few other duties, but it’s not rocket science, Miss Lydon.” He eyed me, and my pulse thrummed. His offer seemed too good to be true. “The salary is fifty thousand a year, plus benefits. Think about it, and let me know. You have my number.”
With that, he knocked back the last of his espresso and checked his watch. “Ben still hasn’t arrived, so it looks like I’ll be catching a taxi to the office this morning.”
“Have a good day,” I said to him as he left, still reeling from his job offer. Fifty thousand a year was almost double what I earned. I didn’t know what the benefits were, but they were surely better than my current ones. Ahem, the non-existent kind.
I was in a daze when I finally started cleaning. The job could greatly improve my life. I’d be a fool to say no, but I was also hesitant. One, because I had clients who I really liked, such as Mr Cole and the Connollys. They’d been able to rely on me for years, and I didn’t like the idea of quitting on them. Obviously, the same sentiment didn’t apply to Mrs Reynolds.
And two, well, I’d never been in charge of other people before. Being a manager might pay better, but what if it came with a heap more stress?
Then I thought of Vivi, Robbie, Shelly and Eamonn. How much I could improve their lives with greater earnings. Of course, I’d never plan to take them away from their foster parents, but if I could save enough for a bigger place to live, then they could come and stay with me for weekends or school holidays. They could stop by whenever they wanted.
I was full of optimism as I thought about all the ways the job could improve not only my life but the life of my siblings, too.
Almost to counterbalance my optimistic mood, the weather worsened greatly by the end of the day. I grimaced as I put on my raincoat, which had thankfully dried since the morning, though it was about to get soaked again. I hurried out but was disappointed when I didn’t see Shay at the bus stop. Maybe he was running late because of the weather. I closed my umbrella and joined the others waiting under the shelter when a car horn beeped.
A silvery grey SUV had pulled up just past the bus stop and Shay threw the door open, waving me over. Surprised, I hurried to the car and found Rhys in the driver’s seat. Stephanie was next to him while Shay sat in the back.
“You look like you could use a lift,” Rhys said, and I was filled with gratitude as the rain poured down on me.
“Definitely. Thank you.” I climbed in next to Shay, who, unlike me, was perfectly dry. “Hey,” I said, my eyes meeting his, and his attention ran over me. “Sorry I’m so wet,” I went on, and Shay shot me an amused glance. Embarrassed, I shook my head at him.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Shay Riordan,” I whispered.
He caught my hand as Rhys pulled away from the bus stop, eyeing me through his middle mirror. “Where to, Maggie?”
I replied with my address, slightly distracted by how Shay had now taken both my hands and was warming them between his.
“Gosh, this weather is diabolical,” Stephanie commented. “I don’t know how you manage relying on the bus, especially on days like this.”
“It’s certainly not my first choice,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too sarcastic as I tried not to find offence in what she said. Not everyone had fiancés to drive them around.
“How was your day?” Rhys asked, his eyes meeting mine through the mirror again as Shay continued to silently warm my hands. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, but it was no use.
“Oh, really good actually. I was offered a new job,” I glanced at Shay and found him studying me with interest.
“That’s great,” Rhys replied. “What kind of job?”
“A man I clean for, Jonathan Oaks, owns an investment firm, and he needs to hire a new building manager. It seems he had some trouble with his old one, so he wants someone he can trust.”
“Jonathan Oaks?” Rhys said, seeming to recognise the name as he frowned.
“Do you know him?” I asked, curious.
Rhys’ expression was a little tense. “I’ve met him a time or two. He’s an acquaintance of the Balfes. I don’t mean to be the barer of bad news, but I’ve heard he’s an absolute bollocks to work for, Maggie. A real mercurial fucker. His new hires regularly quit in the first month because he’s so tough on them.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised by this. “Are you sure? I’ve never had any issues with him. Then again, today was only the third time I met him in person. He’s usually never home when I clean for him.”
“Well, that’s probably why you haven’t had problems,” Rhys said. “Listen, it’s far from my place to tell you to refuse the job, but just give it some thought before accepting, yeah?”
“Sure, of course,” I said, my stomach twisting as I considered Rhys’ advice. A gloom had been cast over prospect of a new position and better pay. If I became his building manager, I’d have to be around Mr Oaks a lot more often, which meant he was more likely to be an “absolute bollocks” to me, as Rhys put it. The question was, would he be worse than Mrs Reynolds?
I brought my attention to Shay, who was still warming my hands in his. He studied me questioningly, a flicker of concern in his gaze like he was worried about me taking the new job, too. If I did it meant I might not be taking the same bus as him to work each day. I wouldn’t get to see him as often, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to give that up.
Shay finally released my hands, and I willed myself to relax. Being so close to him in the back of the car had my skin tingling in awareness, or maybe that was just my rain-soaked clothes. He pushed some wet strands of hair away from my face, and I was so lost in his keen attention I barely noticed the journey going by. Rhys and Stephanie chatted, but I couldn’t focus on what they were saying.
When we finally pulled up outside my flat, I was full to the brim with tension from all the small ways Shay had touched me. On the surface, they were casual and harmless, but the way they made me feel inside was far from casual.
I opened the door, thanking Rhys for the lift when I looked back to Shay. “Do you want to come in for a while?” I wasn’t sure what compelled me to invite him in, but I just knew I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. Shay nodded, then signed something at Rhys before climbing out of the car.
Nervously, I pulled out my keys and slotted them in the door. There was no sign of Siobhan or Bob today because the weather was so bad. I imagined they were sitting in Bob’s kitchen right now, drinking tea and setting the world to rights. I was just glad they weren’t around to witness me brazenly inviting Shay into my flat.
There was no denying why I’d asked him in. I wanted him to kiss me again.
We hurried inside to get out of the rain, and I quickly went to turn the heating on. Shay’s clothes were mostly dry thanks to Rhys giving him a lift, but I was in dire need of something warm and toasty to wear. It was at that exact moment I realised the problem with the layout of my studio flat. There was nowhere private to change except for the bathroom.
“You can sit,” I said to Shay, motioning to the couch. “I’ll just be a minute.”
I gathered some underwear, socks, a hoodie and a pair of leggings, then shut myself in the bathroom. I was aware of his presence the entire time I dried off and changed, goosebumps claiming my skin. Shay was in my flat.
We were alone.
I combed out my wet hair after drying it as best I could with a towel, then I brushed my teeth, put on some deodorant and emerged from the bathroom. Shay still sat quietly on my couch, texting someone on his phone, presumably his dad. He was probably letting him know he’d be home a little later than usual. He’d taken off his raincoat and left his wet boots by the door. I appreciated the small consideration and was struck by how much seeing him relaxing in my tiny flat affected me. He made the place feel warm and occupied when it was usually cold and a little empty.
He lifted his gaze from his phone, his eyes starting at my fluffy socks before travelling slowly up my body. I suppressed a shudder.
“Are you hungry? I haven’t gone shopping in a few days, but I should be able to find something to rustle up.”
Too nervous to wait for an answer, I went into the kitchenette to check the cupboards. To my irritation, they were almost bare. My fridge also had precious little food, and I felt awful for not being able to cook something for Shay after he saved me from a horrendous journey home from work.
“There’s not much here, but I can pop out to the shop and grab something,” I said, turning around and discovering him behind me. He signed something I suspected was Don’t worry about it, or It’s fine.
I leaned back, gripping the edge of the countertop as I struggled to deal with the urge to reach out and touch him. Why did I always deny myself the things I wanted? Where exactly had that gotten me in life? It might’ve saved me a small measure of heartbreak, but the price for that was loneliness. And I didn’t want to feel lonely anymore.
I wanted to feel connection.
Bright, buzzy, exhilarating connection.
And that was why I stepped forward and weaved my arms around Shay’s neck. Being so tall, he dipped his head down a little, his eyes wide with curiosity at what I was doing. I wasn’t wearing a bra under my hoodie, so when I stepped into the circle of Shay’s warmth, and my breasts brushed his hard chest, a small gasp escaped me. I stared up at him, desire the driving force behind my actions when I pressed my lips to his.
Just like that, his arms came around my waist, gripping me tight. I kissed him eagerly, my tongue seeking entrance to his mouth. He held mostly still, letting me explore. His citrusy cologne and the natural comforting scent that was just him surrounded me. My fingers inched towards the back of his scalp, then slowly travelled down his neck, featherlight. A gruff breath left him, and I yelped when he suddenly lifted me and carried me over to my bed.
The mattress creaked when he lowered me, our kiss momentarily broken before his lips returned to mine, and I closed my eyes.
That was it.
That was what I needed.
A connection I didn’t want with anyone but him.