Niamh had no idea what Jonathan was up to.
She figured he was at FY for business today–or maybe to drop off that bouquet of pink roses for Marina and squeeze in a meeting on the side. Either
way, there was no reason he needed to show up in front of her.
After what happened at the hotel last time, being alone with Jonathan in a closed room made Niamh uneasy. In truth, she was both nervous and a little afraid. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, nails digging into her palms, eyes fixed anywhere but on Jonathan.
The air in the conference room felt strangely cold. Niamh couldn’t tell if it was the air conditioning blasting or just Jonathan’s presence chilling the space.
Jonathan stood blocking the door, silent and unmoving, leaving Niamh completely at a loss, her nerves fraying.
“I’ve heard all about it…” Jonathan finally broke the silence.
Niamh looked up at him, confused.
“Heard about what?”
“You’re the only designer in your whole department who hasn’t had a single design approved. Niamh, doesn’t that embarrass you?”
She’d thought he had something important to say–she hadn’t expected this.
“In design, it’s normal to have your work rejected. If you can’t handle a little criticism, maybe you’re in the wrong field,” she replied, trying to sound steady.
Jonathan actually laughed at that. “Is that what you call comforting yourself? Face it, you’re just not cut out for this. Instead of pretending otherwise, maybe it’s time to admit you have no talent.”
His words burned. Did he seriously have nothing better to do than come here just to criticize her?
The tension between them was palpable, almost electric.
Suddenly, Jonathan grabbed her arm.
“Niamh, come home,” he said.
She froze.
1/2
Chapter 44
“If you have any sense of shame left, you’ll quit this job and come home where you belong.”
Niamh yanked her arm free. Jonathan’s face darkened.
“How long are you planning to keep this up? You know I’m running out of patience.”
Of course, she knew. Jonathan had never had much patience for her–he’d reserved all of it for Marina.
“I’m not going back to being a housewife,” she said quietly.
“That’s the only thing you’re good at,” he shot back.
Niamh opened her mouth, but for a moment, no words came.
Just then, someone pushed open the conference room door.
“What are you two doing in here?” Peter walked in.
Jonathan shot him a cold look. “Do you make a habit of eavesdropping, Mr. Peter?” Peter just shrugged with a smile. “Mr. Thomas, this is my company.”
“So I need your permission to talk to my own wife? Is she your employee or your property?”
Peter scratched his head, but his response was biting. “This is a workplace. She’s not anyone’s property, but she’s expected to follow our policies and code of conduct. If you want to talk about personal matters, maybe you should do that at home. Or is it that, since she’s divorcing you, you can’t even find her there anymore?”
Jonathan caught the jab, his glare falling on Niamh as if blaming her for airing their dirty laundry in front of a stranger.
The room felt suffocating, like all the oxygen had been sucked out. Niamh could barely breathe.
“You’re all here!” Another voice called out as the door opened again. Karin, the head of FY’s Design Division, walked in–famous for every one of FY’s renowned jewelry lines except the “Piano” series.
She spotted Jonathan and turned to Peter, puzzled. “Is Mr. Thomas joining us as well?”
Jonathan had no clue what this meeting was about, but his instincts told him it had something to do with Niamh. Without a second thought, he replied, “I’ll join.”
