Page 25 of Broken Blood Ties

I glance back at the clock on the wall and note it’s almost 4:00 p.m. Taking out my phone, I type out another quick message to the front office asking if they were able to get ahold of Aoife’s nanny or Kieran. I receive anot yetmessage back and tuck my phone away into my high-waisted dress pants. Then because it’s past four and I’m usually halfway home to sweatpants and a crop top by now, I untuck my light pink blouse before pulling out the stool next to Aoife and pick out a coloring page of the mermaid’s fishy companion.

Ten minutes later my fish is colored a deep green, and when I lift to show it to Aoife she giggles. “He can’t be green. He’s yellow.”

It’s so infectious I crack up, too.

A throat clears startling me, and I jolt up to see Kieran leaning casually in the doorway. I focus on his dark blue jeans that are wet from the bottom hem up to about his calf, and then move up to where his cream-colored Henley is open, two buttons exposing a trace amount of chest hair.

My mouth goes dry. When I finally meet his eyes, he smirks, and I glare at him before he pivots to Aoife, expression softening.

“Daddy!” Aoife notices her father, and she jumps up, knocking several crayons off the table to run to him.

I stand, tidying up the coloring mess we’ve made and take a bit longer to clean up each individual crayon. Unfortunately, I betray myself and glance over to see Kieran kneeled down at Aoife’s level, embracing her in a giant hug.

“I’m so sorry, Aoife. Allie had a family emergency, and I was stuck at work longer than I meant to be.” She nods into his shoulder while his eyes move to meet mine. I raise my eyebrows at him.

Stuck at work? He’s an hour late. Not ten minutes. Not thirty. A whole hour late with a little girl worried about her dad. I harrumph under my breath. He didn’t even call.

Kieran’s soft expression hardens as he raises his chin at me. Standing, he helps Aoife into her cardigan and coat, handing her the colorful mermaid backpack she carts around.

His glower stays pinned on me. “Aoife, would ye mind waiting outside in the hall. I need to speak with ye teacher.”

I blink. I’m not intimidated by powerful men. There was nothing but a sea of them around me growing up. I actually made it an art form to manipulate these men. It’s easy until it’s not.

However, Kieran’s scowl has me fiddling with my hands and cracking my knuckles—a habit I’d broken two years ago. Jeez. Guess I’m going to need another thirty days to re-break it.

As Aoife steps through the door, I walk backward toward the windows in the classroom that overlook the courtyard. I need to close the blinds to go home, but I’m having trouble with the idea of turning my back to him.

“Thanks for staying with her.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. She’s so sweet … it really was no problem at all.”

He steps forward, gaze lingering on my middle where I’m pretty sure my blouse has wrinkled beyond what’s acceptable for someone of his status.

Looking toward the door, I flinch as I remember Aoife’s frozen worry when she wasn’t picked up, and against my better judgment, I open my mouth again.

“I know how important work is for you, but Aoife seems like she may need a bit more from you.”

I watch the muscles in his neck strain and his jaw clench.

Oh, no … I’ve crossed the line.

“What makes ye think ye know me?”

I step forward, hands on my hips. “I know powerful people like you.”

“Ye have no idea what I deal with. Or who I am.”

The pressure to take back my earlier comment gnaws at me, instead I’m dumb and double down.

“Listen it’s none of my business why you’re late, Mr. O’Donnell.” Using his last name earns me another nostril flare. “But?—”

“Ye’re damn right it’s none of yer business.”

I glare at him, having lost my train of thought. “Well,ye’reinfuriating.” I mimic his accent and immediately slap my hand over my mouth. What the actual hell is wrong with me? I’m going to lose my job over this.

When I pull my hand from my agape mouth, the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Oh, shit—I mean … jeez. Oh jeez. I’m sorry, Mr. O’Donnell. That was … unprofessional.”

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