29. Catriona
Twenty Nine
Catriona
Iam sleeping with my boss!
Ever since leaving Rian’s office yesterday morning, that sentence has played on repeat in my head.
I am disgusted with myself even as excitement keeps sending my body into high alert. Rian brought me to a level of pleasure unbeknown to me – it was like driving a Ferrari while my two previous boyfriends were electric cars running low on battery.
I am sleeping with my boss!
Glancing up at the dark clouds above my head, I sigh deeply and quicken my steps down the street.
Thankfully, I’m not slowed down by high heels, but the rain clouds still win.
The first drops hit me, and I curse myself for not bringing an umbrella – and for not bringing lunch to work which means I have to spend precious money on an overpriced sandwich.
I was simply too preoccupied this morning – my mind constantly replaying what happened in Rian’s office.
I shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t have done it.
Sleeping with my boss is definitively not part of my career plan.
I’ve become the person I’ve always despised.
Well, it’s not like I expect to achieve a promotion from my affair with Rian, but still, I’m ashamed and utterly disappointed in myself.
I know that most of this shame comes down to the issue of my dad: that I’m the result of an affair Mum had with her boss.
Her married boss.
It was the usual story of the boss taking advantage of his young employee.
At only nineteen, she was overwhelmed by his attention, the gifts and promises.
He elevated her position from typist to office clerk, feeding her tales of how she could progress in the company under his guidance, as long as she worked late, behind the locked door of his office.
Mum innocently thought it was true love and that this was her Cinderella story, the poor girl from the wrong side of town marrying the king and they would rule the world together.
She believed him when he said he would leave his wife, and they would live happily ever after.
Not so much.
When Mum discovered she was pregnant, Dad accused her of tricking him, of getting pregnant on purpose.
It all came to a showdown when his wife found out.
It became a big scandal. All Mum’s colleagues – her friends – turned their back on her for sleeping her way up the ladder. She was forced to leave her job.
My father dutifully paid minimum child support and still sends me token money for Christmas and birthdays.
Over the years, we’ve sporadically spoken on the phone and occasionally met in person.
It’s always awkward and lacks sincerity.
He’s still married to his wife and has three children, all older than me.
I know that seeing me reminds him of his mistakes and regrets.
At one point during my teenage years, I rebelled, challenged my dad and called him all kinds of names.
The rebellion was followed by a period of refusing to have anything to do with him.
His lack of effort to make things right hurt even more.
It wasn’t until my late teens that I finally realised all the resentment I felt towards him only hurt myself.
Letting go of the anger would set me free.
But it’s easier said than done. You don’t have to be a genius to see that my drive to prove myself is really about proving I’m worthy.
Knowing that my dad probably doesn’t love me, knowing that, to him, I’m nothing but a bad conscience he has to deal with, well, it still hurts.
And now history is repeating itself.
The only difference between Mum and me is that for me, there are no dreams or hopes to break – I know it’s only sex between Rian and me – I’ve no starry-eyed illusions of a happily ever after.
“Miss Taylor!”
I groan and stop in my tracks. There’s no doubt who is calling.
Not only does his familiar deep voice send unwanted sparks up my spine, but no one else calls me by my last name.
With my head tucked down to shield me from the rain that has escalated from drops to a shower, I hadn’t noticed Rian striding up next to me, of course, well prepared with an umbrella in hand.
“Mr Kearney.”
“Where are you headed? Can’t you see it’s raining?”
“I’m just getting a sandwich, and since it’s raining, if you don’t mind, I’ll keep going.”
“Bet you’d love an umbrella…”
I hate his smug face.
“Aren’t you a smartass.” I narrow my eyes, trying to shoot daggers, and he laughs.
“I’ll walk you down.” He holds the umbrella a bit higher to allow me room under it.
“There is no need, Mr Kearney, I can…”
“Stop being ridiculous. I can’t afford for you to get a cold and take sick days just because you’re too stubborn to accept a friendly offer.”
“Fine!”
I huff but step under the umbrella.
“I think…you should have the turkey sandwich with cranberry and goat cheese.” Rian grins down at me as we queue up - Rian has decided to get a sandwich as well.
“A Christmas sandwich in spring?”
“Well, nothing like Christmas to cheer someone up. Maybe it would melt that frown off your face.”
There’s pressure at my lower back - his hand. We stand way too close for me to think straight. I try to hide the hitch in my voice behind a snort. “Well, I think you need to get that stupid smirk off your face. Why don’t you have blue cheese with pickled onions, gherkins and jalapeno on granary?”
“Fuck.” He huffs and scrunches up his face. “That sounds disgusting.”
“Sounds like something that would be served in one of those fancy Michelin star restaurants that you go to.” I bite my lip to stop a smile.
“They don’t serve that where you eat?”
“Chowder and fish ’n’ chips.”
“Sounds better than blue cheese and gherkins,” he mumbles, the smirk back on his face while studying the blackboard.
Silence settles between us while we wait our turn.
He makes circles with his fingers on my back, circles that must hold magic like the carvings on druid tomb stones, as I can feel the touch all the way down to my toes.
I swallow hard as he glances down at me.
We haven’t spoken about what happened in his office yesterday, both trying our best to act normal.
But there’s nothing normal about his hooded eyes or the way my mouth has gone dry.
It’s too warm in here. I unbutton my jacket. Rian’s gaze turns even darker.
The fresh air outside the deli is a relief, I take deep gulps of it while worrying how to get back to the office now that the rain has progressed to torrential proportions.
A big, warm hand grabs mine. “Come on, run!”
I squeal and take off with my boss, the umbrella unable to keep us dry for the short run along the canal to the KSS building.
“I bet you regret playing the role of the knight in shining armour now!” I laugh, shaking the water off my hair and clothes as we enter the reception area.
“Yes, this is the last time I’m a gentleman.” Rian grins back. His gaze travels down and shamelessly rests on my chest, where the rain has made my shirt cling to my skin. My nipples harden and my heart picks up a beat, and not from the running. His grey-green eyes spark with mischief and lust.
“Rian!”
Rian stills at the sound of the clipped voice. A wall falls over his features. I turn and see Arthur Kearney standing by the door, a dry umbrella in hand.
“Dad.” Rian’s voice is emotionless, so different from seconds ago.
Arthur’s gaze land on me, and I quickly bring the sides of my jacket together, hiding the evidence of rain and how Rian affects my body. It is strange seeing them together, so alike, Rian a younger version of his father.
I am sleeping with your son.
“Catriona. Awful weather, isn’t it?” There is no friendliness in his tone.
I’m surprised by his standoffish attitude.
Arthur Kearney is known to be a very amicable man, and although I’ve never worked directly with him, he’s shown interest in my career progression ever since I started at KSS.
One of the things that I like about him is that he’s made an effort to know the name of almost every employee, at least those based in the main office.
But now he’s looking down his nose at me.
He reminds me of Rian at his worst.
“Mr Kearney. Yes, hopefully it’s just a short spring shower.” I quickly glance up at Rian. “Thankfully your son saved me from becoming completely drenched.”
Arthur’s brows furrow as he shifts his focus back to Rian. His son doesn’t offer any further explanation, he just stands there, not saying a word. A very awkward silence settles and I’m not sure what’s going on. Is Rian ashamed of being seen with me?
A heavy sensation forms in my stomach. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Well, again, many thanks, Mr Kearney,” I tell Rian, my tone all weak. “I’ll see you back in the office.”
He doesn’t look at me. I tip my head to Arthur and quickly make my way to the stairwell, that bad feeling only growing. As I ascend the stairs, I squeeze my eyes shut while holding on to the banister, fighting the tears that threaten.