Page 349 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Okay,” Catie said. “Can I pick out a book now?”

“Sure,” I said. I stood up, and nearly bumped into a man about my own age who had come to a halt behind me. He was average looking with brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin. The most notable thing about him was that he was in far too fine a suit for a children’s bookstore. I wobbled a bit, and he instinctively steadied me with a friendly hand.

“Sorry, I…your little girl. It’s amazing. She looks exactly like my sister when she was younger.” He shook himself out of whatever he was feeling and gave me a sheepish smile.

Molly bustled over to restock some books. “Hey, Seamus. I see you’ve met the youngest Byrne.” She smiled at me and Catie. “Catie, dear, it looks like your uncle Declan just parked out front.”

The man—Seamus—stiffened. He glanced at Catie. “I think I might know your mum, dear. How old are you?”

“Six,” Catie said proudly.

“Six,” Seamus repeated faintly. “Wonderful age.”

The shop bell rang, and I looked up to see Declan striding in. His face split in a grin when Catie ran up to him, holding the book she’d picked. Then he looked past me, and his face turned icy.

“Seamus,” he said, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

“Declan,” Seamus responded, his voice only marginally warmer.

Molly winced and found an excuse to duck behind the register and away from the men.

Seamus tried for a smile. “I just met your adorable niece⁠—”

“I’ll thank you to stay away from my family,” Declan interrupted. He tossed some bills on the counter, took Catie’s hand, and abruptly left the shop, slamming the door behind him.

I scurried out of the shop after him, more than a little confused. “Declan, what was that about?”

He waited until Catie was settled in the backseat of his car, then shut the door and turned to face me. His face was so hard, it was almost frightening. “I want you to keep Catie away from Seamus O’Rourke, and his whole fucking family. Understand? They’re bad news, the lot of them.”

I nodded, wondering what the O’Rourkes could possibly have done to earn Declan’s wrath.

As we drove home, I tried not to think about the most recent rule of Declan’s I’d broken—and what kind of wrath he might rain down on me when he found out.

7

DECLAN

Olivia had only been on the job for six days when I got an email from Sunny Days Childcare, saying they had a new nanny available who met all my requirements, and asking if I wanted to interview her. I stood in the kitchen eating a late breakfast over the sink and eyeing my phone, feeling irrationally torn over how to respond.

On the one hand, I could tell that Olivia had been making an effort to follow my rules for Catie. She hadn’t told Catie the truth about Sinead. And she’d found a middle ground between strict discipline and spoiling Catie rotten. If Catie wanted something, Olivia either said yes, or she suggested they get to it later in the week instead, so Catie had something to look forward to. Personally, I thought Catie deserved anything she wanted immediately, with no strings attached, but Catie seemed happy enough with the arrangement, so I’d been willing to live with the balance Olivia had struck, at least until I had a better option.

I’d gotten used to seeing her around in the mornings, still soft from sleep, with all that unruly hair of hers piled on top of her head in a way that exposed her graceful neck. To hearing her voice drift through the halls of my house. To glancing out the window and seeing her and Catie laughing in the backyard.

Sometimes when she smiled at Catie it was hard to look away.

I shoved those thoughts aside. Simply getting used to a woman was no reason to keep her on staff.

You know how much Olivia needs this job, something disturbingly like my conscience whispered.

It’s just business, I told myself, and typed out an email telling them I had time for an interview this afternoon.

The doorbell rang, blasting a terrifyingly chipper ABBA song through the whole house. I winced. I’d made the mistake of mentioning over dinner that my doorbell could be programmed to play any music you could stream online. Now Olivia and Catie kept changing it. Under the guidance of her new nanny, Catie had discovered a love for Swedish disco.

I went to open the door and found my friend Thomas standing on the front step. As always, his lean, sandy hair was a welcome sight. But his face looked grim.

“Are you here as my friend or as my lawyer?” I asked.

“Both,” Thomas said. “It’s about the O’Rourkes.”