Page 5 of The Grand Duel

“Thanks.” The delivery lady dips out of the office before I can fully lift the pen off her pad.

I place the flowers down on Edna’s desk and spy the card nestled in the middle.

“Lovely Ed—” I read aloud. “Huh. What an ass.”

I bet he’ssorry.

“I made a pot of tea instead—oh, Luna!”

I turn at the commotion, my brows lifting when a tiny golden spaniel puppy barrels into the door frame, beating Edna to the office. It shuffles its bottom into the small room, excitedly bouncing on small paws until it backs into a plant pot and knocks it over.

“Oh Christ.” Edna places the tray down as the puppy jumps at me, laddering my tights. “Luna, out. I’m so sorry,” she says to me, flustered.

“It’s okay.” I chuckle. “Hello.” I rub behind the puppy’s ears.

“No, it’s not. It’s—oh, Dais, not you as well!”

A second puppy, identical to the first, comes bounding into the room. “Two of them?” I say with glee.

Edna looks about ready to explode.

“They belong to Mr Aldridge. I’m so sorry about this.” She tries to grab their collars, but they spin, bouncing around as if it’s a game. “Luna!”

The puppy barks.

Bending, she reaches out and scoops up the smaller of the two. “Gosh, you’re a handful, girls.”

It’s not until a laugh slips past my lips that I realise how wide my smile is. I bend and pick up the other puppy, just about managing to hold it in my arms. “You had flowers delivered,” I tell Edna, nodding towards the arrangement as my cheeks ache.

She rolls her eyes and steps over the fallen plant pot. “Impeccable timing, Mr Aldridge,” she mutters. “Do you mind?”she asks, eyeing the door. “They have a room of their own to play in.”

The dogs have a playroom?

I follow her down the corridor to a room three times the size of Edna’s office. “Wow.”

“A couple of princesses is what they are.”

I snigger, placing the dog down as I take in the space. When I turn back to Edna, she’s using her hand to fan her face, her hair is slightly dishevelled, and I’m pretty sure she has some kind of dribble on her jumper.

And in this moment, regardless of being jobless, purseless, homeless—technically—and having my favourite pair of heels broken, I can tell Edna is having a worse day than I am. Maybe.

“Edna,” I say to her, and she glances over at me. “Did you have anything a little stronger?”

She shakes her head, tears brimming her eyes, maybe a little at a loss. And then she laughs. “I have a really nice bottle of Frerejean Frères in the fridge that we planned to open if the case went the way we wanted today.”

I grin and nod.

“What’s the story with the dogs?” I ask as I drain a third glass of champagne. It’s nice. Vintage. At least the owner has good taste in his champagne.

And employees.

Ed is a babe.

She chuckles softly from her spot on the floor beside me. “I’m pretty sure Mr Aldridge is having a midlife crisis.”

I snigger and stroke the head of the puppy lying in my lap. Daisy is her name. “They’re cute. That one is a little…”

My head dips to my shoulder as the puppy’s muzzle gets wedged in the toe of my discarded, broken heel. She shakes herhead until she frees herself, sneezes, and then pounces on top of it.