Page 4 of The Dragon in the Corner Office (Monstrous New York #1)
Chapter 4
“ C an you believe that man?” My voice reaches a shrill octave as Pen and I walk down the sidewalk, a cloud of smoke trailing after us.
A soft hand on my arm stops me in my tracks. Pen tugs me into our favorite diner, Cream Me Up, practically shoving my butt into a chair before plopping down across from me. “Two everythings with cream cheese, Phil. It’s been a rough morning.”
“Comin’ right up, dollface,” the shop owner calls with a wave of his green hand. Phil is a good guy, New Yorker through and through with his thick East Coast accent.
He’ s also an orc, which makes me feel slightly less judged for stumbling into his shop, with a plume of smoke swirling around my head. Every monster has their quirks. Mine just so happens to be a very visible indicator of my emotions.
Cream Me Up has become an unofficial safe haven for any and all monsters. Two wolven sit in the corner, sipping coffee, while a pixie flits around, delivering orders to the other patrons.
Pen draws my focus back to her with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “Annie, you cannot let him get to you, or you won’t survive the rest of the week. Don’t stoop to his level.”
“I’m trying,” I say between gritted teeth as Phil places an everything bagel in front of me. Both halves are smeared with a giant glob of cream cheese. The full-fat kind, none of that low-fat shit around here. We eat our calories and enjoy every single one of them. A mug of black coffee joins the plate as he flashes me a wink. “Thank you, Phil.”
“You got it, Annie.” His hulking green form retreats behind the counter and into the kitchen.
“Although… it was pretty hot how he caged you into your chair earlier.” She fans herself while trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “I could have cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a butter knife. ”
“Penelope Martin! We hate him. Did you forget?” Chucking a balled-up napkin at her, I level her with my best glare.
Raising her hands in surrender, she responds, “I’m just saying, what if all this animosity between the two of you could be relieved with a little overtime? If ya catch my drift.” The dimple on her cheek pops into place as she smirks and waggles her delicate blonde eyebrows.
Cyrus’s intense blue gaze flashes in my mind, and for a millisecond, I contemplate how explosive the sex between us could be. There’s nothing like a good round of hate sex after some verbal sparring.
But, no! He knocked me down once and almost cost me my spot on top. No matter how scorching hot the sex would be, I can’t forgive his indiscretions. “Out of the question, Pen. The man is an ass. For now, let’s focus on getting this warehouse sale and impressing the board. Hopefully, they’ll come to their senses and realize who the better broker is.” I point a finger at myself and take a much-needed bite of my bagel.
“I thought Andrews said this wasn’t a competition?”
I can’t hold back the huffed laugh. “Everything is a competition when it comes to Cyrus. That’s just how we work.”
“Whatever you say, Annie.”
Around a mouth of doughy goodness, I mumble, “Let’s enjoy our breakfast without giving Cyrus Wilcox another ounce of our thoughts. Then we’ll catch the train to the outskirts of the city. Mr. O’Malley is expecting us at eight.”
“ T his is the place?” Eyebrows scrunched together, Pen swings the upside-down nine in the building number back into place before pulling her finger away to glare at the black smudge left behind.
Checking my email, in the attached pictures, the place doesn’t look quite as… dilapidated. Swinging my gaze between my phone screen and the dirt-crusted address marker, it matches. “Appears so.”
“Aye, Miss Bauer. Is that you, lass?” The door creaks open to reveal a hunched older gentleman with a shock of white hair and thick caterpillar eyebrows. They’re so thick, in fact, his crinkled eyes are barely visible.
Extending my hand, I grip his firmly in a shake. Something I learned early on in the male-dominated corporate world was to have a strong handshake. It’s gotten me far in my career and earned me the respect of many colleagues and clients. “Mr. O’Malley. I’m Antoinette Bauer. It’s a pleasure to meet you. This is my assistant, Penelope Martin. Thank you for meeting us this morning. Would you care to give us a tour and tell us about the place? ”
He nods as we follow him inside, the double doors swinging shut and blocking out the morning sun.
Once my eyes adjust to the change in light, I spin in a slow circle as Mr. O’Malley explains the history of the building. Light streams through the upper windows and a few holes in the ceiling, illuminating the empty space.
It’s wide open, and the perfect blank canvas for my vision. Sure, it needs some TLC, but the bones are here and the location is prime: close enough to the city to commute on a daily basis, but far enough into the suburbs to avoid the city noise.
The ideal bridge between suburban and urban.
I just have to convince my boss that expanding outside the heart of the city is worth his investment. Money talks, more than anything else, in his world.
“I bought this building when I was a young lad and first moved to America in the seventies. Brought the family business with me and opened ’er as a meat processin’ plant. Unfortunately, I fell on hard times and the place shut down about twenty years ago. Building’s paid off, but I donna have the money or time to start ’er up again.” The subtle Irish brogue of his voice echoes around the vast warehouse.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, locking eyes with Pen. This is the project I’ve been waiting for. A chance to impress the board and show them what women are really capable of. She nods, following behind Mr. O’Malley as he leads us deeper into the warehouse. “Give me a few days to draw up the offer, and I’d be happy to take it off your hands.”
A shrill whistle has me stopping mid-step and spinning toward the door. “What a dump. This is your hole in one, princess?” Cyrus strolls toward us, hands tucked in the pockets of his navy slacks, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Princess . That name again. A fire churns in my belly, incinerating the butterflies of excitement instantly.
Turning back to Mr. O’Malley, I plaster on a pleasant smile. “I’m extremely sorry about my colleague. He’s still in training and learning client-facing etiquette. I hope you won’t hold his behavior against me.” Making a beeline over to Cyrus, I drag him away from Pen and my client by the sleeve of his jacket, while shouting over my shoulder. “Pen, could you go over the numbers with Mr. O’Malley? I’ll be back in just one minute.”
Once we’re outside, I release his sleeve and pace the sidewalk, trying not to let my dragon explode from my body. This suit was expensive, and I rather like it. Brushing my hands down the black peplum blazer and matching black skirt, I count my breaths.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five .
The red haze in my vision settles back to normal as I blink the nictitating membrane covering my eyes a few times. Sufficiently calmed, I slice my penetrating gaze toward Cyrus, who leans casually against the side of the building, arms crossed over his broad chest. “What the actual fuck was that about?” I point toward the warehouse door. “How dare you come into my meeting and undermine me in front of a potential client. This is low even for you, Cyrus.”
“Princess, I’m simply here to offer my services. I only want to help.” He spreads his arms wide, stepping in front of me.
“I highly doubt that. And stop calling me princess. It’s demeaning, but I think you know that.”
His responding chuckle has an involuntary shiver rippling down my spine. The sound is smooth and rich, and for some reason, I like it.
No! I hate him.
“If I wanted your help, I would have asked. So, butt out!” My shoulder bumps his hard chest as I march past him. Hand poised to grasp the door handle, my motion is halted by his warm hand on my forearm.