Chapter 9 #2
I keep my face blank, but I’m gathering all this information against Mario Mancusio just in case I ever need it.
Who would have thought Penelope would be an asset?
I’m still kind of suspicious of her behavior though.
What does she want, and why is she sharing this information so freely?
Is she trying her hand at playing both sides, because that shit won’t fly with me.
“As for her parents, well, they aren’t in her life at this stage…
or not very often.” Her tone has me looking a little closer at her.
She sounds kind of concerned, but before I can make anything of it, she shakes her head and slaps her hands on her knees and stands up.
“Anyway, Mario has a thing tonight, and I’m attending with him.
I have an appointment in the salon to get my nails done because I can’t possibly go with this.
” She raises her hands and shows me what I think looks like a fairly decent manicure.
“Mario expects me to present a certain degree of perfection, and these just won’t do.
Be a dear and watch Addi for me while I’m gone. It shouldn’t take too long.”
Excuse me, what the actual fuck? I can’t believe her audacity, and I am so stunned that I haven’t replied by the time she extracts her phone from Addison and breezes from the room. My mouth is still wide open when the little girl giggles and points at me.
“You look like a fish.” She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times in what I think is an imitation of a goldfish.
“Fuck.” I lean back in my chair, blowing out a breath as my poor brain tries to catch up.
“That’s another bad word. What’s your name?” I’m Addi,” she says, swinging her legs back and forth while holding onto the armrests. “You’re really pretty.” She looks around my office, her pretty green eyes wide. “Do you have any food? I’m hungry. Also, where’s the bathroom? I have to potty.”
Potty? Fuck, does she wear a diaper? Am I going to have to change it? I stab the intercom with my finger.
“Susan!” I shout. “Susan, get in here.” I can’t hide the panic in my voice, but the door doesn’t burst open, and our secretary doesn’t appear. “Fuck!”
The little girl crosses her legs and winces. “Please, I have to go bad.”
In a panic, I push my chair back and jump to my feet, hurrying over to the door to my bathroom and wrenching it open.
She slides off her chair and rushes over to me, her hands clasped between her legs.
She hurries to the toilet and pulls her underwear down to the floor before climbing onto the seat.
I turn around, giving her my back as she does her business.
I don’t turn until it flushes, and when I do, her underwear has been pulled up again, and she’s holding out her hands.
I step back and put my hands up, not wanting her to touch me.
“You have to help me wash them. I can’t reach,” she tells me, staring at me like I’m stupid, and I glance from her to the sink.
“Lift me up,” she orders, waving her arms in front of her.
Wrinkling my nose, I go over and bend down, putting my hands under the child’s armpits, then I lift her to the sink.
She leans forward and turns on the tap before using the pump soap and rubbing her hands together.
She makes bubbles and claps her hands together twice before she washes them under the running water, then she turns her head and looks at me.
“I’m done now,” she explains, and I frown. She looks down at the floor, and I realize I am still holding her. I lower her and step back like my pants are on fire.
She moves over and dries her hands on one of the towels on the rack before looking at me again.
“What?” I ask, and she frowns, putting her hands on her hips and looking up at me like I’m an unruly toddler who could use with a nap.
“You’re grumpy.”
“Well, you’re short,” I retort. Not my finest moment, I admit, but what the fuck am I supposed to do with her now? We’re at a stalemate when I hear my office open, and I say a prayer to those watching over me, hoping it’s Penelope realizing it was a bad idea to leave a child with me.
I hurry out of the bathroom but screech to a halt when I see Bryce standing there, holding a gun.
“I heard you screaming. Is everything okay?” He looks around the room, and I see his shoulders relax when he realizes there isn’t any imminent danger.
“Put that thing away,” I hiss, and he tucks it into the holster at the small of his back just as Addison comes out of the bathroom.
“Oh my god!” Bryce practically clutches his invisible pearls. “Who the fuck let you around a child?” he asks, looking between me and the small being.
I groan and go back to my chair, slumping into it. “Penelope blindsided me. This is her latest squeeze’s grandchild, and she had a manicure appointment.”
“Hi, I’m Addi.” The little girl skips over to Bryce and holds out her hand like she wants him to shake it.
He slowly reaches forward, a charmed smile appearing on his lips. “I’m Bryce.”
“Nice to meet ya,” she says and starts walking around the room, poking around the things on my office shelves.
“What do I do with her?” I ask him desperately, and he begins to chuckle.
“Oh my god, look at you. You’re completely panicked. I’ve seen you face some of the toughest SOBs without even blinking, and a small female child turns you into a quivering mess. I have to get a pic.’ He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, but I growl, and he freezes.
“Not a fucking word to anyone if you value your life.”
He nods slowly but doesn’t stop grinning like a complete fool.
“So what do I do with her?” I ask again, and he shrugs, but before he can answer, she does.
“Can I have something to eat? I’m so hungry.” She turns to look at me, and there’s a twinkle of something in her eyes.
I look at Bryce again, not sure if I should feed her or if she’s like a gremlin and shouldn’t be fed at certain times.
He shrugs. “Sure, what do you want? We can get the kitchen to bring you something.”
She claps her hands and bounces on the spot.
“Can I have those chicken things that are nice and crunchy and fries? My grandfather says that ladies shouldn’t eat fried food if they want to keep their figures, but my mommy got them for me once, and they were delicious.
” Her face drops, and she looks at the floor.
“Grandfather wasn’t happy with her, and Mommy cried. ”
I stare at her. There is so much to unpack with that whole thing. What in the ever loving Stepford wives crap is that? “Crunchy chicken things?”
I look to Bryce for help, and I can see him trying to process it.
“Chicken fingers?” he asks the little girl who lifts her head and nods enthusiastically.
“Yes, the fingers of chickens. I really want those.” She bats her eyelashes at him, and I can see him melt. He’s a complete goner for the pretty little thing.
I scoff and reach for the phone. “Nice little bit of manipulation there, kid.” I put in the order to the kitchen, adding a strawberry milkshake for her and my own lunch order before looking at Bryce with narrowed eyes. “What do you want?”
He shakes his head and opens his mouth to give me some kind of excuse, but I growl again, and he sighs before rattling off his order, knowing he isn’t leaving me alone with this kid. They assure me it will be up in twenty minutes, so I hang up and look around for something I can distract her with.
She picks up a pack of cards from the table and sits on the floor. “Can we play Go Fish?” she asks me before turning her attention back to Bryce, instinctively knowing he’s the pushover.
He sighs and toes of his shoes before hiking his suit pants up and sitting down on the carpet across from her. “We can play a few rounds before lunch gets here. Come on, Tori, it’s better with more than two players.”
The smirk he gives me is mischievous, and I consider getting up and kicking him with the pointy toe of my heel, but the little girl clasps her hands together like she’s praying and looks at me.
“Pretty please.”
I catch sight of the bruises on her arms and blow out a breath, knowing I have already lost this battle. I toe off my own shoes, leaving them under the desk, and join them on the floor. Bryce is shuffling the cards like the pro I know he is.
“Do you know how to play Go Fish, Tori?” Addi asks as Bryce deals us each seven cards.
I scoff and pick up my hand, fanning them out to see what I have—all singles, unfortunately. “Of course I do. I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”
“Tori,” Bryce scolds, but if he thinks I’m going to let the little girl win, he is dreaming. I watch as she struggles to hold all the cards in her hands. She picks them up one at a time and holds them in a pile, turning each over to look at it. I sigh and shuffle over.
“If you are going to play cards, you need to know how to hold them properly.” I show her how to fan them out, which is a little tricky with such small hands, but she eventually gets the hang of it, and she looks proudly at me before glaring.
“You looked at my cards. That’s cheating.”
I wave my hand and move back to my spot. “You’re right, that isn’t fair, is it?” I toss my crappy hand into the middle and gesture for the others to do the same. “We can redeal.” She grins and nods as Bryce shuffles and redeals.
“What is the prize?” she asks with a gleam in her eye, and Bryce chuckles.
“How about whoever wins the most hands can have a cookie from the restaurant?”
She purses her lips and taps a finger on the side of her mouth like she’s thinking about it, and I suspect this little girl is not as clueless as we first thought. “Make it a banana split and you’ve got a deal.”
Bryce bursts out with laughter and holds out his hand, and the two of them shake. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”