Page 6 of The Dragon in the Corner Office (Monstrous New York #1)
Chapter 6
F ortunately, the rest of the week passes relatively smoothly between me and Antoinette. We only had a minor incident when I didn’t replace the paper in the shared printer in our office.
The casualty was the poor potted plant on the corner of Antoinette’s desk.
She burned it to a crisp in her hissy fit. Overreact much?
Because I’m a nice guy, I plan to buy a replacement before Monday.
It’s Sunday and the truck windows are rolled down as I cruise along the country road to my sister-in-law’ s house. A light breeze ruffles the strands of my hair, and the clean air has all the animosity from the past week melting from my body.
Maggie and Lily live about an hour north of New York City in an old farmhouse. Roman, my brother, had grand plans to fix it up, but he never got that far.
Since his death, those plans have fallen on my shoulders, since I know Mags doesn’t have the heart to sell the property. In all honesty, I don’t mind coming here every weekend and doing a little manual labor. It’s good for my body and gives me a chance to spend time with my niece.
Pulling off the paved road, gravel crunches under my tires, and the truck bounces on the uneven dirt of the long driveway leading to their house. The box in the passenger seat rattles and shifts with each bump in the road. The obnoxious rainbow foil wrapping paper sends a treasure trove of colors flashing around the truck’s cab.
Lily is in a hardcore rainbow phase, so when I saw the wrapping paper at the store, I knew it was perfect for her.
Apple trees line the road as I approach their house, a worn wooden fence separating the property from the gravel road.
Finally, the white two-story farmhouse comes into view, black shutters on every window and a wooden porch wrapping around the whole thing. I spent most weekends last summer fixing all the holes in the deck and adding a fresh coat of stain. Combined with the outdoor furniture and the plants Maggie added, the place is warm and welcoming.
As my truck rolls to a stop, the cherry red front door bangs open, a little girl barreling out of the house. “Uncle Cyrus! You’re here! Momma, he’s here!”
I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm, her curly pigtails bouncing with each step. This little girl has kept me grounded, and she doesn’t even know it.
Lily was barely one when Roman died, so she doesn’t really remember him.
Before his death, I was too much of an asshole, too full of myself to spend much time with my brother and his family. Maybe part of me was jealous because he was living domestic bliss, something I wasn’t even sure I wanted.
But at thirty-eight, I’m starting to realize kids aren’t in the cards for me, so I’ll spoil Lily rotten.
“Liliana Bear!” Throwing the truck in park, I hop out and spread my arms in the nick of time to catch her as she launches her tiny body at me. “How’s my birthday girl?” I ask, smacking a kiss on her cheek before blowing a raspberry under her chin.
The cutest giggle echoes through the air as she uses her little hands to pry me away. “That tickles and your face is scratchy!”
On the weekends, I give my skin a break from shaving daily and let the stubble grow out until Monday morning. I rub the offending hair against her cheek, sending her into another fit of laughter. A creak from the porch has me pulling back. Still clutching Lily in my arms, my gaze lands on Maggie.
Lily is the spitting image of her mother; curly blonde hair, skin decorated with freckles, and beautiful green eyes like sea glass.
Maggie’s lips pull into a grin, revealing the slight gap between her front teeth. Even at thirty-five, she still has girl-next-door good looks. Innocent and sweet, to match her kind personality. She’s always been like a little sister to me.
“Hey, stranger. How’ve you been?” she asks in greeting. Smiling, she crosses her arms and leans against the open door.
Hoisting Lily up until she’s situated on my shoulders, I climb the porch steps and pull Mags into a side hug. “Better now. This place always takes away the stress of the week. Are we ready to celebrate someone’s birthday?”
Lily squeals and kicks her bare feet against my shoulders. It’s early September, so the air is still warm with the last remnants of summer.
“Oh! I brought a cake and a present. They’re in the truck cab. Can you grab them, Maggie?”
She takes my keys from my outstretched hand and bounds toward the truck as I go inside, careful to duck through the doorway so Lily doesn’t hit her head on the doorframe. “How was the zoo, Liliana Bear?”
While I find my way to the living room, Lily rambles on about all the animals she saw on their trip to the zoo. “It was so fun, Uncle Cy! We saw an… an… Momma, what was the scaly rat thing called again?”
Maggie enters the room with an arm full, setting the cake and rainbow-covered gift on the coffee table. “An armadillo, Lily bug.”
“An armadillo! It was so awesome!” she squawks as I swing her from my shoulders and plop her on the couch. Her cheeks are flushed a rosy hue and the excitement in her sweet voice has warmth pumping from my heart to the tips of my fingers and toes. Maggie’s eyes twinkle as they linger on Lily, a soft smile tipping up one corner of her mouth.
This is exactly what I needed after a week of sparring with Antoinette Bauer.
A few hours later, we’re sitting around the kitchen table, about to cut into the cake I brought. A giant rainbow arches across the top, with five candles scattered around the edges. The small flames flicker in the late afternoon light. “Happy birthday to you!” As we sing the final note, Lily sucks in a huge breath, little chest puffed to full capacity.
“Blow ’em out, Lily girl!” Mags encourages.
A gusted breath leaves Lily, spittle flying onto the candles… and the cake. After a few more attempts, the final candle flickers out and my phone vibrates incessantly in my pocket .
Shoving my hand into the pocket of my jeans, I pull it out. The name on the screen has my temperature rising, and not in a good way. Why is she calling me on a Sunday?
Standing from the table, I hold up the offending phone and say, “Excuse me a second. I need to take this call quick.”
Maggie nods, already cutting into the cake while Lily bounces in her seat.
Stepping into the kitchen, I lean against the counter with a sigh, thumb swiping over to accept the call. “Yes, Ms. Bauer,” I answer, words laced with annoyance that I hope she notices.
Shuffling of papers filters down the line, followed by an irritated huff. “Have you seen the contract for the O’Malley property? I left it on your desk on Friday for your final review, and now I can’t find it. We need to get the numbers finalized and get the project off the ground—”
“Antoinette.”
“If we don’t get this contract finalized”—more shuffling papers—“we could lose the sale.”
“Antoinette.” She’s spiraling. I can practically picture the smoke billowing from her flared nostrils while her hands are buried in a pile of paperwork.
I’ve never met someone with a temper like Antoinette. Her fuse is almost non-existent. It would be funny how fast she flies into a tizzy if I wasn’t worried she’d set the whole damn office on fire .
“Hmm.” Finally the rustling stops and a sigh whooshes to my ear.
“Breathe for me. Can you do that? Match my breathing.” I blow out a long breath, listening for her to do the same. When she does, I suck in a long inhale, filling my lungs until they might burst. We repeat this process a few more times until I’m sure she’s calm. “Good girl. The contract is in my briefcase… at home. Do not panic. I looked over everything last night, and it’s ready for Penelope to send to O’Malley in the morning. Okay?”
The line is silent for a second, then her raspy voice hits my ear. “Okay. Thank you, Cyrus.”
Did she just… thank me ?
I want to gloat and rub it in, but she’s on the verge of a spiral, so I think better of it. “You’re welcome, Antoinette. Now, please go home and relax. It’s the weekend, for crying out loud. And please don’t call me on a Sunday again. This is the one day I dedicate to spending with my family. I do not wish to be disturbed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Not giving her a chance to respond, or ask questions, I end the call and return to the dining room. From my spot in the doorway, Lily has rainbow frosting smeared on most of her face while Mags laughs behind her hand, a napkin clutched in the other hand.
My heart warms and my lips pull into a smile as Lily’s giggle fills my ears and Maggie’s green gaze meets mine.
This, right here, is why I work my ass off in the city during the week. Sundays are my favorite day.