Office Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  Before I know it, we’re downtown, and I’m taking the glassy elevator up to HeronComm.

  I pass the creative team’s cave on my way in and stop. Mainly just to check in and make sure everyone’s still working. They look up and stare, a few people waving as I walk past.

  Damn. Are they that shocked I took a day off? Or does this have to do with Brina?

  At Ruby’s office, I pause and knock on the door.

  “Come in!” she calls.

  She looks at me like I’ve risen from the dead as I take the seat across from the desk. “Surprise, I’m back. Just for a few hours. How’d it go while I was out?”

  “It was a couple days, and a holiday at that. Sabrina remote-managed everything perfectly, but there wasn’t much to manage.” She pauses. “I was worried about you, Mag. I’ve worked here for twenty years. I think I deserve more than a cryptic text the first day you decide to skip work. You didn’t even do it after—”

  “I know,” I snap, then lower my voice. “Marissa Quail is in the hospital. I’m keeping Jordan at my place.”

  She’s quiet for a minute, her eyes huge.

  “Holy crap. Why are you whispering?”

  “I don’t want anyone else re-living the scandal that jackass caused. Morale around here doesn’t need to suffer. Besides, I know a few people were here when shit went down, but anyone who wasn’t here for it doesn’t need to know.”

  “You didn’t tell your EA?”

  I glower, hating how it hits me right between the eyes.

  “I told her enough. Brina knows he’s my brother, and my father had a hideous affair. I don’t think she needs to know more than that to do her job.”

  Ruby purses her lips. “Maybe not to do the job, but...what’s going on with you two?”

  “Excuse me?” I raise a brow, ice water in my veins.

  She stares into my eyes with raw sarcasm.

  “Seriously, you’re playing dumb? You should hear her. Every time someone says your name, she blushes. Look, I’m not some young chickadee.” She shrugs, twisting her gaudy red lips. “But I’ve been around the block enough times to know what that means—smitten.”

  It’s hard not to wince. That word is a slug to the gut.

  I think of Brina, blushing at my name, and can’t help the smirk that carves itself into my face.

  Ruby doesn’t need to say more. I get the message, loud and clear.

  Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

  “Don’t read too much into this. Her mom writes romance novels. Maybe she’s read one too many little red riding secretary and the big bad boss wolf books and has a little crush. So what? You’re the HR Director, not her counselor.”

  I stand up and stalk to the door, knowing her mouth is opening with a quip like a missile silo.

  “Or mine, Ruby,” I throw back. “So hold your thoughts. Do your job and kindly stay out of it.”

  * * *

  Sabrina strolls in from the airline prep meeting a couple hours later.

  If you think having had her under me would make me less of a wolf, less eager to see through her clothes to the soft contours of her body, you’d be dead wrong.

  She sees me through the frosted glass window between our offices, does a double take, and then waves. I hit a button under my desk and the glass clears its distortion—a cool electronic effect I had custom installed when my office was refurbished.

  With a clear view, I beckon her with my hand.

  She comes through my door, closing it behind her a second later.

  “I thought you were a ghost! I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

  “You think I could stand another day without working? Bah.” I pivot in my chair and smile. “Jordan’s at school so I figured I’d make the most of it.”

  She laughs. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “How’s the airline pitch going? Ready as it’ll ever be, I trust?”

  “The contract is printed and ready for them to sign. We’re confident we can seal the deal at the meeting.” Brina holds up the draft.

  I give her a high five.

  “Want to look everything over one more time? I sent you the full presentation, but I figured you’d be too busy to dive into it.”

  Old Mag would’ve said hell yes and began counting another digit in the company coffers.

  New Mag struggles to care about anything except shedding his assistant’s dress.

  “Nah. Let’s go for a walk through Millennium Park. It’s actually warm enough right now for a stroll without risking frostbite,” I tell her. “I’ll put my signature on it when we get back so it’s ready for Arrowpoint Airlines.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” She blinks slowly. “Wait. Why are we walking through the park again?”

  “It’s lunchtime. I’ll buy you a hot dog. They’ve got this new polar dog popup over there for winter.”

  “Polar dog popup? Are they serving polar bear meat?” She puts a hand on her hip. “You don’t strike me as a hot dog kinda guy.”

  “I’m not, but it seems like Brina food to me,” I say with a wink.

  “And what does that mean?” She holds up her hands. “Forget it. Don’t answer. You’re right. I love Vienna franks.”

  It’s the middle of a weekday in winter’s grip. The park isn’t packed like it would be during summer, but it isn’t empty either. We walk past the tourists taking selfies at the Bean, and head for the little food truck by the skeletal trees. I spot an area with no one else around, grab her hand, and move us toward a bench there.

  “Before we eat...I need to let you in on something,” I say just as she sits down.

  I stand, my nerves zinging.

  “Okay? What’s wrong?”

  “My father was our last CEO—”

  She waves a hand. “I know. Paige cyber-stalked you before I took the job to make sure it was legit and I wasn’t getting punked.”

  Of course. I huff out a breath, but it was fair game, wasn’t it?

  “Regardless, Jordan’s mother worked for him before he pressured her into bed. Their affair was toward the end of my stint in the Marines, when I only came home to see my mother before she died. When he found out she was pregnant, he fired her, and strong-armed her into signing a NDA. He tied her paltry severance pay to the contract with some child maintenance—something I doubt was even legal. I didn’t find out until much later...” I shake my head. “About eight years ago, I went into my dad’s office. Marissa was cowering in a corner, and my fuck of a dad was shaking a fist at her and screaming.”

  I hold my breath while Brina gasps. Her hands reach for mine, stroking my fingers so gently. I watch my breath smoking out into the cold air.

  “Mag, I’m sorry.”

  “I almost killed him on the spot. He kept saying she shouldn’t have had the ‘nerve’ to come back asking for more after he’d given her a settlement,” I say, my voice colder than the winter air.

  “Settlement for what?” Anger rises in her voice. “She was the victim.”

  “Yeah. It took me a minute to realize they were talking about a kid. My father had a secret child with his intern while my mom—his wife—fought cancer every day until it chewed her into nothing. And all he wanted to do was hide the truth from me, from the company, to cover his lying ass.”

  Her mouth forms an O.

  “I couldn’t take it. So I snapped, rushed over, broke his nose right in front of Marissa. She screamed and ran out of the office. I told the bastard to get the fuck out, effective immediately. I dragged him by the arm and got his blood all over my suit. Everyone in the office at the time saw it. I told him to leave HeronComm and leave Chicago, or I’d destroy his company, his house, everything.”

  “Jesus. How did you go from that to Marissa’s emergency contact?”

  “I followed up with her. I had to make sure she didn’t need anything. I’m glad I did, because she didn’t want to ask my dad for anything. Naturally, she hated him. She only came back to the office to co
nfront him because her house burned down. She barely made it out alive with Jordan, and he couldn’t even help them with fucking rent for his son. The more we talked, the more I realized she’d never been interested in my father. Later, I found out he threatened to fire her if she didn’t give in to his advances. He all but raped her while my mother was at home, dying, and I was off at war.”

  The color drains from her face.

  I hope she won’t be sick.

  “Oh, my gosh.” Brina covers her mouth with her hand.

  I’ve never discussed this shit with anyone. A few people at the office figured it out, but they know not to run their mouths.

  I don’t talk about my problems.

  I don’t show weakness.

  I don’t even know why I’m telling her this, or why Ruby’s comment felt like toothpicks under my nails.

  But when Sabrina stands and puts a hand on my face, I don’t flinch.

  “Mag, I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. Especially so young, barely out of the military. If I lost my mom, I don’t think I could handle it. If I found out my dad was cheating as she died, I’d probably kill him.”

  “If only I had,” I growl.

  “I’m proud of you for helping Marissa and Jordan.” She looks up, her eyes bright.

  “What else could I do? The way she was hunched in a corner, crying...I’ll never forget it as long as I live. My father savaged her, hurt her so bad she was hell-bent on doing everything herself. If it wasn’t for him, she might not be out cold in a hospital room right now. And knowing my goddamned dad...”

  “No. Don’t you dare beat yourself up, Magnus Heron. You stepped up where he didn’t for his mess, his crime. You’re taking care of Jordan and doing a good job.”

  “Thank you,” I say. “But I’m not taking care of everything I should—not if I’m anything like him.”

  I look at her slowly, wondering if she understands.

  The blank look on her face says no, she doesn’t.

  “We have to come clean, as soon as this is dealt with,” I whisper, my voice ragged. “I can’t hide what we’re doing. I’ll bring it to Ruby, you and I. I’ll find some way to do this by the book, ethically, and announce it to our staff. We have to be transparent. Leave nothing cracked for rumors.”

  She doesn’t remove the hand from my face. She just smiles so wide I feel warm, even in the frigid afternoon.

  Her hip touches mine, closing any space between us.

  “If you’re willing, of course,” I say. “I shouldn’t presume—”

  “You aren’t him, Mag. I promise you aren’t,” she cuts me off. “And if you’re saying you want to explore whatever this is? Of course I’m game. You’ve given me some of the best days of my life, and the worst, too. But even the bad times taught me so much. I want our whatever. I want us.”

  My heart damn near crashes through my ribs. I seize her hand, draw her leather glove off, and kiss the back of her fingers.

  Her giggle falls out like this strange music echoing across the snowy park.

  If I had to pick someone to tell my deepest, darkest secret, I’m glad it’s her.

  She’s the right person to tell. She belongs in my life. She makes my withered heart beat like it’s alive again.

  Hell, what am I doing settling for the back of her hand?

  Tugging her closer, I brush my lips on hers.

  “Let’s get the grub before I freeze my balls off,” I tell her, sliding my fingers through her hair. “But first, hang tight.”

  And just like that, I’m kissing my EA in broad daylight in the middle of Millennium Park.

  21

  Black Cat (Sabrina)

  I’ve fallen so far down the rabbit hole that the next few weeks pass by in a blur.

  Mag had Armstrong bring some clothes to his place, so I’m no longer doing the sex-hair walk of shame every morning. We sit around a massive wooden table Mag never used before with Jordan every night, and I’m at the office before the brothers are out of bed every morning.

  If you’d told me a few months ago I’d be swept up with some billionaire bad boy and his teenage ward, I’d have rolled my eyes and told you, not on your life.

  But I have to admit, it’s been a sweet, strange Wonderland.

  One lazy morning, on my way out, I stop at the kitchen to tell Mag goodbye.

  He beckons me in and I come, where he holds a cup of coffee in front of my face.

  I grab for it, and he moves it up higher and pulls it back, just out of my reach. Smirking the whole time, the dick.

  As I step closer, I laugh and reach for the coffee, lifting up on the balls of my feet.

  He seizes the opportunity to throw an arm around my back and pull me in.

  He kisses my forehead, and his lips turn up from a wise-ass smirk to a full-on smile. How freaking cute is he?

  “You’re taking the weekend off.” His voice is gruff and sexy. “The frontline data from the Arrowpoint Airlines campaign will still be in your inbox on Monday. You should be with me and Jordan. Right, J-man?”

  “I don’t care what she does,” Jordan calls from the living room. “Your nicknames are so frickin’ lame, Magnum.”

  I can’t help but laugh at how the kid turns his business moniker into the most uncool word in the universe.

  “I see he’s got your back,” I say, pulling at his collar and then smoothing it back into place.

  Mag kisses my cheek, then my lips, sweeping a hand down to my butt for a not-so-subtle squeeze.

  “Good help is hard to find, and your asshat boss requires your assistance at home. He’ll fire you, if you don’t assist,” he rumbles in my ear.

  “Bad news: I’ve figured out my asshat boss’ bark is worse than his bite, and he’d be lost without me.”

  Mag sets the coffee on the counter. His other arm closes around me.

  “Yes, he would. However, his beautiful pain-in-the-ass EA would be marooned without this.”

  He kisses me so freaking hard I melt on the spot.

  God. Some of the things he says makes my heart want to burst like a worn drum. I frame his face with my hands, bringing his lips to mine.

  All the better to give back what I get.

  First I devour his bottom lip, outside first, then move deeper until I hear his breath thicken. I taste his tongue and let out a sigh.

  He pulls away and leans down.

  “Save it for tonight.” He straightens up. “It’s almost Valentine’s, after all.”

  My face goes hot for so many reasons.

  The promise of a mind-blowing horizontal tango.

  The rush of so much teasing to come.

  The fact that I’m bedding my underwear model boss for V-day, and not sharing ice cream and wine with Paige in loveless solidarity.

  “Brina?” His voice is low.

  “Yes?”

  He whispers, so Jordan won’t hear, “It’s been over a month and I still love how you blush every damn time I hint what I’ll do to you.”

  He’s too good at this. My face feels like a glowing stove.

  “So that’s why you waste so much time on talk when you could just do it?” I tease.

  He snorts. “I did tell you not to leave.”

  I take a step back. I have to before I can’t.

  “Goodbye, Mag.” I stop near the door and blow him a kiss.

  “You’re still going into that damn office?” he growls, his brow falling in the most grumpalicious way ever.

  “I’m going to see Paige for a few hours, and then I’m coming back,” I say, trying not to add holy crap because he makes the office—previously his favorite place in the world—sound like a dungeon.

  His face brightens and he steps forward, handing me my coffee.

  “Don’t forget this. Have fun with Paige, sweetheart.”

  I take it. “I’ll be ho—back soon!”

  Uh-oh.

  I almost said home.

  I was t-minus two seconds from telling Magnus Heron I�
�d be home soon.

  He doesn’t seem to notice, but I sure do. The realization shakes me to my core the whole ride to my apartment.

  Paige is in the kitchen, drinking a Coke when Armstrong drops me off and I go in. She puts her drink down, throws her hands in the air, and screams, bounding over as she tugs on her hair.

  “What’s with you?” I ask, straightening before she bowls me over.

  “Oh my God. Oh-my-God!” She covers her mouth. “I’ve seen a ghost! My phantom roommate. Where the hell have you been? Do I need to book an appointment now if I want to see you? Is that how you roll now?”

  I’m about to tell her that’s crazy, but she’s right. She freaked out over text when I asked her to brunch, too.

  “Sorry. It definitely gets crazy filling in for Mag at work meetings, and it’s busier than usual.”

  “Wait—you’re covering for the CEO? I hope you got a pay raise. It’s a ginormous step up from EA to CEO.” She quirks an eyebrow. “You better dish, lady. You’ve been sending me nothing but crumbs for weeks. Not that I mind you paying last month’s rent for both of us, or having the extra space to work on my pretties without you around...”

  She steps aside, revealing a...thinking cat sculpture?

  It’s the only way I can describe it.

  A big chubby life-sized meower sits on its haunches, one paw held up human-like to its head, pondering the meaning of life—or maybe just what’s for dinner.

  “I see you’ve been busy,” I say flatly. “Glad you’ve taken up the mantle of crazy cat lady art, though, since I couldn’t carry the torch.”

  Paige walks over and rubs the statue’s head with a maniacal grin.

  Oof. I hope she’s not losing it for real since I started spending so much time away.

  “Enough about me. I want to hear about you and Heron,” she whips out, bouncing back over.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain, but I need carbs first.”

  “Italiano?” Paige asks.

  “Hell yes.”

  Half an hour later, we pull up to Mattarello’s Italiano.

  “We should invest in this place,” Paige says as we get out of the car. “Although we don’t come here as much as we should.”