Page 234 of Manhattan Bossholes

I was desperate to find something to rouse Nana Dee’s spirits. Since her diagnosis, she had lost her spark—it was hard to get her engaged and excited about anything. That’s why I’d dreamed up this furniture commission idea—to get her invested in a project that would bring some of her vitality back. So, whether I liked it or not, I needed this furniture designer to show up.

“Just watch the oxygen tubing when she stands,” Sofia was saying. “She’s been tripping over the lines.”

“Right,” I said. We were all still adjusting to Nana Dee being put on supplemental oxygen. It helped her breathlessness when she was up and moving around, but with the dizzy spells she’d been having, it also gave her something else to potentially trip over.

The doorbell rang. The furniture designer was early. Maybe trying to make up for said unprofessional comments yesterday. I’d hoped to have a few minutes with Nana Dee to let her know what I’d arranged, but it looked like plans had changed.

“More company?” Sofia said, frowning.

“I’ve got the door,” I said. “Can you let Dee know I have a surprise for her?”

Sofia hummed. “I’m not sure she’s in the mood for that right now.”

“She’ll like this one. I’m sure of it.”

Sofia nodded, hurrying away to the living room, while I turned for the door, swinging it open just as the furniture designer was poised to knock. Only instead of the stranger I was expecting, this woman looked far too familiar.

“You!” I exclaimed at this nightmare come to life. I recognized her immediately—long dark hair, small waist, lips like a bow, bright eyes—and a scowl fit to scare off a demon as soon as her eyes met mine. She was holding a bag of bagels. What in the nine circles of hell was the world’s worst waitress doing standing on Nana Dee’s porch? I stood there, wondering if the nuisance would disappear if I closed the door and opened it again. What, was she here to dump even more coffee on me and laugh like a hyena about it? What the hell had I done to deserve this?

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she said, equal parts startled and horrified. “What is happening?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growled. “Are you stalking me now?”

Her expression shifted from shocked to offended. “How the hell would I stalk you when I don’t even know who you are? Contrary to your belief, the world does not revolve around you.”

Why had the universe insisted on trapping me in a loop with this woman? “I’m still waiting for the part where you tell me what you’re doing here.”

“I have a meeting. I was invited here. What are you doing here?”

Oh no. It couldn’t be. “You’re the furniture designer?”

“You’re my new commission?” Natasha said, repulsed. “The man who wanted new pieces for his grandmother? It’s not possible.”

Oh, was this the part where she was going to scold me for the way I spoke to my own father again? My blood pounded in my ears.

“After the way you talked to your⁠—”

I scowled at her. “That is none of your concern.”

Natasha crossed her arms. “Oh really? Well, if that’s the way you treat your dad, I’m now worried about this grandmother you apparently care so much about.”

“You are so far out of line you can’t even see the line anymore.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

A car drove by. One of the neighbors in his top-down convertible. He lifted his hand to wave. I forced a smile and returned the wave. “Can you please stop making a scene on the porch? The neighbors are going to think something’s wrong.”

“Something is wrong.”

“Just get in here already,” I demanded, stepping aside.

Her eyebrows rose at the order. I watched with too much interest the way her lips parted slightly. She seemed to be considering whether she could turn tail and run instead. Then she threw her shoulders back and trudged past me into the house.

I tried not to stare at her ass, summoning the same patience I used when circumstances forced me to deal with my parents. As I closed the door, I noticed her looking around, gathering information or ammo or maybe just appreciating Nana Dee’s taste in furniture.

She came back to herself, narrowing her eyes the moment they locked with mine. “Well, I’m inside. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” I told her. “Almost as ecstatic as I was to receive your crass message.” A smile curled across my face as she visibly bristled. Ah, yes, let’s talk about that instead of my relationship with my family.