Bossy Romance: Single Dad BWWM (Billionaire Dads)

NOVA

“You should drink something.” A bottle of water magically appears in front of me.

“Should you be back here right now? It’s almost time for your presentation.”

Tan knuckles rap against the table. “No arguing. You’ve been on your feet for three hours straight and I haven’t seen you take a sip of anything. I’m not moving from here until you hydrate, darlin’.”

I roll my eyes—privately—before grabbing the water and glancing up at my boss, Adam Harrison.

‘Drop-dead gorgeous’ is a phrase that’s been thrown around to describe him, so I feel comfortable using the term.

Objectively, of course.

Adam is tall, with broad shoulders, big brown eyes, a chiseled jawline, dark hair that’s a little curly, and a warm smile that’s never far from his face. As usual, he’s wearing a tight T-shirt with his pecs straining against the cotton. Jeans and his favorite cowboy boots complete the look.

His vivid brown eyes find mine and linger, waiting until I’ve finished with the water before he takes it and returns the cap.

He’s been working hard lately. I can tell by the dark circles under his eyes. Even looking a little more tired than usual, he’s still every bit the hunky country boy-next-door.

Realizing that I’m staring, I avert my gaze and try to get my thoughts back in order.

Adam grabs a napkin and swipes it against my bottom lip. “So messy.”

My heart does a little pitter-patter.

I move my head back. “You should be out front.”

“In a minute.” Adam sits on the edge of the table, his back muscles rolling like well-oiled drums. The light from the stage creeps into the private room, throwing his profile into shadows.

“You okay?” I ask.

“I’m trying to dial back on my excitement. If I go on a tangent, that won’t be good for anyone.”

“Just do what we practiced. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s a given.” He leans toward me and cocks his head to the side. “You’re way more intimidating than any of those judges.”

He smiles and I…

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I keep getting shocked by how attractive my boss is.

I never used to notice. At least, not in a way that I’d find distracting.

Of course I’ve always known Adam Harrison was gorgeous.

Based on social cues alone, it was pretty cut-and-dry. Women batting their lashes, hands clinging to his biceps, voices turning high-pitched and giggling—there’s so much giggling whenever Adam opens his mouth.

Again. Understandable. That Southern drawl of his is more dangerous than a snake charmer.

I know my boss is gorgeous.

I know.

But it’s been bothering me how that knowledge keeps affecting me more and more.

Applause breaks out from the crowd. I turn my head toward the conference room, slip my feet back into my pumps and rise.

Adam stands with me. “I guess I’m up next.”

“Do you have—”

“The presentation notes organized according to your cute little color-coded system? Yes.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the index card binders that I like to use. “Right here. In fact, I re-organized them last night to make the flow better.”

I narrow my eyes. Is he getting cheeky? “I see you didn’t need my help.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

I look at him for a few seconds. “What do you have planned?”

“Nothing.”

He so does.

I sigh because he’s the boss and it doesn’t really matter. Whatever he announces, I can make it work. “Remember to—”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” he says, his gaze intent on mine.

My chest rises and falls on a shaky breath. I’m nervous for him. Not because I think he’ll fail but because I know how much doing well means to him.

Without another word, I jut my chin at the door.

Adam grabs a lanyard from the table, slides it over his head and strides confidently toward the lights of the main room. I stay back a few minutes and then follow in the same direction.

Vision Tech banners are strung all around the conference room, proudly proclaiming the company sponsorship. This is the first round of the competition and the excitement is high.

Long tables hold the most unique and cutting-edge inventions of the year. Holo-boards reveal summaries of the devices as well as the headshots of up-and-coming inventors.

Adam is already at his table. The cameras are pointed at him, sending footage of his face to the giant screen on the stage.

He looks calm and confident in front of the cameras. It’s baffling why he refuses to do a single magazine photoshoot or interview. Not only would it boost exposure for Vision Tech, but he would be an ace at it.

“One of the issues we found when creating the MTB,” Adam says, pointing to the headband device that allows deaf music students to ‘experience’ the vibration of an instrument, “is battery life. The technology of our time still has severe restrictions on energy usage. Sorry to that little bunny, but after a while, energy dies out.”

Chuckles break through the room.

A camera flashes.

They’re eating this up.

Adam’s brown eyes slide over the crowd. “Although we settled on removable batteries, I felt intense dissatisfaction. There had to be another way to improve the energy source. I just had to find it.”

The other inventors start bobbing their heads. They’re all driven by that primal sense of wanting more, knowing there’s a different way, a better way to do something, and fighting tirelessly to make that vision in their heads a reality.

Working with Adam forced me to appreciate a person’s ‘charge into the unknown’ spirit. Even if that run-first, figure-it-out-later mentality is why so many inventors are broke.

“That’s why I went back to the drawing board and created the world’s smallest, self-sustaining, non-nuclear battery.”

Oohs break out in the room.

I don’t even bat an eyelash.

“What’s unique about this battery is that it’s powered by movement.” Adam lifts the invention to show it off. “And you might say that kinetic batteries have been around for a while, but I would remind you that there’s a reason they haven’t taken off yet. The amount of kinetic energy a human body alone can create is not enough to power a calculator. Unless you can find a way to harness and multiply that energy.”

Another round of ‘oohs’ break out.

I glance at the judges. They’re leaning forward, salivating, eager to pounce from their elevated podiums and get their hands on Adam’s invention.

He has them in the palm of his hand.

One of the judges talks into the microphone. “Why does your invention force people to become physically active? Why make the recharging method so inconvenient?”

A crinkle appears above Adam’s nose.

He’d been anticipating this question.

“I believe that technology should make our lives better in all ways. Which is why the battery has a mode that functions as normal and one that encourages movement. In other words, if you want to charge it, you don’t have to move. However, recharging with movement is the angle we’re going to push because that’s the part that saves lives.”

Applause breaks out.

People are nodding.

Adam’s lips curl up. He’s trying so hard to be humble, but it’s difficult for a man that brilliant to pull it off.

Walking to the left, Adam picks up a water bottle and takes a sip. His eyes find mine in the crowd and he gives me a little smirk.

My heart tightens. I dip my chin in response.

Adam whirls around to face the judges. It’s time for his closing statements.

To my surprise, he doesn’t say anything more about the batteries. “I thought it was a little boring to only present these batteries to you today.” He reaches under the table and lifts a bag.

I immediately tip my chin to the ceiling and sigh in annoyance.

He did not.

“This is a hover-bag.” Adam proudly gestures to it. “Powered by the batteries, it hovers above the ground, making transportation a breeze. It can hold up to a hundred pounds of weight and can be stored anywhere.” His eyes are glittering in that—well, I call it the ‘Mad Hatter’ way. “Imagine you’re at the airport and you’re trying to drag all these heavy bags behind you. With the hover-bag, it’s as easy as dragging a basket of flowers.”

The crowd seems just as confused as I am.

No one says a word.

Adam grins broadly, glancing around for encouragement before finally pointing his smile at me.

I pull my lips in and shake my head.

He doesn’t look disappointed by the restrained reception at all. Clamping his hands together, he announces, “Any questions?”

A bunch of hands go up.

I retreat from the room to prepare for the next segment of the convention. The inventors will enjoy champagne, network, chat and wait for the judges to make their decision.

In the background, I hear Adam droning on about his hover-bag.

Laughter builds in my chest, but I have no idea if it’s rooted in amusement or utter despair.

What am I going to do with you, Adam?

“Courtney, Henry,” I motion to the two Vision Tech interns, “help me set these tables so catering can bring out the refreshments.”

They hurry to follow me and whisper to each other.

“Are all inventors that eccentric?” Henry, a young, college-aged guy who’s interning at Vision Tech, mumbles. He wears his hair in a high afro that reminds me of Will Smith in Fresh Prince.

I take out my index cards and flip through them, listening keenly to the conversation while I triple check my to-do list.

“That guy wins the competition every year.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Sometimes, his inventions are genius. And sometimes,” Courtney shakes her long blond hair out of her face, “they’re just stupid.”

“Stupid?”

Courtney glances around as if she’s scared someone will overhear. “This one time, he invented a spinning knife, fork and spoon. Like… you just press a button and a different utensil pops out.”

Henry’s eyes widen. “But that’s kind of cool though.”

“Cool?” Courtney scoffs. “People have been using separate utensils for ages. Inventing another tool to eat with is a total waste of time.”

I step in between them to brush out the table cloth. “If it had served a market, then it would have been worth the fuss. The problem is that some of his inventions are commercially viable and others…”

Mentally calculating the surface of the table, I realize that we’ll need more room. Thankfully, I’m always prepared for the unexpected.

“Henry, can you bring a few more tables from the storage closet?”

Henry walks off and returns with the tables. He sets it up just in time for the caterers.

I’m too busy running back and forth between the floor crew, the caterers and the management team to keep track of Adam.

It’s not until someone taps me on the shoulder that I anticipate coming face-to-face with my boss.

Except it’s someone else.

“You’re the owner of Vision Tech, right?” A man with greying hair and a pleasant smile motions to me.

“No, I’m not the owner.” Although I’ve been mistaken as such many times.

“The face then? Whenever I see Vision Tech at these things, I’d see you.”

“And who exactly is it that’s been spying on me?” I arch an eyebrow.

He pulls out a business card. “How impolite of me. Leroy Foster.”

I check his card. “Yoon Technologies. You work with renewable energy.”

“As well-informed as you are beautiful, I see.” He laughs gently. “You’re familiar with our work?”

“You’ve managed to consume most of the commercial market share in renewable energy and natural resources. I was beginning to think of you as competition.”

“There goes my opportunity to wow you with our company slogan.”

My lips curl up. “Are you here to scout out our inventors?”

“I heard a rumor that Mr. Harrison’s recent invention would have something to do with self-sustaining batteries. I couldn’t resist.” His eyes twinkle. “Vision Tech throws these conventions just to scoop up the best inventors before the rest of us have a chance. I was determined to get ahead of the game.”

My smile blooms a bit more.

Adam walks up to us. His grin is intact, but his eyes are carefully assessing when he sticks a hand out to Leroy. “Hey, man.”

“Mr. Harrison,” Leroy takes the outstretched hand, “we were just talking about you and your brilliant invention.”

“The hover-bag?”

I keep my face intact but, inside, I snort a little.

Leroy’s eyes dart to me and back. “Uh, no. The self-sustaining kinetic batteries.”

“They’re just a little something I threw together,” Adam says flippantly.

Leroy gets that shocked look again as if he can’t decide if Adam is joking.

He’s not.

The man can solve complicated problems before breakfast and then spend all his time coming up with fanciful inventions until midnight.

“Mr. Foster,” I gesture to Leroy, “is the CEO of Yoon Technologies, a leader in non-nuclear renewable energy.”

“Ah.” Adam dips his chin, but he doesn’t look that impressed.

Leroy lets out nervous laughter and flashes a business card. “I would love to discuss a research position at our company. I might not be able to match Miss Delaney in beauty, but I can promise you amazing benefits and all the creative freedom you want.”

“If you can’t even match Miss Delaney’s beauty, then why would I want to work with you?” Adam asks.

I furrow my brow and subtly jab him in the stomach.

Adam makes a pained sound and then covers it with a cough.

I smile politely. “Mr. Foster, it’s about time for the judges to make their announcement. Why don’t I escort you to the front?”

“I’ll come with you.” Adam sticks close as I lead the way into the atrium.

A few moments later, the MC makes the announcement and the rest of the contestants file in to hear what we all knew—Adam is the winner.

I applaud politely and oversee the doling out of prizes from behind the scenes. The moment the ceremony is over, I call the event company in charge of the after-party.

I’m on that call when Adam finds me again. The conference room is completely empty, the lights shut off and most of the inventions cleared out.

I lift a finger, asking Adam for a moment, and he nods.

“Please make sure no reporters sneak into the after-party. Last year, our latest invention was almost plastered on the front page news. We can’t have that again.”

“Understood, Ms. Delaney.”

“Thank you.” I pocket my phone and glance at Adam who has a glass of champagne in each hand.

He extends one of the drinks to me. “Non-alcoholic. I checked.”

My fingers wrap around the cold glass and I smile slightly. “Are you donating your prize to the children’s home again?”

“Yes.” He thinks about it and then adds, “I’ll match the prize money. Sister Clarence mentioned they needed a new van to get the kids to school.”

I lift my phone and tap out a note.

Adam never keeps his prize money. In fact, he almost acts like it’s dirty.

I wish I could share this side of him with the world, but my boss’s generosity is another thing he keeps under wraps.

“You didn’t seem all that excited about my little surprise,” Adam says, noting my expression.

“Vision Tech isn’t in the business of creating suitcases.”

He laughs. “Hover-bags, Nova. Hover-bags. It’s the next big thing.”

“Is this one of those situations where I’m expected to humor you or can I be honest and remind you that nobody is asking you to reinvent the wheel.”

His eyes glimmer. “People don’t know what they want until you give it to them.”

“That applies to what they don’t want too, you know. Sometimes, it takes getting something to realize you don’t want that thing at all.”

“Pessimist.”

“Feel free to lead the marketing campaigns if you’re so confident.”

He scowls. “You play dirty.”

“I’ll get you in front of the camera one way or another, Harrison.” I take a sip of the champagne. It’s bubbly in my throat. “You can’t hide who you are forever.”

“As long as I have you, I’m not worried about anything.”

A strange, strangling sensation fills me.

I glance down. “It’s your business, even if I’m running it.”

“Nova, I’d prefer to participate in these competitions every year than own the business. You know that.”

My smile is strained. I finish off the rest of the champagne. “I saw you talking to the second-place winners. You found our newest engineers?”

“Their robotic arm was brilliant.”

I shake my head. “You have a serious thing for robot arms.”

“They’re cool. What else can I say?”

“I liked them too. I’ll offer them positions on Monday and have their lab ready by Wednesday.”

“A private lab? You must really like them,” Adam says with a grin.

“Medical technology is a booming industry. We need legs in a commercially viable market, especially when our brave and bold leader starts skipping down rabbit holes.”

Adam coughs. “Now you’re just being mean.”

My phone vibrates. I glance down with a smile on my face, but the smile disappears and my entire body goes stiff when I see who’s calling.

Lyra.

“Who is it?” Adam asks.

My fingers close over the phone and I turn it so he can’t see the screen. “No one. I’ll head out now.”

“Come with me. I’ll take you to the after-party.”

“If the contestants see us together—”

“Their first thought will be that I own the company? That’s a big leap.”

I shake my head delicately. “I’m not going to the after-party.”

Adam looks stricken. “Why not? Are you not feeling well?” He moves as if he’ll put his hand on my forehead.

I jump back on instinct.

Adam freezes.

My heart pounding, I drum up a polite smile. “There’s something I have to take care of. Something… private.”

His eyes flash with an emotion I can’t name, but he hides it quickly. Flashing me the charming grin that I’ve seen melt women into literal goo, he nods. “Sure. You worked hard, Nova.”

I dip my head and hustle out of the building, calling Lyra back.

She answers with a yawn. “Hey, big siiiis. Ready to talk?”

“Where are you?” I ask stiffly.

She gives me directions and I catch a cab to the café.

Lyra is sitting around a booth, eating a burger and a giant plate of fries. She’s got her hair closely cropped with the back full of waves. The top is spiky and dyed red and white. Giant hoop earrings with the term ‘goochie’ in the middle swing along with her head.

“Nova!” She raises a hand and yells so loudly the entire café turns to look. “Girl, over here!”

I cringe a little and slide into the booth across from her.

“Mm.” She gives me a head-to-toe scan while sucking on each of her fingers. “Don’t you look tidy and official. Like those old ladies at the church mama forced us to go to. Remember? The ones with the big hats and the pressed white skirts and the pantyhose… wait a minute. Let me see if you’re wearing a pantyhose.” She scoots down like a worm and peeps under the table.

I pull my legs back and cross them at the ankles.

“You are!” She bursts out in loud guffaws.

More eyes dart over to us.

Heat flares in my cheeks and I press my fingers together.

“You look like such a square, Nova.” Lyra grabs three fries at once, dips them into ketchup and pops them into her mouth. When she’s done, she wipes her fingers on her cleavage-baring halter top that looks like she fished it out of the trash.

“I sent you all the money I could,” I say calmly, holding my head up. “If you’re here for—”

“It’s not enough.”

My eyelashes flutter.

Lyra takes a sip of her soda and talks with her mouth full. “But I ain’t worried ‘bout that. Can you get me a job?”

“A job?” I choke.

“Yeah. A job at your fancy office. Your boss left the whole thing for you to run, right? I’m sure he won’t have a problem.”

My nostrils flare, but I keep my tone calm. “What is this about, Lyra? Since when were you interested in engineering?”

“I ain’t gotta do that.” She speaks with exaggerated head-bobbing. “I can be a secretary or sum’im. Like you.”

That feeling I’ve been having lately—like there’s a noose around my neck and it’s pulling tight, increases. I take a deep breath and then another. “I’m sorry, Lyra. I can’t help you.”

“It’s because you’re ashamed of me, ain’t it?” Her eyebrows slash low over stormy brown eyes. “You don’t want anyone to know we’re sisters.” She points an accusing finger. “You think if you talk perfect English and dress like the white folks, they’re gonna accept you? Nah, fam. At the end of the day, blood is thicka than anything.”

I lift my eyes to the window and think about my to-do-list.

Leroy Foster wants to set up a meeting with Vision Tech to cement future collaborations.

The top-ten winners from the competition today will receive free access to parts and equipment for next year’s competition. I need to talk to the manufacturing companies to oversee that process.

Adam has a meeting with the board and, if he plans on pitching the hover-bag, I need to prep the board for that. They rarely welcome his outlandish ideas with open arms…

Lyra taps a long, triangle-shaped nail on the table. “Hello? Are you listening to me?”

I blink slowly and my sister comes back into focus.

Lyra flings herself against the booth. She’s slim and athletic. Her skin is pure brown and most of it is on display, including her chest which is jiggling generously. “Are you going to get me the job or not?”

“I can help you get a job at another company. Not Vision Tech.”

“Why not?” Lyra whines.

I grab my purse and rise steadily. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Lyra, but I’ve helped you as much as I can. Don’t call me again unless it’s an emergency.”

“Sell-out,” she spits under her breath.

Prickles of anger skate up my skin, but I step around the table and catch a cab home.

On the ride, I unbutton my blouse and press my face against the cool glass of the window.

The pulling at my throat keeps getting worse.

The noose is tightening. Tightening. Tightening.

And seeing Jax leaning against my door when I get home twenty minutes later only makes the pressure worse.

“Did we have a date tonight?” I ask him, noticing the flowers and the bottle of wine in his grip.

It’s a rhetorical question. I wouldn’t have forgotten a date. It would have gone into my calendar and I would have had several reminders on my phone.

Plus, I wouldn’t have scheduled a date with Jax on the day of the convention.

“No.” Jax saunters toward me, his smile bright against his dark-chocolate face. He’s wearing a pressed navy suit, bright red tie and shiny loafers, “But I wanted to surprise you.”

Color me surprised.

“Can I come in?” Jax motions to my door.

I think about shooing him away, but I realize I shouldn’t be stand-offish. I promised myself that I would be more open to love this time.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Jax and I’ve looked. Trust me. If there’s anything I can do, it’s sniff out the flaws in men. But Jax is a genuinely good guy with a good job and family values. Plus he’s tall and handsome. Basically everything I could want in a man.

And it’s not like I’m getting any younger.

I let him into my apartment and kick off my heels. He glances around, looking impressed by the open floor plan, the sleek, minimalist furniture, and the sprawling kitchen that I hardly use.

“I’m going to change and be right back,” I tell him.

He nods.

I slip into my bedroom and close the door, leaning against it to catch my breath.

Be present in the moment, Nova.

As I take off each of my clothes, I shed thoughts of Lyra, the company and everything else from my mind. One by one, I lay them in the hamper and pull on a fresh T-shirt.

I’m feeling a lot more peaceful when I return to Jax.

He’s sitting in the living room, his tie loose and his eyes dewy and brown. I know exactly what he has in mind before he even opens his mouth.

“Wine?” he asks, gesturing to the coffee table. I notice he went ahead and took my wine glasses.

“You know I don’t drink, Jax.”

“Come on. Just one glass.”

Don’t overthink this, Nova.

We’ve been meeting for about six months now, texting each other when we have the time and going out occasionally. It’s not like he’s a stranger.

Jax hands me a glass and, when our fingers brush, I’m reminded of the moment when Adam handed me champagne.

Shaking my head, I take a sip and relax into the sofa.

“Long day?” Jax asks.

I nod.

He eases closer to me. “Me too. We’ll have to take our case to trial. The boss is on my back about it.”

I make a sound of consolation.

Jax rubs my shoulder, his thumb caressing the sleeve of my T-shirt. “Today, when I was exhausted and irritated, all I could think about was you. What’s Nova doing tonight? I wonder if she’d be up for dinner.”

My lips curve up. I drain the rest of the wine.

Jax takes the empty glass from me with a pleased smile as if I’m a child who just took all their medicine. He closes the distance between us and kisses me slowly. At first, the only parts of us that are touching are our lips.

And then his hands rise to my face and he caresses my cheek while his kiss gets rougher.

My heart starts beating fast, but I tell myself I’m enjoying this. This is great. I’m having a wonderful time with a wonderful man.

Jax grazes his fingers under the back of my head, cupping my long braids. I’m starting to feel extremely hot, but it’s not in the way I think I’m supposed to—the kind of heat where I want to get out of my clothes or want him out of his.

This is the kind of heat where I want to get out of my own skin, out of my own head. Like I’m being burned, my feet dragged through a fire that I can’t see.

As Jax’s kisses become less controlled, his hands find the hem of his shirt. He pauses long enough to yank the shirt over his head, but that brief moment of disconnect makes me feel better.

I don’t have time to seek out why that is before he’s on top of me again, his kiss more intense and his hands dragging off my jeans and panties.

Suddenly, it’s all getting very real, very fast.

Jax lowers his head and kisses his way down my thighs. I squirm away, a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

He glances up, his eyes full of eagerness. “Baby, don’t worry. I brought protection.”

Of course he did.

He came over to my apartment with roses and wine… and condoms.

Because he’d already decided that tonight was the night. He’d invested six months and now it was time to reap the return on his investment.

I don’t know why that annoys me.

Jax pushes me into the sofa, his weight smothering me. “Relax, Nova.”

The instruction is followed by a kiss to my mouth and a caress of my thigh. His touch is invasive.

Discomfort boils in my gut.

I don’t know why Jax groping me makes me want to go take a bath and apologize to…

Apologize to whom?

I gulp in air, but the more I inhale, the harder it is to breathe.

Hands reaching for his naked shoulders, I push Jax off and quickly step into my panties.

He gives me a confused expression, his eyes dazed. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” I grab my pants and pull those on too. They’re stretchy yoga pants, although I don’t do yoga at all.

Jax’s lips turn firm. Brown eyes narrowing until he’s squinting at my TV, he grumbles, “Are you not into me?”

“No, I think you’re great, but…” I cover my torso with my hands, trembling.

“They warned me about you,” Jax mutters, shaking his head and laughing bitterly. “They told me you had this weird relationship with one of your inventors.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Harrison.” His eyes lift and he points an accusing gaze on me. “I heard you two are close.”

“Close?” I blink rapidly.

“Are you two screwing?”

My heart drops to my toes. The mere suggestion is… it’s… insane.

“You know what? Forget this? I don’t need this at all.” Jax roughly grabs his shirt, his car keys and his flowers. A short second later, my front door slams shut.

Silence.

I stare at the place where the flowers had been and then I ease forward, grab the wine he left behind and drink it straight from the bottle. Minutes later, I throw my guts up in the bathroom. As if I needed more proof that liquor and I don’t mix.

When I’m finished, I sink against the toilet. My fingers come up to massage my throat. The noose around my neck is starting to ease, not because anything’s truly changed but because Jax’s words shook something loose from my heart.

I think I might know why I’ve felt so trapped lately.

And I think I might know a way to be free.