Secretive Deal With My Billionaire Boss

Chapter 3

Isla's POV

This ​Morning was exactly like every other Tuesday in the last three years, with the sun bouncing off the steel of the city and the hum of the air conditioning firing up in the still office, but as soon as I entered the tiny kitchenette to make Cillian’s first double espresso, my whole body went on revolt at the smell.

I will say that the dark roast smelled grounding and comforting but it was like a lump in my chest and had spectated me through. I’ll take the ceramic mug off the counter before my legs give way under me in a sudden wave of dizziness.

I leaned on the cold granite and took a few deep breaths, trying to convince myself I was just tired after the 80-hour week we had just finished, but the oncoming nausea was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore with each passing second.

I looked at my watch and saw that I had precisely ten minutes before I would hear Cillian's footsteps come through the front doors as he arrived, expecting his day to be mapped out and his java cup to be steaming atop his mahogany desk, so I made myself bring it home even though I was feeling like my gut was turning in slow, agonizing circles.

I stepped into his private office and sorted the mail by priority, I made sure that his favorite pen was exactly where he liked it and then I ducked into the executive bathroom and my hands were shaking as I locked the door.

I reached into the bottom of my work bag and pulled out the small cardboard box I had bought at a twenty-four-hour pharmacy at three in the morning, and as I sat there waiting for the timer on my phone to go off, I found myself thinking about a gala we had attended last winter.

​ tAll evening a high-profile client had been belittling my role to me, calling me a “pretty little notepad” and implying I was too dumb to comprehend the contract language, and I thought of how Cillian had risen without a word from the table and told the man the end was off. He'd been loyal to me, with a hard, unexpected loyalty that had surprised me, and that was the only memory that was giving me the strength to keep standing in that room right now, because it told me that beneath that glacial exterior, beneath the rumors of him being a cold-blooded shark, maybe he had a duty that would come into play when things got complicated. ​I took the test, and as the timer finally buzzed, I looked down and saw the two clear pink lines glaring up at me, and for a moment the world felt as if it had stopped moving, isolating me with the fact that nothing in my life was ever going to be the same again. I didn’t let myself cry because I had a board meeting to get ready for in under an hour, so I gently folded the test in a paper towel and buried it deep within my purse, then I went back to my desk and sat down like a pro.I opened a new file on my computer and wrote for about half an hour my formal resignation, using simple, unequivocal language, so that he would not be able to read between the lines or argue or try to keep me around.

“Isla, have you gotten confirmation from the London office n the merger projections?” Cillian asked as he finally made his way into the room, his lengthy coat billowing out behind him and his eyes already darting around the papers on my desk without so much as a glance at my face.

“4 A.M., sir, and I have already marked up the discrepancies and placed the hard copy on your desk by your vitamins,” I said, my voice sounding firmer than I was actually feeling as I observed him nod once before he entered his office and began barking commands through his headset.

I was understating when I said that I feel like the manila folder in my top drawer was practically radiating heat.

My resignation and the printed sonogram from the clinic visit I managed to get in during my lunch break the day before, was in that folder, and was telling myself he deserved to know the truth before I slipped out those glass doors for the last time. I knew there was no going back to the way things were once I told him, and I knew I could never be his “fixer” again once I’d taken the secret that would alter our lives forever.

​At 1:00 p.m. the office began to clear as people went to the cafeteria or the food trucks at the corner, and the silence on the executive floor was oppressive and anticipatory as I looked at the door of Cillian’s office, closed.

I spent a couple of minutes fixing my hair, adjusting my blazer in the hall mirror, making sure I looked like the calm, dependable assistant he trusted, and then I opened my desk drawer and took out the manila folder. My hands were wet and as I approached his door, I could hear the muted sound of his voice along with Julian’s laughter from inside that meant they were probably finishing the lunch I had ordered for them.

I stood there with my hand just floating a few inches above the wood, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might be audible through the door, and I took a final deep breath to calm my nerves. I thought I was just being honest and doing the right thing, and I that no matter what happened next, I would at least be taking control of my own future, rather than just navigating his. I shifted my hold on the folder, feeling the sonogram through the paper, and I was just about to tap when I heard my name brought up in a voice that made me stop.