“I’ll be in the kitchen with the caterers,” I say haughtily, not bothering to glance back at him.
I don’t need to, to know his eyes are burning into the back of me. I can feel it.
One point for me, zero points for Killian.
***
The doorbell rings. That’s my cue. I make my way to the entrance hall.
The hallway fills with perfume and cologne as they stream in together. Killian is at the door greeting them.
Counselor Menendez and his wife. JP Wolfe, the Quinns’ third business partner, arrives alone. He looks Spanish or maybe Italian and has the lowest drawl I’ve ever heard.
“Clodagh,” Killian murmurs as I come up behind him. He puts his hand on my lower back. “Would you mind taking their coats, please?”
Killian helps Mrs. Menendez remove her coat, engaging in small talk with the couple.
Huh. So he can be charming. Just not to me.
I take the ridiculous fur coat from Killian just as the bell goes again.
Folding the coat over my forearm, I open the door.
My heart plummets.
Maria.
Clodagh
Maria.
The beautiful brunette from the hotel. Her dress goes past her knees, but the slit leaves nothing to the imagination.
Everything is perfect. Her brown hair is styled in curls that float around her face and shoulders. Her beautiful features are done up in natural makeup, while her tailored, royal-blue dress hugs her body. Is she trying to match her outfit with Killian’s eye color?
There’s no way a guy wouldn’t find her attractive.
Her eyes scan me, assessing me.
“Hello. And you are…” she asks in a clipped tone.
“Clodagh’s my staff,” Killian casually announces behind me. “She’s serving drinks tonight.”
“Hello,” I say just as stiffly back.
Upon learning I’m just staff, Maria’s annoyance immediately dissipates.
She walks past me into the hallway and pulls Killian in for a hug, kissing him on the cheek. Laughing, she murmurs something to him so I can’t hear it. He chuckles back.
“Let me take your coat,” he says, helping her lower it.
My heart burns with pain as I watch their exchange. Killian puts his hand on her lower back, just as he did with me. There’s an intimacy shared between them as if they’ve slept together.
He leads her into the lounge, but not before handing her coat to me, mouthing a “thank you.”
Turning away, I put the coat in the closet.
How could he do this to me?
How could he make me watch him with another woman?
Because my feelings don’t count.
As long as I live in his house, I can’t date anyone because I’m his convenient fuck. But not if there’s a better alternative. Everything is starting to make sense.
Teagan isn’t here. Oh God, he’s going to have sex with Maria. She’ll stay over.
I feel sick. This is why I need to go out with Alfred, the cute guy I met in the park. That’s what I need. A guy who is straight up and doesn’t blow hot and cold. And Killian can’t stop me. I have a constitutional right to pursue dick.
I slam the coat hard onto the hook.
I hope it rips.
Again, the bell rings, and I resist the urge to groan loudly.
I open the door to a tall skinny man with a thick mustache. “Good evening, sir. You must be Mayor Williams.”
He flashes me a lecherous smirk. “And who are you, lovely young lady?” he asks, taking my hand and pressing his lips to it.
“Clodagh.” I pull my hand away as soon as I can, my skin crawling.
Ew, as Teagan would say.
“Mayor Williams.” Killian walks up behind me, and the mayor steps into the hall. “Where’s your beautiful wife?”
“She’s feeling poorly, I’m afraid,” he booms. “Her varicose veins are acting up.” When he explains this, the mayor eyes me for some reason, so I make a sympathetic “oh” sound.
“This one’s too young to worry about that.” He takes a moment to admire my legs, free of varicose veins, and licks his lips.
Ew, again.
“And how do you know this lovely one, Killian? I do hope she’ll be dining beside me tonight.”
Killian places a hand on my back again, and I tense up.
I can’t bear the thought of him touching me, knowing he’s going to have sex with another woman when dinner is over.
“Clodagh’s my live-in assistant.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say politely. Please fuck off into the lounge. You’ve already kissed my hand.
The mayor’s face lights up. “Ah, you’re Irish! I can hear it now. Of course, you are, with beautiful red hair like that. I’m Irish too. My great-great-great-grandfather came from Dublin.” For fuck’s sake. One of those dudes who wants to explain his Irish ancestry to me. “Where are you from? Dublin?”
I bristle.
Assuming every Irish person is from Dublin is as insulting as assuming a Canadian person is from the States. “No, up north. Donegal.”
He lets out a bellowing laugh even though I’m not trying to be funny, then turns to Killian. “I did a tour there once. Beautiful scenery but the transport and amenities are terrible. No trains, just old cars for rental, and the roads need some real repair. It’s such a slow way of life,” he drawls, patting Killian on the arm.
I snatch his coat, glaring at him. He’s making us out to be like country bumpkins with no teeth.
“You’re better off staying down the south coast,” he adds helpfully.
“I’m sure Clodagh’s homeland is well worth visiting.” Killian runs a hand over his jawline and actually looks pissed.
I trail them toward the lounge area, steam rising from my head.
Insulting someone to their face is bad but not as bad as insulting someone in front of their face TO SOMEONE ELSE’S FACE. That takes it to a whole other level of assholery.
Except Mayor Moron isn’t finished. He turns to me, licking his lips again, and says something gibberish in appalling Irish. “Did you understand that?”
“No,” I grit out. “I have no idea what that was.” See, this is the type of guy I imagined when Marcus first told me about the job. I have a horrible vision of the mayor wearing a diaper, asking me to sing to him.
Killian’s scowl deepens. “Let’s let Clodagh get back to work.”
Can’t I just hide under all the obnoxious coats?
This is going to be a long fucking night.