“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.
