Lucky Neighbor: A Second Chance Secret Baby Romance

by Gage Grayson

  That’s all alright with me.

  Carrying the garbage all the way to the refuge room and emptying into the chute myself is also alright with me.

  Who am I kidding? It’s the highlight of my fucking day.

  The weird energy is already dying down when I walk back through the reception area carrying the empty trash can. Most everyone is squirreled away in their respective offices as usual.

  I toss the trash can back into the empty boardroom; it lands right side up in the perfect spot.

  I start walking back to my office at the end of the hall. Back to the old routine.

  I wouldn’t mind a routine rest of the day, or a routine rest of the week. I’ll admit that sounds pretty fucking comforting.

  There’s something askew in the usual corridor of closed doors.

  There’s only one door open, but it’s a door that’s never open.

  I don’t remember the last time I was in Barrister’s office.

  John Barrister and Leroy Rosen are as close to the upper echelons of NYC finance as anyone in this firm, or this building.

  Barrister and Rosen, with their gray hair, suit vests, and general air of having been around for-fucking-ever, are like a classic cartoon of old executives.

  Like if Mr.Dithers from the “Blondie” comic strips came to life, and he had a twin brother.

  They’re cartoony, but they’re also pretty intimidating, especially for rookies at the office.

  Right now, Barrister’s office door is open, and I can hear his brandy and cigar–seasoned laugh.

  Now I hear Rosen laughing too. Uproariously.

  I don’t know what the fuck’s going on in there, but now I have to see it.

  Literally—the door’s open, and I have to walk past whatever crazy fucking scene is happening to get to my office.

  I keep pace walking by Barrister’s office, moving my head only slightly to get a look inside.

  There’s Barrister and Rosen, alright, both of them standing by Barrister’s desk and guffawing up a storm.

  I feel like I must’ve stepped through a time warp back to the fifties or sixties, because I see three glasses of brandy sitting on the desk as well.

  Not two. Three glasses.

  One for Rosen, one for Barrister and one for Kallie—the only one of the trio who spots me as I walk by.

  Kallie and I make brief eye contact. I nod at her; she turns back to the two executives.

  Walking into my office, I hear Kallie saying something.

  I can’t make out a word of it, but it sends the two partners into more hysterics.

  I should’ve given Kallie more credit. She weirded me the fuck out earlier, but apparently she’s got schmoozing skills like I’ve never fucking seen.

  Shit’s getting weird today, but maybe tomorrow can be nice and boring.

  Oh well, time to get to work.

  Ethan

  This is all I needed right now. Just this one cup of coffee from the deli, as massive as this fucking thing is, is delivering the perfect degree of comfort, heat, and caffeine.

  The copious amounts of raw sugar and half and half are completing this wonderful salve for my tired-ass soul.

  It’s a sunny Thursday morning. The grid of streets and sidewalks I can see though my window is glistening, buzzing, and pulsating with the life of a new day.

  There’s plenty of energy to go around. Yeah, I only got two hours of sleep, but that’s plenty.

  My laptop, tablet, and business phone are all glowing on my desk. They are powered up, powered on, and ready to power through another long, quiet day of work.

  That’s right. Plain, run-of-the-mill, boring old fucking routine is winning out over the weird David Lynchian shit that keeps threatening to overtake this whole office.

  Like yesterday, I’m in market analysis mode today.

  I know it sounds thrilling.

  But fucking seriously, after spending almost an entire day and night delving deep into global market analysis and weighing investment options, I am honestly thrilled to spend the rest of the week like this.

  Eventually, people are going to want to talk. Partners, analysts, investors—they all want to make certain that I’m earning my four percent.

  But I don’t want to talk to anyone today, and no one wants to talk business on fucking Friday, so to repeat myself, I’m goddamn thrilled to wait until Monday for any of that shit.

  I close my eyes for just a moment, resting them, before getting back to work.

  I’m standing by the window, but I feel my whole body relax. I let my mind slip into blankness for a few seconds, focusing on nothing but the faint sound of a phone ringing in the distance.

  I open my eyes, completely refreshed. Who needs regular, time-consuming sleep anyway?

  Fuck, I dropped my coffee on the fucking floor, though.

  I close my eyes for a few more seconds, hearing indistinct conversation somewhere in the hallway.

  I open my eyes again.

  The tan ocean of coffee, cream, and sugar is slowly expanding and seeping into the carpet by my feet. Time to get to work on that shit so I can get to work for real.

  I jog out into the hallway. It’s especially loud and crowded all of a sudden.

  It’s almost nine o’clock, and everybody’s showing up to work, finally.

  We must have paper towels around here somewhere. Where the fuck are they?

  Feeling fearless, I tap John Barrister on the arm as he passes me, trying to get his attention.

  Barrister stops, looks down at his arm, then looks at me with shock and bewilderment.

  “Say, you wouldn’t know where I could find some paper towels, would ya?”

  Barrister’s brow furrows in slow motion.

  “What do I look like, a goddamn building custodian?”

  I barely hold in a laugh. Barrister sees right through me. His jowls are turning cherry red.

  “What’s so goddamn funny, Barrett?” he barks.

  “I’ve never heard anyone say the word custodian so angrily before. To be frank, I thought it was fantastic. But seriously, do you any idea where...”

  Barrister’s already hobbling away, muttering. I can’t make out most of what he’s saying, but I’m pretty sure he calls me a beatnik at one point.

  “Just get a receptionist to call a janitor.”

  I actually jump at the sound of Rosen’s voice behind me, but I play it cool and nonchalantly swivel around to respond.

  “A janitor for what?”

  “For the cheap, dime-store coffee splattered all over your office floor.”

  Rosen’s arms are crossed grumpily as he looks up at me. He’s clutching his Homburg hat in one hand.

  “You were in—”

  “That’s right. I graced your office with my very own presence, if you can believe such a thing. Only I didn’t find you there. I found only the evidence of your rubbishy taste and your carelessness.”

  “I think it’s good coff—”

  “But not to worry. I sent an intern to clean it. I need to drill in your head that you are not to waste your talents, nor part of a costly business day, on janitorial work. It’s absurd.”

  “Uh-huh. Why were you in my office?”

  Rosen’s arms uncross, but he keeps his hat up by his chest, close to his heart.

  “Did someone die?”

  “Is that your attempt at humor, Barrett?”

  “No.”

  “Everyone at the firm is still very much alive, but so is this blasted investigation.”

  My accumulated fatigue rams into me with the weight of a truck. Luckily, it doesn’t last long, and I’m back in lucid work mode before I can conk out on the floor.

  “Right. I guess we just need to let them do their jobs, right? If we’ve got nothing to hide...”

  “What are you on about, Barrett?” Rosen crosses his arms again. “We need you in the meeting at five. But until then, please don’t say a word about it!”

  I swear that Rosen makes
a literal huff noise when he spins around and strides away from me.

  The unfortunate intern tasked with cleaning the coffee from my office did a fine job. When I walk back in, the carpet is pristine and the cup is gone.

  My manic enthusiasm for working is also gone.

  There’s another meeting with the SEC in just a few hours. I sit down on the small burgundy love seat by the window.

  I feel charged with excitement, but not the kind of excitement that’ll help me focus. I lie down to rest my eyes for a few more seconds.

  I open my eyes to see my office awash in auburn sunlight. That’s better; all I need is a few seconds at a time, or a few...

  What fucking time is it?

  I leap off my love seat and make it all the way to my desk in one bound. I grab my phone and fuck, of course it’s fucking five-twenty already.

  Is Madeline even still here?

  I’ve been doing such a good job of not thinking about when Maddie will show up next, of letting things happen in their own time, that I may just fucking miss her entirely.

  I use the front camera on my phone to quickly check my hair, then I tear out of my office like Usain Bolt rushing to make a tight connection at LaGuardia.

  It takes about twenty seconds to walk from my office to the boardroom at a leisurely pace. Fortunately, I’m traveling much faster than that.

  I see a quick blur of the gothic hallway and hear a split second of what sounds like somebody laughing, and I’m already opening the door to the boardroom and seeing Kallie giving a presentation.

  Wait.

  What?

  The fuck?

  Kallie’s wearing her bright-blue hair down today, and it’s falling almost to her shoulders. She’s wearing a very similar dress to the one she had yesterday, only this one is dark gray instead of black.

  She’s pointing to something on the wall, and just as I walk in, a gale of laughter bursts from the conference table.

  I have no idea what Kallie said, but she got a huge laugh from the firm’s upper management, and now she’s smiling at me as if she expected me to walk in.

  I take a few more steps in, trying not to look too fucking tentative. Maddie is sitting at my usual spot at the far end of the table. She’s wearing a pleasant expression, but she doesn’t have the same amused, shit-eating grin the partners and execs are all displaying.

  “Thank you, Ms. Fern.” Barrister is standing up, slowly, and he’s using his kindliest voice. “That’s a wonderful demonstration of modern securities practices, and I’m sure an illuminating view of how we do things for Ms...”

  “Madeline,” Maddie says, also standing up. “I appreciate all your effort, Ms. Fern, but I’m quite familiar with industry machinations.”

  That word instantly sucks the air from the room.

  “Machinations?” Rosen’s voice asks accusingly.

  “Excuse me, I mean your methods, your procedures, your way of functioning...”

  “That’s not what it sounded like to me.” Rosen spins in his seat to face me. “What did it sound like to you, Mr. Barrett, now that we’re almost half an hour into this important meeting?”

  “It sounded like an innocent mistake,” I answer. “An imprecise word choice.”

  There are crumpled plastic bags from the office supply store at Kallie’s feet. It looks like she’s mounted a whiteboard to the wall and left a pile of various colored markers on the floor beneath it.

  “That’s very interesting.” Rosen’s voice is becoming his infamous snarl. “I’m so glad our time is valuable enough for you to show up at all!”

  Holy fucking shit. I don’t usually hear him yell that intensely.

  “Alright, Leroy. I know this is tense for all of us.” Barrister’s using his best soothing tone as he glares at Rosen and sits back down.

  “Please, proceed,” Rosen says hoarsely.

  Madeline walks around the side of the table, getting closer to the whiteboard, and to me.

  She’s wearing a black-and-white pleated dress, and her hair is done up in sort of a loose bun.

  I forgot how Maddie looks fucking amazing with her hair up, letting her features stand out on their own.

  She’s walking in my direction, and I stay where I am. Kallie sidles toward me to make room for Madeline.

  “Not to harp on this, although that’s what I’m sort of here to do.”

  A grumbling rises from the men at the conference table. They’re all visibly uncomfortable right now, so I look back at Maddie.

  Maddie ponders the colorful mess on the whiteboard, and I can see the laughter in her eyes. She lets out the start of a laugh, but she stops it and clears her throat.

  Madeline turns to face the table directly and continues.

  “Gentlemen—and I’m sorry to exclude you, Ms. Fern, you weren’t here yet, but you’re welcome to stay now—anyway, if any of you gentlemen would please indulge the issues I’d like to bring up with your timing last July...”

  The grumbling restarts, louder than before.

  “That’s just the start,” Maddie continues. “There are a few irregularities going back—”

  “Please, Madeline,” Barrister interrupts. “Save your breath. None of us are going to discuss these matters in this setting.”

  The conference table grumble evolves, becoming self-righteous.

  “I guess we’ll have to pursue this some other way, then,” she responds quietly.

  “I guess so.” Barrister stands up smugly with his smug statement, and the rest of the table follows.

  I remain in my spot, watching the suddenly very quiet executives leave swiftly. I sense an air of uneasy victory as they walk by.

  Kallie gives Madeline a weird, seemingly meaningless look before walking out behind the executives, leaving her shit all over the floor.

  They do clear the room very efficiently.

  “What do you think?” Maddie asks once the room is empty.

  I think I enjoy the sound of her voice echoing lightly through the vacant boardroom, but that’s not the answer she’s looking for.

  “I don’t know.”

  I feel the heat of Maddie’s gorgeous eyes as she reads me for a long moment.

  “You really don’t know, Ethan. I believe it.”

  “What don’t I know?”

  “You don’t know how to get to a meeting on fucking time. I know that now.”

  “Oh? And what else?”

  Maddie takes a deliberate step in my direction, then another.

  “I don’t think I could tell right now.”

  “If it helps, we’ve got the place to ourselves.”

  “This room?”

  “This whole fucking suite of offices. It’s after five, and everyone’s on their way to the elevator at the very least.”

  “No one stays past five?”

  “Only me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  “Okay, let’s see this.”

  Despite my offer to show her, Maddie is first out the boardroom door, and I follow.

  Ethan

  I follow Madeline as closely as I can as she shoots out into the hallway.

  Five or six hours of unplanned sleep in the middle of the day is not something I typically enjoy, and it would usually leave me feeling pissed at myself and thrown off from my workday flow.

  Seeing Maddie wander out into the hallway, on her way to possibly leaving the building, is leaving me feeling nothing but remorse at possibly letting the chance to spend time with her just slip away.

  Okay, on top of that feeling, there’s also the feeling of wanting her so fucking bad—and now knowing consciously how much I’ve been missing her all week.

  “Holy shit, dude, you weren’t joking. It’s a fucking ghost town out here. Do y’all have teleporters or something us proles don’t know about?”

  “You’re a prole now?” I gallop up to Maddie’s side as she walks toward the reception area.

  “Compared
to you?”

  Maddie stops walking, and so do I. Before I can think about what’s happening or what I should do next, we’re facing each other.

  I get a few visual flashes—Maddie’s jade-green eyes, her full lips parting just slightly, as if she’s about to say something—but time slows down as we embrace and she pulls me into a long, slow kiss.

  “I swear everyone’s gone—I told you.” Our lips are still nearly touching, and I’m barely speaking above a whisper.

  “I don’t even fucking care.”

  Maddie smirks coquettishly as she moves back slowly, her hand pulling lightly on my tie before releasing it.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. Where should we go?”

  I point to the small dark green sofa by the reception area. As Maddie looks at it, I hurry over, ready to take a seat—and maybe lie down if that’s the way things go.

  As I’m getting ready to plop my ass down on the sofa, I feel Madeline grip my left shoulder tightly from behind. She keeps her grip as I turn around.

  “Catch me.”

  Maddie pushes down on my shoulder and launches herself in my direction.

  This is definitely not the type of office that’s seen to many team building exercises or anything like that, but this seems like a trust fall for the ages.

  For a beautiful moment, I picture falling onto the sofa under Maddie’s weight, the two of us collapsing into a blissful shape on the cushions.

  Maddie doesn’t quite leap like that, however. Her legs travel up toward my right side, and I wind up catching them in my arm, holding her upper half in my other arm so I’m carrying her like a bride on our wedding night.

  “Take me somewhere better than that couch,” she demands.

  Maddie has a point. I know that everybody’s gone, but there is a chance that an assistant or an intern forgot something, and they may decide to swing back to the office.

  We need a locked door—and my office doesn’t have a fucking lock.

  “I know just the place, Mrs. Barrett,” I announce.

  “Hey, you can carry me like this, but don’t get carried the fuck away yourself.”

  I start transporting Maddie in the direction of the boardroom.

  “Jeez, Eth, do you lift weights or something?”