Bossy Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Nicole Snow

  “Quit preaching and get to the point,” he snarls, straightening his crooked body with one hand on the sofa.

  “Here’s your payoff.” I hand him the envelope.

  He raises an eyebrow but takes it cautiously.

  “Don’t get too excited. It’s a one-way ticket to Kiribati. It’s a small island nation in the central Pacific and it’s the place you’re going to live out the rest of your days. I suggest you take it and don’t come back. That’s called generosity.”

  “Kiribati?” he spits it back at me like something rotten. “You can’t be serious, boy.”

  “I’m not finished. Your alternative is immediate arrest.”

  Again, that eye roll worthy of a sixteen-year-old rather than a man in his sixties.

  “You always were so dramatic,” he says with a sneer. “I’m not fucking going halfway around the world to some island exile to satisfy your ego. No deal. You can’t make me, kid.”

  “Can’t I?” I cock my head, staring him down until that vicious smirk he wears so well fades. “When you open that envelope, you’ll find a copy of a criminal report that’s been filed with the SEC. It involves a lot of illicit trades with a certain pharma company, plus a hint or two of your outstanding gains from funding a biker bar fifty miles up the highway. Apparently, it went down in a serious drug bust.”

  His eyes go wide and his lips open, but nothing comes out.

  “We found out everything, and you’re boned. Your bullshit cost me too much this time,” I say coldly, Paige’s face flashing in my mind.

  He cost me a gorgeous, whip-smart blond who loved me even when I couldn’t pour out emotions for her the way she did for me.

  “So, this trip to beautiful Kiribati isn’t so much exile as it is a head start,” I say. “The material we filed should be with a special agent in forty-eight hours. I hear they’ve gotten very good at hunting people down for your sort of trouble across international lines these days.”

  “You...you’re sick!” he sputters.

  “Sick? Maybe. I’d much rather pick the option where you’re busted right here, today, and I get to watch you rot in a cell with the occasional letter begging me for contraband cigarettes to trade.” I pause, leaning down and leering at him. “But I bought the plane ticket because Nick asked. It’s one less scandal for our company and the tabloids to eat up if you’re arrested quietly overseas in a few months, and Nick always was the softie. I don’t give a damn at this point.”

  My eyes bore into his as he takes a breath that rips the air.

  “Your choice, but fair warning. If I find out you aren’t on that plane—and there’s someone I’ve hired in Kiribati to make sure you show up—I’ll go straight to the FBI. My net worth is enough to have a decent life even if the company takes a hit over you throwing one more big fit.”

  “You’d let that happen to Brandt Ideas? You’d lose her fancy hotel? Bullshit!”

  I never flinch. “We’ll rebuild. The damage will be worth it to see you get what you deserve.”

  “You’re as vindictive as your mother!” he shrieks, his voice a strained octave too high.

  “Maybe, but between the RICO case and the biker bar’s drugs—”

  He stands. “Not the drugs again. The damn drugs were Parnell’s idea! That whole thing was his fault, and it ruined my life.”

  “Tell it to someone who cares. I’m sick of your excuses. If it was his fault, I think he paid the price. Your turn.”

  He stares like a scolded little boy wearing a bitter old man’s mask.

  “Man up and get the fuck over yourself. I’ve given you options. Kiribati or jail tomorrow.” I move to the door, grab the handle, and look back at the boneless heap on the sofa melting into the shadows. “Can’t wait to see what you decide, Dad. Ciao.”

  “How’d it go?” Nick asks the second I’m back in the Jeep.

  “I scared him shitless, so pretty well. He’ll leave. He knows I wasn’t bluffing this time. If the bastard stays, I’ll make good on that jail promise.”

  Nick pulls out of the parking lot. “Damn, this isn’t the way I wanted to visit Florida. Can we stop at my place? I want to unwind in the sunset.”

  “Sure. We’ve got time to kill. Gotta make sure he catches his flight tonight.”

  A short while later, we’re pulling up to the edge of the glittery sand where the land meets the sea.

  “By the way, I took care of my part before we ever left town,” Nick tells me with a sideways glance.

  “You did?”

  He nods. “This whole thing was my fault. I let Mom steal the itinerary right under my nose. I knew she’d gone too far this time. The package to Winthrope wouldn’t have been sent otherwise. You wouldn’t have turned back into a massive asshole—”

  “What do you mean back into a massive asshole? Imagine thinking I was one before.”

  He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head, hiding a grin as he scratches his chin.

  “No way that’s some big revelation. You know you’re Mr. Uptight incarnate, Wardhole.”

  Fuck, does that sting.

  It’s the first time I’ve heard that name since Paige slipped away—I mean, not counting the annoyed, harsh whispers behind my back every time I’ve been in the office ever since. She beat me to a pulp in the popularity contest.

  “Tell me one thing—have I always had this Wardhole affliction?” I ask with a sigh.

  “Nah, not always.” He nods and looks away, his green eyes lit in the evening sun. “I remember a time when you were happy.”

  “Let me guess, the stone age?” I roll my eyes. “Now this sounds like some sappy chick flick shit, Nicholas.”

  “It was recent.” He meets my gaze. “For a few crazy weeks behind all the stress, you were happy and you know it.”

  Damn him, I know what he’s implying, and I don’t want to talk about it.

  “Tell me how it went with Mother,” I grind out.

  “Shitty. I pulled no punches. I told her if she ever meddled in our lives again, or if I ever found out she was driving with a suspended license, it’d be jail time no matter how much time and money I had to spend on locking her up.”

  “Did you tell her Osprey wouldn’t even print the trash she sent? Bet it killed her to find out it was too much for that jagoff when the Tea was drumming them over Parnell nonstop.”

  “Yeah. She shrieked like a banshee and asked if you put me up to laying down the law. I told her we came to our own conclusions, and I was done hearing her excuses. So, if she wanted to try me, she damn well could but she’d be sitting in a cell by nightfall. She hung up when I said I wasn’t having your ruin on my conscience.”

  “My ruin? Last I checked, I’m still in one piece.”

  He’s always the dramatic one.

  Nick just shakes his head. “Whatever, dude. When do you think Grandma’s coming home?”

  “With two giant assholes out of the picture, probably soon. Can’t imagine her staying gone more than another week or two.”

  “Great. That’s when we get to the hard part, right?” he asks bitterly.

  “Hard part?”

  He sighs and I know exactly what he means.

  “We have to tell her the deal’s off, and it’s my fault,” I say, every word an icicle in the Florida sun.

  “It’s not all yours, Ward. I never should’ve let Mom in my office. My desk shouldn’t have been such a mess, and the file damn sure shouldn’t have been out in the open. What did you do? Besides scare off a pretty sweet girl, I mean.”

  Does he have to remind me?

  I fucked things up with Paige. Royally.

  That’s what I did and it’s enough for ten lifetimes.

  “Grandma emailed me last night, asking if I was going to stay engaged for real,” I whisper, watching my knuckles go bloodless as my fist closes. “She saw the latest photos from our final outings and said we looked so happy together.”

  “You did. And that’s my fault too. If I hadn’t been giv
ing you shit about marrying her, the conversation she overheard would’ve never happened,” he says quietly.

  Nick wasn’t the one who put the stupid shit I said in my mouth, though. The memories come at me like spinning knives.

  Paige drooling adorably on my pillow in her sleep, a mane of blond hair and strawberry-sweet whispers tucked in my arms. The corners of my lips turn up.

  Paige insisting I’m no broken, battered beast and kissing me like she meant it. I doubt she still thinks that now.

  Paige, on all the mornings we spent at my lakeside estate when she had my coffee ready, greeting me with a smile I’d take any day over her damnable barista cup messages.

  Paige, on all the gunmetal Chicago nights at my penthouse, when a single sticky kiss would become a tangled marathon in my bed, unbridled passion we were never too tired for.

  Paige, calling me Orion, when all I did with my caveman club was bludgeon her heart into ground beef.

  Yep, I’m a Grade A dumbass.

  The days with Paige in my office, my home, my life were the best lie I ever told.

  Because somewhere along the way, it became the living truth.

  Now, I’ve sunk my grandparents’ legacy because Winthrope will find out about our con one way or another. There’ll be no deal after that, not after he realizes I tossed away a woman I swore I lov—fuck.

  I stop short of thinking that word.

  “Ward?” Nick waves a hand in front of my face. “Ward, you home?”

  I blink slowly, my brows falling down.

  “Get out of my face,” I growl, pushing at his arm.

  “Shit, okay. You just looked like you were in a trance.”

  I shake my head. “I was thinking. You should try it sometime.”

  He’s quiet for a minute.

  “Earlier, when you said Dad cost you too much this time, did you mean Paige?”

  We’re going there again?

  “No. I meant Winthrope,” I lie.

  “Good, because I’m not sure you can pin the blame on Dad for that one.”

  What the hell?

  Of course, I can.

  He sent the dirt to Ross Winthrope with a little help from our weasel mother. I stare at my brother. Does he plan to elaborate or is he just being a jackass?

  “Obviously, our rift wasn’t caused by the package. Winthrope didn’t believe a word of it, and Osprey wouldn’t print it. Still, I knew they wouldn’t stop, and word would keep circulating until someone did believe it,” I tell him. “Paige would’ve been collateral damage.”

  It’s true. I may have hurt her, but if I’d let everything drag out, it could’ve been disastrous.

  His eyes narrow as he looks at me.

  “No...no, I don’t think so. She would have sworn it was no hoax—or that it only started as a sham. She wouldn’t have backed down, Ward. Hell, she’s the whole reason we got something on our parents, remember?”

  I wish I could deny how much her Enguard Security link helped us. Almost as much as I wish I could pretend I’m not missing her like hell.

  “She has guts. I’ll give you that, but why would I drag—”

  “Forget guts. She would have done anything for you. That evening on the balcony when you had a conniption fit, you were trying to convince you. Not me.”

  “Why would I try to convince myself I’m not the marrying type? You’re making no sense,” I snap.

  “Maybe not. But you’ve never had to declare it out in the open before.” He shrugs. “If you’re doing something stupid because you’re afraid you’re like Dad—”

  “I’m nothing like Dad.”

  “No, you’re not. That’s the whole point.” He turns toward the sinking red sun, this wizened look on his face that’s totally unlike my dumpster fire of a brother.

  I stare at him. Waiting.

  “What point, Nick?” I growl impatiently.

  “You don’t have to throw people you care about away to protect them. You’re not our parents.”

  “The whole thing was a contract, a show, and I didn’t throw anyone away.”

  Technically, it was worse. Paige left the moment she found out who I really am.

  “She ran because she heard what you said.”

  “Because it’s breaking news that I’m a cold-hearted freak? Did you forget the part where she locked us on the balcony and I had to kick my own door out?”

  “Man, if any girl I was with pulled that shit, I’d call someone with a key. Not bust out a door I’d have to replace.”

  I roll my eyes. “The only other moron with a key was there.”

  “Dude, I said I was sorry.” He gives me a sheepish look. “Hard to remember I had your backup key in my pocket when there was so much commotion. What did you say when you apologized?”

  “What makes you think I apologized?”

  “You said you didn’t want her to blow the cover on the NDA, but we both know why you really went after her. What did you say, Ward?”

  For a moment, I’m silent, having a staring contest with the sun.

  “What else? That I was sorry for the way it ended. I didn’t want things to implode like they did, and I thought we should still finish the contract. She didn’t want to hear it.”

  “She almost kicked you in the balls. You got off lucky.” He laughs like the eternal knucklehead he is.

  “I offered to pay her anyhow, you know. Even when she was hell-bent on leaving.”

  He looks at me slowly.

  “How did that go?”

  “She threw her ring and almost decapitated me with a look. I didn’t see that coming. I told her when I gave it to her it was a gift, and she could keep it once this was over. I thought she’d sell it.”

  “She might’ve been serious about the restraining order after all. I’m starting to get why you’ve only ever had a couple girlfriends,” he says, scratching his jaw.

  I glare at him.

  “I have no desire to fuck my way through half the city like you, idiot.”

  “I know. You were engaged to your last girl, but Paige is the first chick you’ve lost sleep over in years.”

  “I haven’t lost sleep over her,” I hurl back.

  He lets out a long huff that says he’s entirely done with my shit.

  “I’ve known you for thirty years. You’re a dick when you’re angry and an even bigger one when you’re tired. Don’t try to lie to me. You’ve been unbearable since it happened,” he growls, wagging a finger in my face.

  I chop his wrist down, annoyed that we’re still bickering like we’re ten years old. He brings out the worst in me—or maybe he’s right and it’s not his dumb antics at all.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass into the ocean right now, Nick.”

  “Because we don’t have an assistant anymore and you need me. Reese doesn’t do coffee runs. Also, Grandma’s still on vacation, and you can’t afford for me to be out in a coma.”

  He can take his good reasons and shove them somewhere darker than this sunny beach.

  “Any word on when HR might get us some fresh blood, anyway?” he asks.

  “Susan posted the job. When enough applications come through, we’ll start interviews.”

  Those simple, mundane words shouldn’t taste like a toilet brush. But they do, and it’s all because she’s lodged in my brain, the woman I can never replace in a billion interviews.

  The green-eyed pearl I lost who saw meaning in my stars, and now with nobody there to see them, my whole world is getting dimmer, colder, and it’s about to hitch a karma ride to hell.

  This has to be the very definition of self-destruction, but here we go.

  It has to be done.

  Winthrope’s going to find out the truth sooner or later with Paige gone, and it’s better coming from me. There’s also no denying it’s the right thing to do.

  With a double shot gulp of brandy, I set the glass on the desk and begin my confession.

  Dear Mr. Winthrope,

&n
bsp; You’ve been so kind to my family that this email is hard to write, but I know it’s the right thing to do.

  I once again appreciate you bringing the nefarious packet regarding my relationship with Paige Holly to my attention. While the package was sent maliciously, it’s partly my fault it happened.

  Brandt Ideas produces beautiful and functional designs. It always executes its contracts with nothing less than the very best quality and professionalism. With you, I regret to say I failed to live up to our lofty standards.

  I read your hesitation to continue working with me after my grandmother’s heart event as a lack of trust. I feared you felt that my brother and I weren’t prepared to handle your needs.

  We brainstormed ways to look more impressive, and decided a looming marriage would make me look like a grown-up.

  Paige was my warm, outgoing executive assistant. She has an art degree and a keen interest in architecture. She’s also beautiful, smart, and likes to spar with me—at least she did.

  She was the obvious choice for a fake engagement.

  I paid her to play the part under an NDA. The goal was to convince you I was responsible enough to secure a contract for your Chicago jewel.

  The events of the last few weeks with my family have been horrific, but somewhere in all the noise, I found the truth.

  My intentions were less than honorable, and I’m deeply sorry.

  I also understand if you no longer wish to do business with us. I wouldn’t want to do business with someone I couldn’t trust either.

  However, the love you saw in my eyes on your yacht that day—the reason you assumed the package was fake—was a bigger truth. How could I not fall in love with her?

  Not for the sake of a phony engagement, but for real.

  My grandparents always dreamed of designing a Winthrope hotel. Grandma considered it her crowning achievement, and it was the last great dream of my grandfather. I thought immortalizing their legacy was the most important thing in my life.