Bossy Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Nicole Snow

  Ouch.

  I shudder, suddenly offended, even if it’s hilariously absurd.

  On top of everything else he’s done, all the games he’s played with me, the very notion of pretending to be engaged to me is a death sentence?

  I look him dead in the eye.

  “Newsflash: ‘You two’ didn’t come up with that asinine idea. Your brother did. No worries, Ward. I would throw myself off a high-rise into Lake Michigan before I’d ever pretend to be desperate enough to marry a man like you.”

  “Feisty. See? She’s cute when she’s mad, she’s brilliant, and she’s got backbone,” Nick says, nodding firmly. “Good wife material.”

  Ward groans, dragging a hand across his face. He doesn’t even acknowledge what I’ve said, just glares at his brother.

  “Hey, chucklefuck. In case you didn’t notice, I’m not in the mood for jokes today. I’m ten seconds from breaking your jaw.”

  “Wonder why,” Nick mutters.

  They stare each other down, having some brawl with their eyes I’m not privy to.

  “Tell you what. When you prove this is a bad idea, I’ll give you a better one.” Nick tosses his half-empty water bottle in the air and catches it with a dramatic flourish.

  “You’ve lost your goddamned mind,” Ward snaps, pacing back to his desk and reaching for the phone.

  “Who are you calling?” Nick asks.

  “Grandma. I need someone to back me up on having you committed.” With another bearish sigh, he slams the phone back into its cradle.

  “Screw you, dude,” Nick flings back. “She’s obviously comfortable telling you what she thinks, and you two bicker like you’re already married and sick of it. Everyone would believe it. Just sayin’.”

  Big yikes.

  I can’t decide whether to be offended at the ugly truth or mortified at his logic...

  ...especially when said logic makes enough sense to raise the hair on my neck.

  Silence engulfs the room again.

  With a switch of my hips, I walk out, escaping before Ward has a chance to dismiss me.

  After this meeting disaster, I’ll be damned if I give either Brandt brother the opportunity.

  I pour a glass of wine and flop down on the couch.

  What even are the last few weeks of my life?

  What will I ever be to my boss in his constantly evolving, ever hateful, and totally annoying image?

  Before Beatrice collapsed in her office, I was still a drunken idiot he deigned to rescue.

  At the hospital, I was an angel whose potentially broken neck he was worried sick over, and a woman who was good enough to kiss like he wanted to carry me off on horseback.

  The next day, business as usual.

  The mortal enemies kind.

  And of all the outlandish, half-cocked suggestions for Nick to come up with, I still can’t believe it was me faking an engagement to the Warden. But Ward’s shoot-first reaction was too much.

  I take a long sip of wine, a sweet porter that feels like my only escape from the hell called this job, this life.

  I just want to sleep.

  At least I shocked the crap out of the boss before I left his office. He hasn’t called, texted, or emailed since. Must be too much to ask for.

  I text Brina. Hey, fun news. Brandt Ideas is about to lose a massive deal because Beatrice Nightingale Brandt retired. Apparently, reputation matters, and her grandsons are in deep doo-doo. So deep we flirted with the office caveman faking an engagement to me.

  LOL. Whose idea was that? Brina asks.

  Nick’s, I send back, adding, Dudette. Ward’s reaction was instant 'roid rage rejection. You just had to be there.

  The walls are closing in, Brina. It’s not just all the stress at work, or the fake fiancé nonstarter. It just...it reminded me of Austin.

  My eyes sting with a force I didn’t know that stupid idiot and his bad memories could still muster.

  Brina replies, It’s not the same! Don’t go down that rabbit hole, girl. Why did it make you think of Austin?

  I don’t know, but I do.

  I know what it’s like to be used, played with, and tossed away like a cold pizza crust.

  But Brina doesn’t know Ward tongued me into a kiss-happy coma. I don’t even have words for that story yet.

  Especially the part where he came back into his grandmother’s hospital room, slid my feet into those fluffy shoes, looked into my eyes like I was Cinderella, and said “No broken necks today, princess.”

  And I kind of swooned.

  Okay, I really swooned.

  That’s why today, weeks later, I feel like a total idiot.

  Fool me twice? I’m a girl who’s had her heart pounded into gravel. She should’ve been immune to a mindless flirt and a blazing kiss from her monster boss.

  Why? Why did I open myself to more pain?

  Maybe it wasn’t Ward’s usual trash that’s left me reeling.

  Maybe it’s my own baggage.

  My phone buzzes with a new text from Brina. You like him. Fess up.

  Ugh.

  No! Not in this lifetime. Catch me in the next, I punch back.

  Paige Holly, don’t lie. You’ve got an office crush and you’re a crappy liar. If you didn’t have an office crush, it wouldn’t have reminded you of Austin, and it’s not like you guys even met at the office, so...bet you a thousand bucks he feels the same way. She sends a winking emoji.

  Brina, shut up.

  I tongue the roof of my mouth, denying it to myself more than to her. My phone pings again.

  The dumb fake fiancé scheme was Nick’s idea, right? Not Ward’s. It probably won’t come up again. Just forget about it. Unless you’re hoping he changes his mind, I mean, so you can be Mrs. Brandt someday. This time her emoji has its tongue out.

  No way and you know it!

  Then just forget it, she sends. Never happened. Don’t you dare waste another second thinking about that Austin prick either.

  Too late.

  Mentally, I’m already back in the biggest humiliation of my life.

  Years Ago

  At a frat luau, junior year, Brina and I stand on the sidelines making fun of our drunken classmates.

  A topless blond boy in swim trunks with cobalt-blue eyes walks up to us and gazes into my soul. “Your friend’s straight fire. Can I get her name?”

  I grin at Brina. “Brina. Want her number?”

  “Shut up!” Brina swats me with both hands.

  Shirtless Blond Boy tucks an errant hair behind my ear. “I was talking about you.”

  My heart jumps. My chest tightens. I can’t speak.

  “Her name’s Paige. Need her number?” Brina asks with a lopsided grin.

  His eyes never leave mine. “I’d rather go somewhere we can talk. Let her give me her number when she wants me to have it.”

  Oh my God! All the blood rushes to my head. He holds his hand out.

  I clasp it.

  Then he leads me to a creek a few blocks from campus.

  We talk until three a.m. He walks me home like a perfect gentleman and says he hates for the night to end, promising to walk with me to class in the morning.

  I never really expect him to show the next day.

  I’m used to gorgeous guys coming out of nowhere to talk big and then ghosting into thin air. But I open the door to leave for class a few hours later, and there he is.

  “You weren’t going to wait for me, hot stuff,” he accuses.

  I grin. “I didn’t think you would show.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. “Frat boys have a bad rep for a reason.”

  “Heh, yeah, no denying that.” He nods and scratches awkwardly at his neck.

  But I chose to go into denial that morning, falling for Austin Gifford.

  We were inseparable from that moment on.

  Flash forward a year. His parents own a cabin in Sturgeon Bay. A bunch of us decided to drive up for spring break for one last rowdy, dreamy getaway
that every Midwestern college kid needs at least once.

  I can’t sleep our first night there, so I stand on the balcony overlooking the lake. It’s a quiet night with the stars dancing across the still waters like silver beads.

  Austin and his friend Tanner are downstairs drinking. They must be on their second case of beer, if not something harder, their laughter rising with the pitch of their voices.

  I snicker quietly. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, but it just sorta happens by default when their drunk voices carry.

  “Your girl’s hot as hell, man!” Tanner says, clinking a glass bottle against another loudly.

  Austin laughs. “She’s fuck-hot in bed, too. You have no idea.”

  I grimace, but a tiny part of me flushes with delight.

  “So? When are you gonna put a ring on her? You’re graduating, dude. She’ll have you replaced in a heartbeat if you dick around,” Tanner says.

  I smile into the night, shaking my head.

  Austin can’t possibly be replaced. A part of me hopes the ring is coming soon enough.

  Only if it’s his idea, of course.

  We’ve talked about our future. He told me he’d stay in town after he graduated, because he doesn’t want anything to come between us. That was the first night we made love.

  “It’s not like that,” Austin says quietly.

  Oh? I stiffen. What does he mean?

  We’d talked about it all the time. He’d propose my senior year, and we’d get married after I graduated.

  Tanner coughs, waiting with barely more patience than my own thrumming heart.

  My breath stalls. My ears strain, trying not to miss a word.

  Tanner chuckles. “What’s it like then, my man? Tell me.”

  “Well, I’ve got a badass job lined up with a top real estate firm. I’m thinking it’s time to trade up. I’ve got my eye on the broker’s daughter. She’s hotter than Paige and we’ve been texting for a couple weeks.”

  Clapping a hand over my mouth so I don’t give myself away, I choke on darkness and heartache.

  I want to die.

  The entire starry sky suddenly feels too small, too cramped, too suffocating.

  I need to flee.

  But I just had the wind knocked out of me. It takes a minute to move, and even then I can’t tear myself away from his quiet assassination.

  “Shit. You’re serious, huh? You’ve already met her then?” Tanner asks.

  “Sure. She’s our age, but she graduated early. She’s in law school, and she told me she doesn’t date college boys. She said I could talk to her when I had a real job, but you know how it goes.”

  Silence.

  Tears start cascading down my cheeks.

  “Surprise them. Tell them they’re really something special. Fuck them senseless. Move on to the next,” Austin says with a vicious laugh. “Women are so predictable, man.”

  “I guess,” Tanner agrees awkwardly. “Straight to the point. But you’re sure about this?”

  “Fuck yeah. Her old man owns the brokerage and he’s hiring. Win-win. I’ll have the deal sealed in more ways than one. Give me a couple months.”

  Enough.

  Somehow, I stagger back into my room and cry until I can’t. I think I fall asleep around five a.m.

  I was a fucking placeholder until something—someone—better came along.

  A few hours later, Austin nibbles on my neck.

  My eyes snap open and hot fury jolts up my spine. My legs move on instinct, crashing a knee straight into his balls as I roll over.

  “What the fuck!” he roars, falling out of bed. Still tangled in the sheet, he flashes me an angry look. “Paige?”

  “Go call the broker’s daughter,” I snap, locking the door the instant he’s gone.

  I pack my crap, rent a car, and drive back to school, swearing I’ll never make my heart a target for cruel little boys again.

  It was the last time we ever spoke.

  The last night I stupidly let myself believe in love.

  Present

  He used and abused me.

  Placeholder Paige, the girl who was never good enough to marry.

  I drown the rest of my tears in another glass of port. Yes, I’m allowing myself a second glass tonight, thank you.

  Brina’s right. This is different.

  Because boss-zilla and I have no relationship at all outside the office. The infamous museum rescue doesn’t count.

  Also, I don’t have feelings for him.

  I don’t.

  He’s just a hot, complicated man who hits some switch in my head when he barks orders all day and throws me a rare bone or two of kindness.

  His cold indifference makes his true feelings crystal clear.

  Mark my words, I’m never, ever faking anything with him even if he changes his mind.

  I’m not anyone’s pretty little plaything, I send to Brina absentmindedly. Def not Ward Brandt’s.

  Brina replies, Umm. I thought Ward shot the idea down?

  He did, I text back, grinding my teeth.

  Sooo why are we talking about it? You’re rabbit holing, aren’t you?

  Staring at her text, a deflated sigh seeps out of me. I don’t respond, just grab the wine bottle.

  I’m risking a real hangover tonight for good reason.

  I just wish three little glasses could compete with what Ward flipping Brandt does to me.

  10

  Perfect Illusions (Ward)

  I sip from the double shot espresso on my desk.

  Dark, bitter, and scalding hot, just the way I like it. I didn’t expect to find coffee on my desk this morning after the way my asshole mouth ran her off.

  It makes me regret turning my fire on the wrong person even more.

  The person I should’ve massacred walks through the door.

  “Do you ever work?” I bite off.

  Nick shuts the door behind him and levels a stare. “Find a fake fiancée.”

  “This crap again? Excuse me if I fail to see how another broken engagement helps me seem less like a walking dipshit.”

  “Ward, Maria didn’t break up with you for reasons that had anything to do with you, and you know it. It was a family matter.”

  Even if he’s right, this conversation is officially stupid.

  “Her reasoning had everything to do with me. Our parents are a fucking death wish. She’s practically royalty. How could you blame her for ditching out after the Parnell incident and Dad’s tirade?” The words come out strangled.

  Nick’s face hardens. “We had nothing to do with that. We were kids for God’s sake.”

  “Whatever. I know, you know, and Grandma knows. But it’s the kind of thing that follows you for life. I can’t blame her for not wanting to tarnish her whole family for my sake, even if it busted me up at the time.”

  My pulse slows, an anger and despair I pretend I’m over steaming my blood.

  “If she loved you, she would have stuck it out,” Nick says firmly. I hate it like hell when he tries to be nice. “But I’ve never understood why her broken promise makes you a womanizing bachelor anyhow.”

  “Her parents weren’t monsters. That’s the difference between being a Duchessny versus a Brandt.” I shrug. “Besides, I didn’t handle the break up well. I almost assaulted that kid from the tabloid when he got in my face yipping questions. That’s probably where the ‘womanizing’ comes from. Osprey’s revenge for shitting on one of his people.”

  “He’s a hundred-foot dick. And I don’t mean that as a compliment,” Nick laughs.

  “Doesn’t matter. You need to drop the fake fiancée plan and come back to earth. Paige hasn’t been this pissed at me in weeks.” I pinch my jaw, wondering if my progress toward having a normal EA was an illusion or not before my brother’s idiocy intervened.

  “I think she was more upset about your reaction to enlisting her. But it doesn’t have to be Paige. I just said Paige, because she’s beautiful, crazy smart, and you guys clearly hav
e a—”

  “She’s our assistant!” I roar. “End of story.”

  “Nah, you left out some details. We can trust her, she’s available, and it’s believable with you. Roland Birdshit and his teacup boys would probably eat it right up. People have seen you together before.”

  “Yeah, at work. Once the fake engagement ends, I’d look even worse. A man who seduces his assistant, then leaves her before the wedding?” I snort, slashing my hand through the air. “Ridiculous.”

  Nick leans over to peer through my frosted glass door, drumming his fingers against his thigh.

  He glances back at me. “Obviously, it’s your choice, bro. She’s just too perfect to pass up, the kind of chick you should be dating. If you ever dated, I mean.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Ass.”

  “It’s not anything against you. It’s just—”

  “Don’t you have work to do, Nicholas? Don’t you ever?” If I have to hear him describe Paige in all her wonderful perfection one more time, I might just pick him up and chuck him out of my office.

  “Ward, no one’s going to have work for long if we don’t figure this out. If Paige repulses you so much, find a sugar baby or something. There’s a price for everything, and always somebody willing to pay it.”

  Damn him, I never said Paige was repulsive.

  Quite the opposite, and it’s a mammoth goddamned problem.

  “A woman that hard up for money won’t play well. And what do you mean no one will have work without this deal?” I growl. “We did big dollars in projects without a Winthrope centerpiece last year. No reason we can’t do it again this year.”

  “I hope,” he says quietly, his eyes darkening. “When word gets out that Grandma retired in the middle of a project and it made Ross Winthrope choose another firm over us...what do you think happens next? That’s not losing out on a little success. That’s a hit.”

  Fuck. I don’t have a counterargument.

  “Most people probably won’t even connect the dots,” I say weakly.

  “Maybe. But if I were looking to build a multimillion-dollar property, I’d make it my business to know the ins and outs of every firm, right?”