Page 73 of Finn

“Yes, Mr. O’Reilly,” Philip answered, ever the professional.

“Ms. Murphy will not be returning this week,” I informed him. “I need you to replace her.”

“Of course.” He paused. “Friday night?” he asked, letting the words hang between us.

“I think she’ll perform.”

“Very good.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe some tea to be delivered to the office?”

“Good idea. Thank you.”

“Of course, sir. Right away.”

I hung up, grateful he was in charge. Tea would be good for Una.

I pressed a kiss to her head, crooning her name. “It’s all right, Una. I have you.”

She kept crying, and I kissed her again. “Please, mo chroí, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s happened.”

She shuddered, dragging in a deep breath. “That’s it,” I encouraged. “Another one, Una. Take another breath.”

She did, the sound almost painful, and she let her head fall back. She was beyond pale, her freckles standing out on her skin. Dark circles were under her eyes, and when they fluttered open, they were red-rimmed and distressed. I traced a finger down her damp cheek.

“Hush now,” I murmured. “I’m here, and everything is going to be okay.”

A discreet knock on the door startled her, and I shook my head. “Tea. Go wash your face, and I’ll get it.”

She slipped from my lap, and I waited until she had gone into the washroom to open my office door. I took the tray, not surprised to see a plate of small sandwiches and treats on it. I offered a silent thanks to Philip, mentally reminding myself to send him and his wife on a weekend away. I’d arrange something with Roman, who had commented more than once on Philip’s capabilities.

I poured tea, adding some honey the way Una liked, and she returned. Calmer, but still obviously distressed. I patted the cushion beside me, and when she sat down, I handed her the cup, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’m here,” I repeated.

She nodded, sipping her tea, a slight tremble to her hand.

I spoke, telling her what had happened since I had left her at her apartment. “I wasn’t ignoring you, Una, or still angry. I was desperately trying to figure out what was happening. To help the people who needed me. Do you understand that?” I asked gently, somehow worried about pushing her over an edge I couldn’t comprehend.

“Yes,” she replied.

I took her cup, filling it again. She accepted it, and I was pleased to see the tremble had lessened. I inhaled. “I saw Brian at the warehouse.”

“I know.”

I frowned. “How?”

“He came to see me.”

“And, of course, gave you his version of the story.”

“He said you roughed him up and talked down to him.”

“He’s lucky I let him go.”

“You did that for me,” she whispered.

“Yes,” I stated honestly.

“I won’t ask that of you again.”

Something in her voice, the way she tensed, gave me pause.