Usher started to intervene, but Jareth held up a hand, silently dismissing him. Then, Jareth wheeled himself just inside the doorway and watched her, his presence unnoticed.
For some reason, the sight of Niamh carefully wiping the leaves reminded him of his mother. When she was alive, she used to do the same thing, her movements just as gentle and meticulous.
With her back to the door, Niamh had no idea she was being watched. She muttered to herself as she worked.
“If you don’t know how to take care of a plant, why even have one?”
“If you’d given it to me, I’d have it looking lush and green in no time.”
“And he has the nerve to call me an idiot.”
“The real idiot is the one who can’t even keep a plant alive.”
Outside, Usher felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. Everyone knew that no one was allowed to touch anything on the CEO’s desk. Earlier this year, a cleaner had been fired on the spot just for changing the water in that vase.
“You’re on your own, Niamh,” he thought grimly.
“Ahem.”
Jareth cleared his throat, then rolled his wheelchair into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Usher, who had been about to peek inside, nearly broke his nose on the door.
The sound made Niamh jump. She spun around to see Jareth, his expression thunderous, and her heart leaped into her throat.
He wheeled himself closer, his voice dangerously low. “Niamh, since you’re such an expert, this plant is now your responsibility. How does that sound?”
Niamh wanted to slap herself. Why did she have to talk to herself? Now he’d heard everything.
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