I wasn’t back. Not by a long shot.
But drowning my emotions in a few martinis felt necessary at the moment.
Chapter Twenty-SixMyles
“Next time you and your crew decide to show up late, you won’t be employed here,” I told the foreman.
He nodded and apologized for the third time.
I’d been back in the city for several weeks now, and I was sick and tired of being a fucking babysitter.
“Myles,” Connor said, his voice low and even so only I would hear. “How about we take it down a notch.”
I came to an abrupt stop, tugging my black overcoat closed at the collar. “Take it down a notch? They’ve been late multiple times. That’s not how you make a good name for yourself.”
Connor pushed the door open, and we stepped out onto the busy street. “They were four minutes late.”
“I clocked them at a hell of a lot later than that.”
“You arrived thirty minutes early. That doesn’t count toward them being late. They were actually four minutes late, Myles. And they’ve been working late every day. We’re making good progress, and we’re ahead of schedule.”
“Whatever. They shouldn’t be four minutes late. We pay them well. I’m never late. I expect the people who work for me to show the same respect.” We walked side by side as we made our way to the coffee shop next door.
Our coffees were waiting for us, as Connor had used the app to place our order. Samuel was meeting us here, and we found a table for three in the back where we normally sat.
I took a sip of my coffee and let out an irritated huff. “Damn it. This coffee tastes like shit again.”
“You’ve said that every day for a month. Perhaps you should order something different.”
Connor was an even-keeled dude, but I could tell he was annoyed with me, even if he did his best to try to hide it.
We were friends, but at the end of the day, I was his boss, and he worked for me. He didn’t know where that line was. And with me being as moody as I’d been lately, I didn’t blame him for treading lightly.
Samuel came through the door, and Connor waved him over. My assistant almost had a look of relief on his face as my brother made his way over to the table.
As if sitting here with just me was that painful?
Fuck him.
Fuck everyone, as far as I’m concerned.
Samuel gave us each a pound of his fist as he slipped his coat off and took the seat across from me. He reached for his coffee and took a sip before setting it back down. “Damn. They really do have the best coffee in New York City.”
“Well, you and I are the only two who agree on that,” Connor snipped, and I glared at him.
“Oh, let me guess. We’re still hating the coffee. The traffic. The noise. The weather.” He chuckled.
“The construction crew. The doorman at his building. Anyone who has a dog attached to their leash. Cyclists who ride on city streets. Themailman, because how dare he think he should deliver the mail during the workday.” Connor smirked before taking another sip of his coffee.
Apparently, he isn’t afraid of pissing me off.
“Fuck both of you. And what the hell is going on today? Why the fuck is that dude dressed like a fucking pirate? And that kid over there who keeps giving me attitude looks like a goddamn pumpkin. Has everyone lost their fucking minds?” I grumped.
Both Connor and Samuel laughed, which irritated me even more.
“Myles,” my brother said, his eyes suddenly filled with empathy, even though I wasn’t the asshole dressed like a moron. “It’s Halloween. And the kid giving you attitude is maybe two years old and doesn’t know how to shit in a toilet. He doesn’t know you exist, nor does he care. He’s just checking the place out.”
“I hate Halloween.”
