“Please, Mr. Quinn.” Her soft lilt carries surprising steel.
Don’t beg me. It didn’t work for the Mareks, and it won’t work for-
Damn.
Acting on impulse, I jab the speaker button. “No more fuckups. I don’t do second chances, Miss Kelly.”
The breath whooshes out of her. She collapses on my bed with such force it makes her small breasts jiggle. “Thank you, Mr. Quinn. I won’t let you down. Again.”
An irritating spark of emotion ignites inside me when I see that megawatt smile. It’s a smile money can’t buy, and surgery can’t fake.
So now I’m a soft touch.
“Fantastic,” Connor booms, clapping his hands together. “I can’t wait to meet you, Clodagh.”
“Me too,” she calls out, confused.
“Show’s over.” Connor pushes to stand and slaps me on the back forcefully. “Try not to bury yourself inside the nanny.”
“Jesus,” I hiss, glaring at his back as he leaves. He meant for her to hear that.
“Uh, Mr. Quinn?” Clodagh asks in a quiet voice after a long beat. “Do you need anything else? If not, I’ll get back to work.”
I realize I’ve been staring at her. “No. Did you read the instructions for Monday evenings?”
She nods. “I’ll have dinner ready at seven o’clock for both of you. Is option four from the menu list okay this evening? Salmon and roasted vegetables?”
“Sure. Actually, no.” Might as well make her sweat. “Teagan likes a nice huntsman pie. Here’s your chance to redeem yourself. Mrs. Dalton makes a superb version.”
“A huntsman… Great.” Her smile falters for a moment, but she quickly recovers. “Consider it done.”
She pushes her hair behind her ear and grabs the laundry basket. The idea of her handling my underwear seems too intimate.
“Mr. Quinn… will you be watching me any more today? Because it might make me feel a little paranoid.”
“No.” My jaw tightens. “It may surprise you that I have to work, considering I’m the CEO.”
She laughs, holding the laundry basket. “Fair enough. Uh, anything else?”
“That’s all for now.” I pause. “There’s A/C, you know? I’ll show you how to use it when I get home.”
Or maybe I won’t.
I hit the mute button.
“Bye!” Clodagh shouts. Her eyes dart around the room guardedly, wondering if she’s still being watched.
My finger hovers over the app button to close it just as my phone rings.
“Yes.” I put Mandy on speaker.
“Alfred Marek was in reception, demanding to speak to you. Security escorted him outside, but he’s hanging around the building.” She pauses. “I thought you should know.”
“The son?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“About forty-five minutes. Should we call the police? Technically, he’s not doing anything illegal. He’s just watching the building.”
“He’s waiting for me.” I sigh, scrubbing my face with my hand. I don’t have time for this shit. It sounds like Junior didn’t take his dad’s decision well. “Call the police. I don’t want him harassing any of the staff. I’ll talk to them if you need me to.”
“Right away, sir.” She dials off, and I turn back to the screen to where Clodagh is cleaning.
I have somewhere to be… but…
I hit the zoom button, zooming… zooming… zooming until Clodagh’s face covers the screen.
Heat courses through my veins. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, wondering why I’m entertaining the thought of bending my disobedient nanny over my knee for not paying heed to the man of the house.
This is fucked up.
Mrs. Dalton’s daughter needs to recover ASAP.
***
Go lasadh solas na bhFlaitheas ar d’uaigh.
May the light of heaven shine on your grave.
I stare at the Irish blessing and photo of Harlow on her tombstone, stuck in time.
Smiling, carefree and excited about what the world had to offer her. Excited that she was a mother.
Except I took all that from you, Harlow.
I took your hopes and dreams and your future.
You had so many dreams.
To be a mother to our beautiful daughter.
To prove that the kid from the wrong side of Queens was worthy of the New York Ballet.
To retire in a small village on the coast of Ireland, with your children around you.
I took it all from you.
I’m sorry I failed you.
I’m sorry I failed Teagan.
Time heals all wounds. Isn’t that right, Harlow?
Wrong.
Teagan’s nearly thirteen, Harlow. A teenager. I can’t believe our little girl is growing up so quickly.
I don’t know why I’m telling you, you’d never forget that. I’m taking her to see some pop star with floppy hair for her birthday, but knowing Teagan, she’ll have gone off him and be madly in love with some other runt.
She’s still wearing makeup, covering up her beautiful face, but when I say anything about it, we fight. I need you more than ever. It was easier when I was checking the closet for monsters. Now I need to check that she hasn’t hidden her phone under the bedsheets so she doesn’t spend all night on it.
We have another replacement for Mrs. Dalton. My nannies wouldn’t run away if you were here. My nannies wouldn’t be needed if you were here. Not that I’m allowed to call her a nanny. Teagan says she’s too old.
I think you’d like this one, although she seems like a loose cannon. She’s testing my patience. You were always more forgiving than I am.
I need you to talk back.
But of course, she doesn’t, because the dead leave you alone with your own tortured thoughts.
I lay the fresh flowers on the grave. Visiting Harlow’s grave is the only time I visit Queens. Sometimes with Teagan, often alone.
No one knows about my spontaneous midday trips here. I need to come, but it’s too painful to stay.
“Bye, Harlow,” I say quietly. I clench my jaw and walk back to my driver.