Page 21 of Daring Wicked Love (Wicked Dade #2)

When faced with difficult situations, I always found myself turning to what I knew worked.

Running and hiding myself away.

So, calling in sick to work and then turning my phone off was, by far, my best and most effective way to deal with Frederic.

Between his forever changing hot and cold moods, my sister’s deafening silence, and my father’s non-stop badgering, I needed a time out.

I needed what I thought Frederic needed — a break.

Okay, fine. Texting him to say I’d come down with an unexpected stomach bug and then promptly switching my phone off before he got a chance to reply was a tad childish.

But screw him.

The way he snapped at me, the way he reverted straight back into being the Ice Man before my very eyes, he was lucky I didn’t kick him square in the balls.

And trust me, my foot was itching to do it.

My plan was to rot in bed all day, binge-watching television and preparing a couple pieces for the Nirvana Gallery selection, but there was one glaring obvious flaw in my plan.

I practically lived in the same house as Frederic.

Though my employment contract stated that my space was off limits to everyone except me, I couldn’t shrug off the feeling that he wouldn’t give two shits. He’d find a way into my space to once again apologize for his behavior.

A recurring theme that I wasn’t loving.

Not wanting to sit around waiting for him to appear, especially when he discovered my lack of replying was due to me purposely ignoring him, I called a cab and snuck out with my sketchpad before anyone stopped me.

I didn’t really know where to go.

My apartment was off-limits due to my subletters, and apart from Callie, I didn’t have many other close friends.

Going to Callie’s place was an option, but I hated dropping in unannounced, especially given that her fiancé worked from home a majority of the time, and although she denied it, I always felt like he didn’t particularly like me.

I personally think I was too loud for his liking.

That or it was because I kissed his brother at a Christmas party and then ghosted all his calls because the man used way too much teeth and his tongue was like a dead slug.

Oh, and there was also the time I dropped my glass of red wine on his new beige sofa — probably didn’t help much.

Not knowing where else to go, I asked the driver to take me to the only other place that cleared my mind.

Monarch was one of Canada’s most elite social and golf clubs.

It was the sort of place that screamed wealth and attracted those in society who never had to worry about the zeros in their bank accounts.

Considering it came with a hefty monthly membership fee, it was no surprise that only millionaires became members.

However, tucked away behind the vast golf course was a hidden sanctuary that very few people, including its own members, knew about.

A botanical garden sat perched on the edge of the club, hidden away from sight.

Thankfully, for those who knew about its existence, it was the only free thing about Monarch.

The place was nearly always empty, providing me with some peace and quiet to walk through the beautiful gardens and silence my mind for a couple of hours.

By the time I reached the glass greenhouse, the heaviness within my chest was a bit lighter.

It was nice not to think about anything except what was in front of me.

Nestling into a crook of the stickily warm greenhouse, surrounded by blooming flowers and butterflies dancing carefree between the petals, I opened my sketchpad and immediately started tracing the outline of the beauty before me.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, so lost in capturing every little detail and not letting any other thoughts surface, that I didn’t notice I wasn’t alone.

“Thought I’d find you hiding away here.”

I jumped, the pencil in my hand drawing a line straight through an outline of a butterfly.

Callie chuckled lightly. “You scare way too easily.”

“People really need to stop sneaking up on me,” I grumbled. “What are you doing here?”

“Your boss called me,” she said, tucking herself onto the bench beside me. “Said you called out sick and then disappeared. He said he’s been trying to reach you all day, but strangely, your phone isn’t connecting.”

A trickle of guilt slid down my throat.

“Thankfully, I took the phone call, and no one else in the office, otherwise he would have reported you as a missing person to the police by now and sent out a search party.”

“A bit over dramatic, don’t you think?”

Callie’s brow creased. “I’d say he is worried about you, but I feel like worried isn’t a strong enough word.”

“Oh.”

“Seriously, the man was erratic on the phone. In a terrifying yet slightly endearing but still scary sort of way.” Callie’s sculpted brow arched. “Something going on that I should be aware of?”

“I just…” I sighed. “I just needed a break, is all.”

Every moment with Frederic led me to believe that I was starting to see the real him. The man who adored his daughter. The man who clearly had glued his heart back together and built a steel cage around it to protect it from ever getting broken again.

I thought maybe, just maybe, he was letting me see beneath his hardened exterior.

I understood he was my boss, but the lines were blurring with each passing day.

But then, in a blink, he’d switch straight back and shut me out again.

“Talk to me.” Callie placed her hand on mine. “Do you need me to kill someone? My shovel is in the back of my car if you need help burying the body.”

A weak chuckle escaped me.

She squeezed my hand. “Whatever is going on with you, let me help.”

Teeth skimmed along my bottom lip, the words wanting to spill out and lessen the burden from my shoulders, but there was so much about my past that Callie didn’t know.

She was aware of Niamh and our frosty relationship, as well as the fact that we had grown up in foster homes, but she didn’t know the real reason behind it.

I never told her about my father.

Hell, no one in my life knew about my fucked up past except Niamh.

When I uprooted my life in Ireland as soon as I saved up enough money, it was because I wanted a fresh start. No more being Orla McShay, I longed to be free from the shackles of my childhood.

Talking about my father to anyone was like breathing life into a corpse that needed to stay dead.

“I told my sister after one last payment, I wasn’t going to give her any more money,” I finally said. “Told her that from here on out I wanted to be her big sister, not her personal checking account.”

“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but I promise you that you did the right thing.”

Chewing the corner of my lip, I nodded. “She isn’t talking to me now, which, although it’s not at all surprising, still hurts.” I blinked back the sting in my eyes. “And then with Frederic… He, oh hell, I don’t know what to do.”

“Was he an asshole again?”

I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. “It’s partly my fault. I thought we were friends.” Maybe something more. “There was a moment, an almost kiss…”

My friend didn’t react or say a single word.

“Fucking hell, I am such a fool, aren’t I? I let my stupid schoolgirl crush blur the lines of our professional relationship.”

“To be honest, Orla, I don’t think it’s you who blurred the lines. From the phone call with him today, I can tell you straight that he wasn’t acting like your boss.”

Despite everything, my heart fluttered — because it clearly was the biggest fool of them all.

“Look, I read over your contract again, and I might have found you a way out,” Callie explained. “A way that could allow you to walk away from all this.”

“How?”

“After the last time when he was a dick to you and then showed up at the bar, I mean I know I was wasted but I saw how he looked at you and trust me it was the furthest thing from professional,” she said bluntly.

“Your contract states you must have a safe and appropriate work environment. If he isn’t providing you with that and is acting inappropriately with his employee… ”

“Wait,” I cut her off. “If anything, we have both acted inappropriately.”

Although it was him who initiated the game of truth or dare, it was me who dared him to strip us both.

I could have refused to let him try and kiss me.

We were both at fault for crossing the lines.

“I’m not quitting,” I said matter-of-factly. “Penelope is my responsibility. The fact that I let him, and a silly crush cloud my judgment, is on me.”

“All I am saying is think about it.” She offered a small smile. “After all, you don’t need the money for your sister anymore.”

That was true.

The realization hit me hard that I had finally cut the financial cord between me and Niamh, and any money I made was now my own.

I was free.

“Come stay with me tonight,” Callie said. “That way, you can sleep on it and make a decision in the morning. Plus, Rob is away working in Ohio for the week so we can get shitfaced on box wine and watch Greys Anatomy. ”

“Can we order in sushi?”

“Duh, of course, what else would we eat?”

I wrapped my arms tightly around her and buried my face into her mane of thick hair. “Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“It’s what I’m here for. Through thick and thin, you’re stuck with me.”

I wasn’t going to quit, not while Penelope needed — wanted me.

But a night away would help me refocus and tuck whatever brewing feelings I had for Frederic back into a tightly closed box.

Walking through the front door was like jumping headfirst off a cliff.

After spending the night with Callie, I braved turning my phone back on and was bombarded with missed calls and text messages.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Can we talk about yesterday?

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Can I come up and talk to you?

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Do you need anything from the pharmacy?

[ FREDERIC DADE] : Why is your phone going to voicemail?

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Really? Ignoring me now? Real mature, Orla.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Fine I am coming to speak to you whether you like it or not.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Where are you???

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Orla, this isn’t funny, let me know that you’re okay.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Orla.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Answer me.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Look I am sorry.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: I’m sorry for being a dick again.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Can you at least let me know you’re safe.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Please.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Let me make this right. I know I fucked up.

[ FREDERIC DADE ]: Please come back…

My heart wedged itself permanently into my throat as I read over every message.

“You’re back!” Penelope exclaimed as I walked into the kitchen. “You’re just in time.”

Dropping to my knees, I opened my arms and let her jump straight into them. She buried her face into the crook of my neck as I held onto her tightly.

“Are you feeling better?”

I nodded, planting a kiss on the side of her head. “Much better, thank you.”

It was impossible not to feel his presence in the room. Like an impending tornado, I was unable to stop my eyes seeking him out.

He stood with his back to the kitchen counter, yet nothing about him was relaxed. His arms folded across his chest so tightly that the muscles in his arms strained against his long-sleeved T-shirt.

The corners of his eyes twitched in time with his jaw as he met my gaze.

“Guess what?” Penelope broke away with a grin. “We are going to the South of France.”

Slowly, I turned back to her. “Gee, that sounds amazing.”

She bounced on her heels. “We’re going for a whole week! Daddy says that we can go swimming in the ocean and build sandcastles on the beach.” Penelope turned to Fred. “Can I bring my paint set with me for the plane?”

She was off like a bullet when he dipped his chin, leaving the two of us alone.

Tension filled the air, stealing all the breath in my lungs.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

“I took the night off,” I said, calmer than I felt.

Teeth crunching together filled the thickening silence.

“You can’t disappear like that,” Fred said sharply. “It’s not fair on…Penelope. What if she needed you? Your contract states you are to be available twenty-four hours a day.”

“This isn’t really the time to do this.”

“Where were you anyway? Who did you stay…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing under his breath. “Turning your phone off was immature.”

“I’m too tired to argue with you, Frederic.” I ignored the flicker of pain in his eyes. “I hope you both have a lovely holiday.”

He pushed himself away from the kitchen counter. “You’re coming with us.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Trust me, neither do I,” he said bluntly. “But Penelope wants you there, and there are a few meetings I have to virtually attend during the trip, so unfortunately, you’re coming with us. Be ready in an hour.”

Shiiiiiiit.

It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.

One week in the South of France with just the three of us wasn’t going to deter the newly improved, focused me.

All I had to do was focus on Penelope and making sure she had the best holiday ever. Simple.