The girl entering the kitchen inherited her father’s genes. Unlike him, she has fiery-red hair, similar to mine. Did her mother have red hair?
She’s wearing a red checkered skirt past her knees with a tie and knee-length socks. I would have raised hell on earth if I was made to wear that at her age.
The only hint of rebellion is the black eyeliner.
“Hi, Teagan.” I beam at her. “I’m Clodagh. I’m really excited to meet you.”
She eyes me guardedly. Another trait shared with her dad. “Hi.”
Does she know who I am? “I’m the new nanny maid. I mean domestic assistant,” I announce for clarity.
She rolls her eyes so far back in her head her pupils are in danger of disappearing around the back of her sockets. “I got that.”
I put breakfast down in front of her. “I hope it’s how you like it. Just tell me if not.”
“Thanks.”
Just as I’m about to talk, Teagan takes out her phone and scrolls through it with one hand as the other pushes her food around her plate.
I lean uneasily against the sink, wishing Mrs. Dalton had added instructions about engaging with a moody father-and-daughter duet. I’m supposed to keep her off her phone, but I don’t think it would be wise to start our time together by scolding her.
“So you go to the Upper East Side Ladies’ Academy?” Sounds posh.
Her gaze flickers up for a moment. “Yeah.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s alright.” She gives me a strained smile before turning her attention back to her phone.
This is messed up. How does she not want to have a conversation with a stranger who’s moved into her home?
I persevere. Sooner or later, I’ll hit common ground. “The manual says you do ballet. I’ve always wanted to try it. It sounds fun.”
“I guess if the manual says it’s fun, it must be,” she sneers.
“It wasn’t an option when I was in school,” I add cheerfully, ignoring her snark. “Maybe you can show me some moves.”
She gives me a strange look. “Sure.”
“I teach yoga classes in my spare time,” I continue. “It’s supposed to be great for ballet dancers.”
My new housemate doesn’t respond.
I’m talking to myself. The Quinn family is as enthralled by their new lodger as they are by a spider on the wall.
While Teagan eats her breakfast glued to her phone, I go over my daily tasks.
In twenty minutes, she’ll be taken to school by a driver and security guard. That sounds awful. When I was her age, gossiping with Orla on the school bus was the best part of my day.
This one is going to be a hard nut to crack.
Killian
“The Mareks have folded,” Connor says from across the boardroom table, a triumphant gleam in his eye as he looks up from his laptop. “Their lawyer emailed five minutes ago.”
I recline in my chair, admiring the New York City skyline through the window. Seventy stories up, my private boardroom is the only place I can enjoy the sun these days. “I’m glad they found common sense.”
“I’ll give the contractors the nod to start demolition. With a fair wind, we’ll have the foundation of the casino built this side of Christmas.”
I nod my agreement. “Are we done?”
“Yup.” He rocks back in his chair as he rotates his shoulder. “Just in time for my massage. Are you sure you don’t fancy one? Maybe she can help you relax a bit, you know, take the stick out of your backside. You need it before you schmooze the mayor.”
Ignoring him, I open my laptop and click on the home security app.
My laptop screen lights up with a multi-screen view of all the rooms in my house. A soft Irish female lilt sounds through the laptop speakers. I search for which room she’s in.
“Which reminds me… are we bringing dates to this schmoozing dinner?”
It takes me a minute to register his question. Dinner with the mayor about the Brooklyn casino development. I’m hosting it so we can discuss openly what the old guy needs to cut the red tape on the design restrictions imposed by the council.
“That depends.” I glance up at Connor. “If you’re bringing someone who models for Playboy, then no.”
“You’d prefer me to bring someone in pearls and a cardigan?” he drawls.
“Someone who won’t paw you at the dinner table would be nice. The mayor is bringing his wife.”
“You’re asking a lot from a lady there.” He smirks and folds his arms over his chest. “And who are you bringing?”
“Maria Taylor.”
Connor hums in approval.
Meeting Maria was a surprising turn of events. For the first time in a long time, I might have found someone who could hold my interest. Ivy League-educated, and an absolute head turner.
“Nice. She’s a good match for you. Maybe you’ll consider something serious.”
“It’s business rather than pleasure this time. She’s friends with the mayor’s wife.” Although I have considered trying something serious with Maria. It’s been a long time since I had something more intimate than sex. Recently, I’ve been feeling like maybe it’s time to try again.
“Good call.” His brows draw together. “What’s that sound?”
“I’m checking on the new Mrs. Dalton,” I say grimly, maximizing the room with the movement.
My hand freezes over the mouse.
My bedroom.
Connor leans over and connects my laptop to the boardroom projector so Clodagh appears in full size on the screen.
I stiffen.
She’s in my bedroom, her back facing the camera. She’s in shorts so tiny they could pass for underwear and the same white tank top from this morning. Her red hair is tied up in a messy ponytail, and a sheen of sweat glistens on her back as she moves around my bed, adjusting the pillows.