My knees buckle inward ever so slightly, and my spine shivers. So this is what a physical swoon is.
Pull yourself together, woman.
“Hi, Killian,” I say brightly.
He doesn’t turn his head to look at me. Maybe it’s a requirement of the job to be aloof and distant in the office. It would fit with all the movies I’ve seen.
I didn’t even think “film.” I’m so American.
Without glancing in my direction, he orders me to take a seat.
Since he’s not even looking at me, I assume it’s the seat on the other side of his desk.
I take a seat, crossing my legs, and Killian finally turns to meet my gaze. His expression is entirely blank.
I shift in my seat, feeling a tad uneasy. What’s wrong with him? I thought he was quiet this morning, and last night, he told me he wanted me to get a good night’s sleep, so he didn’t come to my studio.
I know this is his office, but no one is here, and he is the boss, after all, so I’m surprised I didn’t get a kiss. Or ideally more, because he looks so handsome in the dark-blue suit.
He takes a seat behind his large desk. Maybe he’s really strict on upholding his own company policy? His eyes wander to the bunny on my T-shirt, then return to meet mine.
“What’s up?” I ask, a bit of fear creeping into my voice as my female intuition sounds off.
“How’s your wrist?”
“It’s fine,” I reply, not for the first time. I suppress the impulse to roll my eyes because he’s being sweet. He asked me if I wanted to go to therapy yesterday to get over what happened with Alfred. He’s being a tad dramatic.
“Look.” He tents his hands together on the table. “This may seem callous to do here, and for that, I apologize. I’m not trying to hurt you. I thought it better to do this away from the house.”
“Do what?” I ask in a strangled voice.
He pauses. “Clodagh, you knew this wasn’t going to be a long-term arrangement. You understand that, don’t you?”
I blink at him, confused. “Are we talking about us… or my job?”
He doesn’t answer. A brief flicker of emotion passes across his face before settling into a stern mask.
I feel a pit form in my stomach. I don’t speak. I wait for the bombshell to drop: job or us?
“With everything that’s happened, it would be best if your time with Teagan and I ends ahead of schedule.”
I may as well have inhaled knives; his words are so painful. I stare at him, aghast. “Y-You mean you’re firing me?” I stammer out.
He frowns. “I don’t want you to see it like that. You’ll still be paid up to the last day of your contract. The circumstances have changed, and it’s not a good fit anymore.”
“Not a good fit…” I repeat, my head spinning.
I don’t understand. He wants to get rid of me?
Why is he talking like this? Why is he being so cryptic?
I sit very still and try not to cry. Because what did I expect? This was inevitable. This is stupid, why am I reacting like this? I’m not on my period. It’s just a job. It was going to come to an end in a few weeks.
“Clodagh, I care about you. I want to make sure everything is smooth for you. I have some apartments in Manhattan and Brooklyn ready for you and Orla to pick from today. Rent will be covered, of course, and you’ll have a green card guaranteed.”
I tuck my foot underneath me and grip my knee as I try to read his expression. He’s distant and closed off.
So he wants me to live in an apartment, paid for by him, but not work for him? I feel like a hooker.
Is this because he wants us to make a proper go of our relationship, and he doesn’t think it will work if I’m working for him?
“I thought we were doing okay living together and seeing each other,” I murmur, attempting a smile. “I didn’t think it caused problems.”
“It does for me.” His eyes hold mine. “We made a mistake. I made a mistake. This is all on me. I should never have put you in a compromising position.”
“I’m not in a compromising position,” I argue back. Why is he saying all this stuff? “It’s fine.”
He looks away from me and down at his hands. “You won’t need to worry. You’ll have an apartment, visa, eventually a green card, and the same allowance as you have here for as long as you need.” He smiles sadly. “You’ll have time to pursue your carpentry career again.”
My eyes widen. I want to get up and shake him by the shoulders. “I’m not after a sugar daddy, Killian. Do you not get how this sounds? Bloody icky.”
He stares at me with the same coldness he had when we first met. “It won’t be like that. You and I won’t see each other anymore.”
My breath stalls in my lungs as the reality of his words hits me. “Are you breaking up with me or firing me?”
He shifts uneasily in his seat, and I have my answer.
Stinging tears prick my eyes. “Oh my God. Both.”
I’m such a fool. He doesn’t know the stupid fantasies going on in my head. How foolish of me to think that we had some kind of future together, that he was mine, that we could be something more.
For weeks, I’ve been living in this stupid rosy bubble as I bounce around New York, fulfilling my bucket list and spinning dreams of a future shared with Killian.
“Is this about Alfred?” I ask, my voice barely staying level. “I stopped messaging him as soon as we became exclusive. I-”
“No,” he cuts in sharply.
I search his eyes, looking for the truth. None of this makes sense. This past week, he was opening up to me. I know I saw emotion in his eyes.
“It’s about him confronting me, right? You’re spooked because you think you put me in danger. I don’t care, Killian. I’m fine. I-”
“It’s not that, Clodagh.”
His gaze is so icy that I believe him. I saw what my heart wanted to see because I was falling in love with him. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“So it really was temporary.” I laugh bitterly. “The sex was just a side perk of the job.”
“I never promised you a future.”
I stare at him, waiting for some type, any type, of emotion. Begging for a sign to show he’s affected by what he’s doing. How can he sit here watching me, so stoic and detached, as my heart shatters?
His jaw tightens; it’s the only sign of emotion visible on his cold face. “A replacement starts in three days.”