Sinead, Unhappy

Sinead was pissed off. With herself, and with him. And it switched back and forth who she was the most angry with.

She couldn’t believe she’d allowed him to do those things to her. To spank her with a fucking paddle like she was a bad kid in the 1950s? Everything before that night had been… it hadn’t been that. She wasn’t a fucking child that he got to punish. He wasn’t an authority over her with that right. They weren’t anything to each other, he wasn’t even her boyfriend. They just… traded things. And he’d taken more than she’d agreed to.

Fuck, she couldn’t even believe she’d let him call her a ‘brat.’ She was an adult woman and a successful police detective.

And then she… threw herself at him. Verbally.

How could I think about going back to him at all? Sinead thought to herself. It had been a moment of weakness that had gotten way too familiar in the past few weeks, and she’d finally given in.

She knew sex with Marc would probably be really good. Maybe even the best she’d ever get. But he or that wasn’t worth debasing herself. She could go to any bar in the city and walk out with someone who could give her good sex if she really wanted it that badly.

Sinead grit her teeth, sitting in her car as she tapped her foot on the break. Glancing at the passenger seat, she felt her jaw flexing as she looked over the stack of files there - she’d parsed out as much of the files as she could from Marc’s USB drive, but a lot of it was still another language to her. She needed Marc to help her sort through all of it, but she was done giving in to his bullshit. She needed to turn the tables on him - he had what she needed, but that didn’t mean he had all the power.

Getting out of her car, Sinead slammed the door shut and locked it as she headed into the office building. She flashed her badge to the security guy at the front, who seemed to recognize her and nodded, and she went to the elevator bank. As she got into one she was again struck by the muted opulence of the lobby and elevator. She felt like she was stepping onto the set of Suits - though that building was down the street, having mostly filmed in Toronto. She’d worked extra duty security for a couple of their outdoor night shoots earlier in her career.

Unlike the last time Sinead had stormed Marc’s office, and not wanting to hand him more leverage to feel superior or more well-mannered or whatever, this time Sinead didn’t blast past the secretary who was positioned at a long desk in front of the elevator bank. Instead, she approached the desk, and she had the feeling that the secretary recognised her.

“Hi,” she said and flashed her badge again. “I need to see Marc Fornier.”

“Mister Fornier is currently in a meeting,” the secretary said with a polite smile. “I’ll let him know that you’re here if you’d like to wait, or I can pass along a message if you can’t.”

“I’ll wait,” Sinead said.

“Can I get you a refreshment?” the woman asked. The longer Sinead talked with her, the more she realised how ridiculously attractive the woman was - sharp features, perfect hair, just the right amount of cleavage to tempt someone to look. She was wearing a sleek dress that highlighted her slender form - she could have been a model. Hell, she could have been an underwear model, with that face and body.

“I’m fine,” Sinead said, then a beat after realised she was gripping the edge of the desk a little tightly. “Thanks.”

The secretary smiled and nodded gently, a clear dismissal in the direction of the padded chairs that formed a small waiting area. Sinead turned to go but hesitated and turned back. “What’s your name?” she asked the secretary.

“Jillian,” the secretary said.

“Oh, alright,” Sinead said. “Does anyone named Felicity work here?”

“No one by that name works at the company,” she replied, cocking her head slightly.

“Do you know who Felicity is to Marc?”

“Miss Connors, I think you just wait and if you have questions for Mister Fornier you can ask him yourself,” Jillian said.

Sinead nodded, accepting the mild rebuke and knowing she’d been pushing it, and went to take a seat. It wasn’t until she’d been waiting for almost five minutes that she realised she’d never told the secretary her name, let alone her last name. A long glance over at the woman didn’t get her any more information, though. With a sigh, she took out her phone and began thumbing through the digital copies of the Barisha documents she had there.

“So, when am I going to get you to agree to a date, sweetcheeks?” a male voice said about ten minutes later. The casual misogyny dripping from the words and tone immediately felt out of place from the rest of the office - every time she’d been in Marc’s building, everyone that worked there had been buttoned up tight like they worked for the fucking church or something.

More concerning, however, was that the voice was familiar to Sinead and she glanced up with her eyes wide before quickly looking down and raising her phone up to try and block her face.

“I appreciate the offer, Mr Barisha, but as I said before, I’m in a relationship,” Jillian said from behind her desk.

“Oh, what’s a boyfriend worth, really?” Victor said, leaning his elbows on her desk and leaning over it, pushing into her space. “That’s just a guy trying to play defence. And defensemen don’t score goals, do they?”

“Bourque, 410. Coffey, 396. MacInnis, 340,” Jillian said.

“What?”

“Those are the three highest-scoring defensemen from the NHL,” Jillian said. “Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr Barisha?”

“One date,” Barisha pushed. “I swear it would be the night of your life.”

“Can I validate your parking, Mr Barisha?” Jillian deflected with that same polite smile she’d used on Sinead.

Victor did, in fact, get his parking validated and thankfully didn’t glance over at Sinead before he entered the elevators and left. She felt like she was sweating bullets under her suit jacket and let out a relieved breath that she wasn’t spotted or recognized.

“Miss Connors,” Jillian said, calling her attention. “Mister Fornier will see you now.”

Right. She was here to yell at Marc.

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