shift .
****
“I make that amount in seven minutes? Could I have sounded any more arrogant?” Aiden tossed his briefcase onto the empty chair in his office and slumped onto the leather sofa. He raked a hand through his hair and stood near the large window above the busy Manhattan streets. And he’d called her Holly ? He knew damn well what her name was. Too well. He knew too much about her and hated to admit he liked everything he knew. Smart and independent. He suspected she was the daughter of Mel Bishop, one of the most well respected men working in commercial real estate in the city. With her dark hair the color of chocolate, and her deep set emerald eyes, she looked just like her father. Her lips were full and rosy, and when she smiled… He shook the image of the woman from his head.
Over the last few weeks, he’d heard about her search for a job in public relations and her refusal to accept her father’s help. He admired her determination, but he wanted to shake her. Forty-seven dollars in the bank, and she wanted to return his money?
His receptionist buzzed a moment later. “Mr. Ford, your two o’clock appointment is waiting in the lobby.”
He hit the intercom button. “Okay, Lynn, send her in, in two minutes.” He removed his overcoat and straightened his tie. Tomorrow, he would apologize to Molly for his rudeness and convince her to go see Bob.
Opening his laptop, he skimmed through the profile of the client waiting in the lobby. Oh, this one is going to need work…and lots of it.
****
Stretching four hours later, Aiden stood and closed his laptop. He grabbed his coat from the hook on the door and shut the blinds to the office window. It was dark outside, and the forecasted snow covered the ground. The Christmas lights from the surrounding buildings created a warm glow on the city, and he looked forward to an evening in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine.
Beeep! The building’s buzzer rang.
Who was that? Lynn had already left for the day. He had no more appointments that evening. “Hello?”
“Delivery for A. Ford,” a gruff voice announced through the building’s intercom.
Delivery? “Come on in.” Aiden glanced at his watch. His favorite television show started in twenty minutes. This better not take long. He opened the door and waited in the hallway for the delivery man. He locked the door and turned. The man approaching him carried a brown cardboard box with the words Pet Adoption Center written on the side. Must have the wrong A. Ford.
“Aiden Ford?”
“Yes.”
“Sign here, please.” The man handed Aiden a delivery pad and pen. He motioned to the signature box.
Aiden studied the slip, a frown forming on his face.
A loud bark came from inside the box.
“There’s been a mistake. I didn’t order a dog.” Aiden handed back the pad.
The driver refused to take it, shaking his head. “You Aiden Ford?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then the pooch is yours…” He flipped through a notebook he carried and nodded. “Yup, says here a Miss Molly Bishop placed the order. Must be an early Christmas present,” he insisted as the box struggled and wiggled next to their feet.
The smell of urine hit Aiden’s nose, and he groaned. “Please return the dog to Miss Bishop. I’ll pay whatever fees are associated.” He took his wallet from his back pocket.
“No can do. There’s no return address.” The driver set down three plastic bags from Pet City .
“What’s in the bags?”
“Looks like dog food.”
About eighty-seven dollars worth would be his guess. “What am I supposed to do with this dog?” Aiden asked as he signed the delivery slip. “I live in a pet free building.”
“Sounds like a personal problem to me… Anyway, you signed for him, he’s yours.” The driver took the pad from him and bounded down the stairs. “Have a Merry Christmas.” He disappeared through the revolving door.
Aiden opened the box and peered inside. “What exactly are you? A
****
“I make that amount in seven minutes? Could I have sounded any more arrogant?” Aiden tossed his briefcase onto the empty chair in his office and slumped onto the leather sofa. He raked a hand through his hair and stood near the large window above the busy Manhattan streets. And he’d called her Holly ? He knew damn well what her name was. Too well. He knew too much about her and hated to admit he liked everything he knew. Smart and independent. He suspected she was the daughter of Mel Bishop, one of the most well respected men working in commercial real estate in the city. With her dark hair the color of chocolate, and her deep set emerald eyes, she looked just like her father. Her lips were full and rosy, and when she smiled… He shook the image of the woman from his head.
Over the last few weeks, he’d heard about her search for a job in public relations and her refusal to accept her father’s help. He admired her determination, but he wanted to shake her. Forty-seven dollars in the bank, and she wanted to return his money?
His receptionist buzzed a moment later. “Mr. Ford, your two o’clock appointment is waiting in the lobby.”
He hit the intercom button. “Okay, Lynn, send her in, in two minutes.” He removed his overcoat and straightened his tie. Tomorrow, he would apologize to Molly for his rudeness and convince her to go see Bob.
Opening his laptop, he skimmed through the profile of the client waiting in the lobby. Oh, this one is going to need work…and lots of it.
****
Stretching four hours later, Aiden stood and closed his laptop. He grabbed his coat from the hook on the door and shut the blinds to the office window. It was dark outside, and the forecasted snow covered the ground. The Christmas lights from the surrounding buildings created a warm glow on the city, and he looked forward to an evening in front of the fireplace with a glass of wine.
Beeep! The building’s buzzer rang.
Who was that? Lynn had already left for the day. He had no more appointments that evening. “Hello?”
“Delivery for A. Ford,” a gruff voice announced through the building’s intercom.
Delivery? “Come on in.” Aiden glanced at his watch. His favorite television show started in twenty minutes. This better not take long. He opened the door and waited in the hallway for the delivery man. He locked the door and turned. The man approaching him carried a brown cardboard box with the words Pet Adoption Center written on the side. Must have the wrong A. Ford.
“Aiden Ford?”
“Yes.”
“Sign here, please.” The man handed Aiden a delivery pad and pen. He motioned to the signature box.
Aiden studied the slip, a frown forming on his face.
A loud bark came from inside the box.
“There’s been a mistake. I didn’t order a dog.” Aiden handed back the pad.
The driver refused to take it, shaking his head. “You Aiden Ford?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then the pooch is yours…” He flipped through a notebook he carried and nodded. “Yup, says here a Miss Molly Bishop placed the order. Must be an early Christmas present,” he insisted as the box struggled and wiggled next to their feet.
The smell of urine hit Aiden’s nose, and he groaned. “Please return the dog to Miss Bishop. I’ll pay whatever fees are associated.” He took his wallet from his back pocket.
“No can do. There’s no return address.” The driver set down three plastic bags from Pet City .
“What’s in the bags?”
“Looks like dog food.”
About eighty-seven dollars worth would be his guess. “What am I supposed to do with this dog?” Aiden asked as he signed the delivery slip. “I live in a pet free building.”
“Sounds like a personal problem to me… Anyway, you signed for him, he’s yours.” The driver took the pad from him and bounded down the stairs. “Have a Merry Christmas.” He disappeared through the revolving door.
Aiden opened the box and peered inside. “What exactly are you? A
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