Page 19 of I Won't Be In On Monday

"What is going on in this new world?" His voice is husky. "Is it like Narnia?"

"Not at all. She's hidden in a closet in an old castle, and she sees a dragon killing a knight."

"A knight. Ooh, like Lancelot in Merlin?"

"Kind of, but not necessarily Lancelot."

"I know. I didn't mean Lancelot himself, but I mean like the Knights of the Round Table."

"I'm not sure yet. I guess I haven't given it that much thought. I don't know. Anyway, she sees him killing this knight, and she gasps, and the dragon speaks and is like, 'Who is in my presence?'" I speak in a deep, growly voice, and I notice that Remington's eyes crinkle at my imitation.

"Go on," he says, sounding like he really is interested in hearing more.

"Anyway, the dragon looks towards this closet where she's hiding, and he's about to breathe fire when a door opens and in walks this prince, who calls the dragon out and says, 'We have to be on our way. They're coming.' So, the dragon runs out, and the girl lets out a deep sigh. She thinks that she's safe, but then the closet door opens, and this gorgeous prince is standing there. And he stares at her and says, 'If I have to save your life again, it won't be saved.'"

"Dang, I guess he's not Prince Charming. Then what happens?"

"Then the prince leaves, and she's just standing there. She almost pees her pants, obviously, because who wouldn't in such a situation?"

"Yeah. I mean, I would certainly almost pee my pants if a dragon was about to fry me to death, and then a dark prince opens the door and says if he has to save my life again, I will be dead."

"Yeah." I laugh. "It's intense."

"Intense is a good word." He nods. "So the Prince leaves or…?"

"Well, I haven’t gotten any further in the story than that," I say, laughing.

"No, don't say that." He groans. "So, do you know what’s going to happen next, or...?"

"I'm not 100 percent sure. I’m still working on it.” I grin. “But you like the idea?”

“I love it.” He nods. “It sounds pretty damn amazing to me.”

“Thank you.” I grin at him, pleased at his compliment. I’m glad I’m here, even if cleaning out this room is not my ideal activity for a Saturday morning. "You're nice when you're not in the office."

"You're saying I'm not nice when I'm in the office?"

"I'm saying that it's not like this, but I mean, obviously, that's because we're working and in a different environment."

"That doesn't mean that I can't be nice to you." He gazes at me. "I guess I can make more of an effort, especially now that I see how helpful you are."

"I guess." I grin as my phone starts ringing. I see it's my dad and know I have to take it. "Hey, do you mind if I take this real quick?"

"Not at all," he says, shaking his head. "You can head into the living room if you want some privacy. Feel free to help yourself to a drink in the fridge."

"Thank you," I say as I answer the phone and head out of the room. "Hey, Dad," I whisper. "What's going on?"

"I'm so disappointed," he says in a low voice, and immediately, my stomach drops. Here comes the guilt trip.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

"I had all these plans for us for today."

"Dad, my boss called me in. He really needed my help. I can come over tomorrow. I promise."

"I guess if you actually think you can make it tomorrow."

"Dad, I know you're not putting me on a guilt trip because I have to work."

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