There was a park near the tower. It was lushly landscaped, with petunias and other winter flowers in artful beds. The fountain in the center of the park was iced over and lightly dusted with snow. The lighting was like a spotlight.
“It's like the movieLa La Land—except in New York in the middle of winter!” I said, happily striking a pose. Then I shivered. I was seriously regretting sacrificing warmth for a good picture.
18
Owen
Istayed late in the office, partially because I needed to do work and partially because I was scheming about how to steal more cookies. Unlike most people, when I decided I wanted something, I went after it. Of course, I didn't rush in blindly; I analyzed my goal rationally. If it was a worthy goal and achievable, I went for it, like a wolf after an elk.
That was how I had made billions on Bitcoin when other people were joking about it on TV. That same mentality was also how I had grown my company when everyone was wondering how data analytics and cybersecurity could possibly work together. And that mind-set was how I was going to get those cookies. They were seriously addicting.
My plan was simple: take Rudolph downstairs to the studio and poke around for the cookies. Surely the production company didn't throw away perfectly edible food. If anyone asked, I would shove the dog at them to distract them then make a hasty exit.
Except when I went into the studio, there wasn't a single crumb to be found.
“Owen, what are you doing?” Belle called out as I was prowling around the greenroom.
“Just looking for my cuff link.”
My older sister looked at me suspiciously. I kept my face a smooth, cold mask.
“You're such a weirdo,” Belle said.
I gestured to my puppy. “Isn't he cute?”
“What are you really here for?” my sister said.
“Sorry, he has to go out,” I said, picking up Rudolph and heading to the elevator. He was making that dancing motion that let me know his puppy-sized bladder was about to give up the Ghost of Christmas Past. I mentally cursed at the Christmas reference. It was infiltrating everything. There was no escape from the holiday.
As soon as I stepped off the elevator in the lobby, a giant elf launched herself at me.
“Owen! What a surprise!”
Rudolph barked.
“Sloane?”
“It's Amber,” the girl said, annoyed. “From the bake-off. Who is Sloane?” Her eyes, heavy with makeup, narrowed.
“No one.” I sighed and looked down at the dog, figuring she had startled him so badly that I might need to call the custodians.
“Funny we should bump into each other like this,” Amber said with a high-pitched laugh. She was wearing pointy elf ears, and her hair was shellacked into a cartoonish swoop away from her face.
“Uh—”
“We should totally grab a drink!” she suggested.
“I can't. I have to—” I held up the dog then made a hasty retreat to the park my company owned near my tower.
Even though Rudolph's mom was a Dalmatian, in the snow, the puppy was all husky. He bounded ahead of me, snapping at the snowflakes. I watched him and also tried to figure out how I was going to acquire more of those cookies. The simplest solution was to just ask Holly. I thought about how furious she had been earlier. No, that was not a solution.
Rudolph stopped in front of me, ear cocked. I was on the lookout for any other members on the laundry list of crazy women in my life. I stood still, trying not to breathe, then glided into the trees, glad it was snowing so my hair wouldn't stand out. Rudolph, completely oblivious to any of my silent hand signals, bounded forward. I moved slowly through the woods to the other side of the park, near the fountain. A girl was there taking pictures.
“Holly,” I breathed. She looked… well, she looked good. The strapless dress hugged her curves, and she posed in front of the camera, tossing her hair and making sexy faces. Then she made a few silly faces, laughing. I smiled in spite of myself.
Holly didn't see Rudolph, who had chosen that time to try out his hunting skills. The little puppy crept around the fountain. Holly was posing on the edge of it. In those high heels, she was going to fall if the puppy scared her.
My company owned this park, plus I was out here with Holly alone. I could just see the headlines—“Billionaire Kills Baker!” The Svenssons would have a fit.TechBizwould vote my company the worst ever.
