TRICK INHALED the rich scent of coffee, hoping that if he breathed deeply enough, the smell alone would help him wake up.
He felt like a zombie, barely vertical. He’d slept most of Sunday, but it hadn’t been enough to make up for the week before. Mondays were scheduled for site visits, and Redden would be out of the office for most of the day, but it also meant Trick’s day started two hours earlier than usual. Early enough to give him time to get into the office, coffee in hand for his boss, and to gather together all the drawings and safety supplies he would need on site.
The coffee shop was already filled with men in suits and parents with strollers, bags under their eyes, trying to gather a shred of sanity before spending the day playdating.
Trick was sure he appeared much the same. He could feel the exhaustion leaking from his pores. He really needed a vacation.
He stood in line, waiting for the man in front of him to order his half-caf, no fat, no whip, extra hot, peppermint latte. When it was finally his turn, he stepped up and placed his order with the perky girl behind the counter. Her ponytail was even higher than her voice, and Trick wished he’d brought earplugs.
Trying not to bark at her, he told her what he wanted, paid for it, then trudged over to the counter to wait for his drinks to be made. Leaning against the bar, his eyes scanned the room and came to land on the guy standing in front of the espresso machine.
Edwin looked up at him and for a moment, Trick thought he must be hallucinating from lack of sleep. His eyes actually sparkled as he looked back at Trick.
“Hello,” he said pleasantly, a wide smile splitting his face, and Trick couldn’t help the smile of his own that formed at being the recipient of that look.
“Hey,” Trick replied. “So I guess I was wrong about you being a tourist.”
“Not entirely,” Edwin said, pouring what looked to be a latte into a paper cup. “I am now a resident of New York City, but the move was recent.”
“So I was half-right, then.”
“You were.” Edwin beamed.
“Where did you come from?” Trick asked.
Edwin paused a moment, picking up a spoon to hold back the foam as he poured someone’s latte. “Kansas.”
“That’s quite the move. How are you liking the city so far?” Trick asked despite himself. He should just shut the fuck up, grab his coffees, and get out, but since he was waiting anyway, he supposed a little light conversation never hurt anyone. Especially since he and Edwin were definitely more than strangers now.
It was tough to have a guy fall on top of you, then run into you twice, and still pretend not to know him. New Yorkers might not always be the friendliest bunch, but even Trick could manage small talk.
“I’ve only been here for a few days, but it’s unlike anywhere I’ve ever been.”
“Definitely different than Kansas, I guess.”
“Completely. I know geographically, the island is quite small, but it seems so large. I got lost coming to work this morning. I thought I would attempt the subway, but I took the wrong train and ended up in Mott Haven, apparently.”
“You ended up in the Bronx? That must have been an adventure. It does happen, though,” Trick assured him. He’d done the same thing once or twice himself when he’d been learning to use the subway system.
“That’s what the man at the Express Deli and Grocery told me before he showed me how to get back here. Since the distance is not too great, I believe walking will be a better option in the future.”
“Do you know anyone in town?”
“I’m staying with my uncle for now.”
“And he’s showing you around?”
“Well, no. His occupation requires most of his time, so he hasn’t had the opportunity to give me a tour.”
Trick thought about it for precisely three seconds before opening his dumb mouth. “I could show you around if you’d like.”
Edwin’s eyes lit up, and for a moment, Trick thought he was going to barrel around the counter and hug him.
“You’d do that?” he asked with barely contained excitement.
“Calm down,” Trick said. “I offered to give you a tour, not buy you a pony.”
Confusion flashed across Edwin’s face, but it was gone a second later as he burst into a bout of verbal diarrhea Trick was mostly sure was supposed to be gratitude.
Trick had known Edwin all of five minutes, but he could already tell he wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met. There was a lightness to him, almost a naïveté. The contrast between Edwin and the people he was about to spend his day with was staggering.
“When can we go?” Edwin asked, obviously eager.
“Tonight? I should be off at five. I can meet you here, if that works for you.”
“Tonight is perfect.”
“Okay,” Trick said, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.
WHEN REDDEN came barreling out of his office, his face an unbecoming shade of burgundy, Trick jumped in his seat, startled. His mind had been wandering, his imagination venturing into the nooks and crannies of the city, trying to decide where to take Edwin.
He remembered the first time he’d set foot into Manhattan, how overwhelming the sights—and smells—had been. With so much to explore, the majority of the visitors to the city missed out on some of the most amazing experiences. There was more to New York than Times Square and the Statue of Liberty.
“Patrick!” Redden bellowed.
“Yes, sir?”
“Where are the Harden drawings?”
Trick tried to hide his confusion, knowing it would only send his boss deeper into rage.
“Leif said he handed them over to you a week ago to send to engineering. Why aren’t they signed off?”
“There might have been a snag somewhere. I’ll look into it, sir,” Trick said, as convincingly calm as he could.
“Snag my ass. You’re a fucking moron who can’t get anything done on time. You’re the source of more headaches for me than anything else. Every day I regret offering to hire you. If it weren’t for your father—”
“I’m sorry, sir. Let me see what I can do.”
“If I don’t have them on my desk by the end of today, you’re going to be looking for a new job in the morning.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
He waited until Redden had disappeared back up the stairs. Trick could hear his angry footsteps through the ceiling, and the light fixture vibrated with the slamming of his office door.
Trick stood and walked quickly to Leif’s office, pushing the door open and stepping in without bothering to knock.
“Where are the drawings?”
Leif looked up from his phone, clearly pissed off that Trick was in his office. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, just walking in here?”
“Where are the drawings?” Trick demanded, ignoring Leif’s question.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His attention returned to his phone.
Trick crossed the room and stood over his desk, his palms planted flat on the wooden surface.
“The Harden drawings. They were supposed to go to the engineers and should have been back by now. Since you’re unable to do a thing by yourself, and I know I didn’t send them, I’m assuming they’re still sitting somewhere in this mess,” Trick said, gesturing to the haphazard pile of drawings and contracts that were strewn over the drafting desk against the far wall.
“How dare you speak to me like that, you little cocksucker. I have half a mind to drag my father in here and tell him how fucking far over the line you’ve stepped.”
“Go ahead,” Trick challenged. “You tell him exactly what I said to you and why. Because I am literally betting my job on the fact that I know you’ve done jack shit with those drawings.”
It was the first time Trick had really stood up to Leif, and it felt so good. Blood rushed through him, his heart racing.
Leif stood, his eyes narrowed as he apparently tried to look menacing. His expression was dark. He pointed to the drafting desk. “They’re over there somewhere. You find them.”
Trick started across the room. As he shuffled through the papers, looking for the drawings, he turned and addressed Leif over his shoulder. “You know those tickets to the Knicks game I got for you?”
“Yeah?”
“They’re no longer yours. I’m giving them to Dan Maldonado to make up for this rush job.”
Trick didn’t bother to look back to see Leif’s reaction. He simply found what he was looking for and walked out of the office, shoulders back and head held high.
THOSE SAME shoulders slumped, however, when he had to phone the engineer’s office and beg for a rush job on the drawings. Tabitha, Maldonado’s receptionist, loved Trick for some reason. He’d never understood why. When he phoned, he was usually in a foul mood, put there by something one of the twins had done. She was always sweet to him, though, digging his requests out of the bottom of the pile and moving them to the top of the list.
Thankful he had something to offer her by way of thanks, he explained the situation and that he’d couriered the drawings over just minutes before. He wanted her to know to expect them.
“Oh, sweetheart, you really need to get out of there. I could make some phone calls? See if anyone is looking for a junior architect?”
“Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to stick it out here. You and I both know Redden is an ass, but this place is in my blood. One day he’ll retire and I want to make sure I’m the one to take over the firm when he does, rather than his idiot kids. I’ve been a part of some of the most groundbreaking projects since I’ve worked here, and since both his sons are so inept, I’ve had a hand in a lot of them too.”
She giggled. “You should really think about forging out on your own. Redden would be so screwed if you quit.”
A slow smile spread across Trick’s face. He’d spent many afternoons daydreaming about that very thing—a firm that would blow Redden’s out of the water. It was a favorite fantasy of his, but ultimately, the thought of leaving the firm his father had worked so hard to build left him feeling empty.
“Maybe one day,” he lied, “but in the meantime, do you think you can help me with this?”
“I’ll see what I can do. Dan has been in meetings all morning, so I can’t guarantee I can get it back to you today, but I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks, Tabitha. You’re the greatest. Make sure you take a look inside the drawings before you pass them off to Mr. Maldonado. I threw something in there for you.”
“You’re a doll, Trick.”
“Really, it was the least I could do. You’re really saving me. Again.”
“I’ll shoot you an e-mail as soon as I’ve spoken to Dan and let you know when you can expect them back.”
Trick thanked her and hung up the phone, before tackling the next item on his list. When the e-mail from Tabitha came through a few minutes later, he held his breath as he clicked on it.
I’m so sorry, Trick, but the earliest he can have them done for you is tomorrow morning. I’ll rush courier them back to you as soon as they’re stamped and signed.
He exhaled, letting his breath out slowly. Redden had threatened to fire him before, and he never had. Trick had to hold on to hope that this time wouldn’t be different.
His heart hammered as he climbed the steps to Redden’s office. The palms of his hands were damp with sweat, and he felt like he might pass out at any moment. Knocking tentatively on the door, he waited for the bellow before he entered.
“What the fuck do you want?” Redden spat.
“I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I just wanted to keep you apprised of the situation with the Harden drawings.”
“What about them? Are they here?”
“No, sir. I’ve spoken with the engineering office. It seems there was a bit of a holdup and the earliest we can get them is tomorrow morning. They’re having them rush couriered over.”
The glare that was targeted at Trick almost bored a hole right through him. He’d seen Redden angry before, and after almost ten years with him, he’d gotten used to the constant yelling and cursing. This was new. This was quiet and calm, like a storm brewing. Trick held his breath and waited. He would beg to keep his job if it came to that.
“I need you to make a phone call for me,” Redden said, his voice eerily soft.
“Of course, sir.”
“I need you to phone the cleaning staff and give them the night off.”
Trick’s eyebrows knit together in confusion before Redden continued.
“I am tired of your constant incompetence. Apparently I need to teach you a lesson. You need to learn to clean up your messes, and so you’re going to clean the office tonight. All of it. Bathrooms, floors, windows, everything. Top to bottom. And when I get in here tomorrow morning, if this place isn’t spotless, you really will be fired.”
Trick swallowed hard but didn’t say anything. Cleaning the office by himself would take hours. He had no choice, though. If that’s how Redden wanted to punish him, he would have to bow his head and take it.
One day, he would take over this company, and he vowed to treat his employees with care and respect—to be everything Redden was not.