Fired by my Grumpy Dragon (Grumpy Monster Bosses #3)

TWENTY NINE

Kivrayn

“What does she want now?” The voice is bitter, even over the intercom. The apartment complex is a new build. Its glossy glass facade stands out starkly against the more elegant historic buildings in the center of the city.

“She hasn’t sent us. In fact, she doesn’t even know we’re here. I’m the owner of Firestarter Action House, and what I’m hoping is that we can come to some arrangement about the collection.”

The woman on the other end of the intercom scoffs, and beside me, Loren makes a face. “What’s her problem?” she mouths.

I fix her with a stern look, but before I can tell her not to judge until we know everything, the intercom cuts out.

I’m about to dial again when the click of the door unlocking surprises me.

“You might as well come up and say whatever it is you want to say so I can tell you no. I’m so sick of her tricks. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

I pull the door open before Sarah can change her mind, and I hold it open for Loren. We ride in the elevator in silence. I’m trying to keep my mind and hands from wandering under her sweater dress, which is far too short for sanity. Who knows what Loren is thinking. Sometimes I think I have her figured out, and then she throws all my theories into the next breeze.

Jenny’s daughter opens the door in a dressing gown and slippers, and I have to wrestle with my face not to let my thoughts show in my expression. What kind of person has so little self-respect that they would let strangers into their home looking like this?

My first glance at the apartment lets me know the answer. The kind of person who also doesn’t care about the state of her den.

Disgusting!

Things are littered everywhere: empty bottles and dirty dishes. There is a half-eaten burger on greasy wrapping on the arm of the sofa, and my nose tells me it’s not fresh.

Sarah’s cheeks are hollow and there are dark patches beneath her eyes that suggest more than just lack of sleep. There’s something very wrong in this family. Sarah is old enough to have children if I can judge correctly. Probably about forty. She appears to live alone, though.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet us,” says Loren warmly, holding out her hand to Sarah. “I’m Loren. Don’t mind Kivrayn. He’s still jetlagged.”

I narrow my eyes at her, but she willfully ignores me. Why does she feel the need to lie to Sarah?

Sarah nods as if that unlocks some profound mystery. “Listen, I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s Mum. Miserable old cow doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone. Did you know she wrote conditions into her will to make sure I’ll never see a pound? I’m sure Percy was in her ear about it.”

“You’re not close? ”

Sarah rolls her eyes. “No one could be close to that block of ice. He’s just as bad as Mum. Doesn’t even talk to his own kids.”

I’m beginning to see a pattern here. With every minute, I’m less sure this is any type of lead and more convinced it’s a waste of time.

“You want a cuppa?” asks Sarah.

“No.”

“Thank you,” Loren says pointedly.

“Thank you, we really just came to see if you’d be interested in helping us to convince your mother to be a little more reasonable.”

Sarah barks a laugh. “Ha! Good luck.”

Despite our refusal, she goes into the kitchen and puts the kettle on, leaning on the grubby counter. “What makes you think she knows the meaning of the word?”

“Surely there’s something you can think of that might persuade her? You know, I got the impression she’d like to see you,” says Loren.

Sarah stops in the process of scooping sugar and lets the spoon clatter into the mug. “You’ve got to be joking! I want nothing to do with her.”

“She’s dying,” I growl. “Surely that has to mean something. You won’t have forever to change your mind, and I can promise you, you’ll regret it if you don’t try.”

Sarah shoves a thick finger in my face. “You have no idea. I want you to leave now. You get out of my house. Get out!”

I bite back the rest of what I would say to her. It would only be a waste of breath. This stupid woman isn’t going to listen to me or anyone else. I might not like Jenny all that much, but I know all too well the importance of saying a decent goodbye, even if only for your own peace of mind.

Loren is uncharacteristically quiet as we leave the building. I expected a snide comment. Or a barrage of complaints. Instead, she folds her arms over her chest and leans back against the wall of the elevator. “Well, so far, I like neither of Jenny’s children. No wonder she wants to cut them out of the inheritance.”

I huff. “Got that right. They both seem like arrogant twats to me.”

She laughs.

I catch her eye in the mirrored wall, and she smiles at me. “Did we just agree on something else? Be careful. Next thing you know, you’ll be getting the feels or something.”

She has no idea.

Which is good. She can never know. The fact that I walk out of the building on her heels, dreaming about the curve of her hips and the eager face she makes when one of my cocks is almost in her mouth is embarrassing. What’s worse, I spend the cab ride back to my hotel picturing what it might be like to have that smile directed at me more often. To have her around more often.

The cab stops outside the Kensington and I get out, holding the door open for Loren.

“Next stop, Urban Stay Hotel,” she tells the driver.

“What? No!” I’m still holding the door just to make sure she can’t drive off.

Loren gives me an exasperated look. “Kiv, I need to at least get a change of clothes if you insist on locking me up in your penthouse with you. Is that OK with you? ”

“No,” I growl. “Yes.” I get back into the cab beside her and give the driver the directions again.

“What are you doing?” Loren asks.

“Supervising,” I say needlessly. God, is there any chance I’ll keep a shred of dignity when this business is done? Will it ever be done?

The possibility of ever letting her set foot outside my arm’s reach again feels unlikely.

I’m such a fucking ass.

I’ve gone and doomed us both. Only time will tell whether I’ll make her more unhappy first, or if she’ll die and leave me alone.

Again.

Also Kiv? “Kiv?” I ask her indignantly.

She only laughs. “It suits you.”

I lean close and whisper in her ear. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Promises, promises.”