Page 56 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

“How long have you worked here?” I asked.

A few seconds passed. “Long enough.”

I almost smiled. Of course. That was the kind of answer that gave nothing away while pretending it had.

“You must know everyone, then.”

Her cloth moved across the wood. Back and forth. Back and forth. “No.”

The answer surprised me enough that I laughed softly. “No?”

She shook her head. “People only think they know each other.”

I leaned lightly against the doorframe. “You sound cynical.” This time I caught it—a tiny twitch near her mouth, gone before I could decide if it was amusement.

“I clean penthouses,” she said. “Not people.”

The laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

Teresa glanced up. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t entirely unhappy, either. Good. I pushed my luck a little.

“Sean seems to trust you.”

The cloth stopped moving. Only for a second. Then it continued.

“I work here.” It was the answer of someone who’d spent years avoiding conversations she didn’t want to have.

“Fair enough.”

The room fell quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Teresa moved to the bookshelf. I watched her work, but not because I cared about dusting.

Because people revealed themselves when they thought nothing important was happening—the way they paused, the things they ignored, the questions they answered too quickly.

Teresa finished one shelf and moved to the next. “You ask a lot of questions.”

There it was.

I kept my expression innocent. “I’m curious.”

“So are cats.”

I laughed again, a real laugh this time.

Teresa shook her head and returned to her work. The conversation was over.

And for today, that was fine. I pushed away from the doorframe. “See you around, Teresa.”

She didn’t look up.

I started walking away.

Then her voice reached me just before I turned the corner. “Maeve.”

I looked back. She was still dusting the shelf, still not looking at me. “People usually find what they’re looking for.” A beat. The cloth moved steadily. “Whether they like what they find or not.”

I stood there for a second, then kept walking.

. I waited for her to leave the office, then started following her from a distance that seemed casual. I adjusted my pace slowly, with the kind of timing that felt like coincidence.