One Bossy Date: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bossy Seattle Suits)

It’s four a.m. and I’m wide the fuck awake.

I don’t sleep much these days, even with a lump of sausage dog piled at my feet, blissfully snoring.

Tonight, I can’t even dream of rest.

Not when Pippa left me that voicemail, offering help I don’t deserve. I can’t drag her deeper into this clusterfuck.

I’m lost in my own head when my phone lights up, blaring its ringtone. The name on the screen feels like an acid facial.

Let’s get this over with.

“Yeah?” I answer.

“Where are you?” Gramps demands.

“It’s four o’clock in the morning here. I’m at home.”

“You should be asleep and resting up for the conference later today. You have an early flight to Portland,” he says firmly.

It’s so absurd I could split myself in two laughing.

“That’s a joke, right?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“I resigned, Gramps. Surely you saw the email by now?”

“Son, your resignation is not accepted under any circumstances.”

I pull the phone back and stare in disbelief.

“What do you mean ‘not accepted?’ You can’t force me to work for you!”

“No, but I can ask you to, and I’m your grandfather. You’d be an ingrate to turn me down.”

I roll my shoulders, feeling my bones creak.

Has he lost his ever-loving mind?

“Gramps, why? Why the hell would you want me to stay on after what happened? I’m damaged goods. I’m more use to you taking the fall so you can start fresh with a brand-new executive officer.”

“Pointless, considering I have a splendid CEO and replacing him this close to the convention is simply impractical,” he says. “You know how much I believe in second chances. When Ward Brandt concocted his little fake marriage scheme with his assistant to win our business—and found himself a real wife along the way—we stuck with him. Once he came clean, of course.”

I roll my eyes.

The shit Brandt went through isn’t even in the same universe as this train wreck.

“Whether I stay or not, there’s no point in attending the convention this year. I’ll give you the notes right now—we lost. A humiliating defeat.”

“That may be, but we’re not going to turn tail and run, now are we? We’re Winthropes. We have more dignity.”

“So, you want me to go and take the beating for your ego?” I grind out.

“Versus hiding away and pickling your liver? Yes, I do, broccoli boy. You and I both know you’ve survived worse.”

Dammit, he’s right.

If I survived a flaming wreck and being sewn back together, and then a showdown with mobsters where nobody but Fyo had my back, I should be able to handle this.

“Fine. If it’s that important to you to have a presence at the conference, I’ll go, but I’m still resigning when it’s over,” I say.

“Why? Give me one good reason.”

“I failed, Gramps. Pretty damned spectacularly. You don’t get the company smacked with fifty million dollars in damages and counting and just brush that off as a learning lesson,” I growl.

I’m expecting denial. A lecture. Another pep talk.

Instead, he just laughs.

What the hell ever.

If I’d watched someone else flame out as horribly as I have, I might laugh too, but Gramps breaking into a full-on belly fit catches me off guard.

“I did the best I could. I’m no good to you as a laughingstock,” I say.

He laughs harder. “Oh, my dear boy. I didn’t raise a loser, but you have me worried I might have a quitter on my hands.”

My blood heats and my brows pull down.

“I’m no quitter.”

“Then prove it. Don’t resign. For the record, I talked to the board, and even with the wreckage, they’re not keen on new leadership. We all need you.”

Fuck. Way to corner me.

“You don’t care that I’m running your legacy into the ground?”

“Mistakes happen—even disastrous ones. Imagine if Churchill quit after Dunkirk! Brock, this is your moment. The one where you take a good, long look in the mirror and decide if you’re ready to be a man.”

Shit.

Have I ever mentioned how hard it is having a grandfather who’s never short on inspiration?

“Gramps, a mistake is when you order a gin and tonic and someone gives you a vodka. Our reviews died on my watch. I failed to stop corporate sabotage. Then a hundred people got seriously ill at the event of the year in our own backyard. What happened wasn’t a mistake. It was negligence.”

“Still waiting for a sound reason. You can’t just throw in the towel because you’ve had an ugly run of it. What could you have done differently?”

That question knifes me in the gut.

“Hired Piper Renee sooner to save our asses,” I say glumly.

“That’s a start. So you know you need top talent. You also need more firepower in public relations, and a proper team to handle this other problem.”

He has a point, but I needed that months ago.

Now, it’s barely a tourniquet, even if I’ll absolutely settle score with Apollo Finch my way.

“I should’ve known that before everything caught fire, Gramps. The fact that I didn’t—”

“Means you’re a human being,” he finishes roughly. “And you’re a fine human being, too. This, however, is your darkest hour, waiting for you to shine—and I don’t just mean with the company. I’ll loan you the British team over next week. You Yanks are too damn passive.”

I should thank him and prepare to have my ego beat down. But before I can do anything, he speaks again.

“You know, when I took over what became Winthrope, it was a droll, second-rate chain. We existed in three countries, and the old buildings were twenty years outdated. Do you know how I turned it around?”

“No, but I guess you’ll enlighten me.”

“I went to some blasted hotel conference in the States where this man swore he could tell me how to turn my chain into multimillion profits. While I was there, I met this adorable American girl. She was going to be mine if it was the last thing I did. Back then, girls didn’t have a lot of options. They married well or they suffered. When your grandmother agreed to wear my ring, I swore I wouldn’t have her suffer. I had to give her the world, and I did. My hotels became the best in the world because my wife deserved nothing less. That’s not to say I didn’t muck things up along the way—I did—but I had a fire in my soul. I trust you’ll find yours soon. Both of them.”

“Both?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that your woes are inseparable?”

“What? You’re talking about…?” I stop, refusing to say her name.

I can’t fucking believe we’re having this conversation.

He sighs like a teacher answering the same question for the tenth time.

“Get your girl back, son. Your head’s not on straight without her.”

“If you know about Piper, then you also must know we’re not together. Not anymore,” I mutter.

“Yes, that’s rather easy when your grandma has spies everywhere cupid is concerned,” he tells me.

Of course.

“For the record, I didn’t make a mistake with Piper. I was trying to protect her.”

The old man chuckles. “Well, sometimes it’s best to be more subtle about protecting a woman than treating her like a windup toy. They’re not always appreciative.”

Tell me about it.

“You’ve made your case already,” I growl. “Fine. I’ll go to the conference and take the beating so no one else does. You’re right. Real leaders absorb the arrows—all of them—and tomorrow I’ll start undoing the damage. As for Piper, that’s different.”

He pauses and clears his throat.

“I don’t know if this helps, Brock, but your grandmother broke up with me three times before we were married. I always knew I was going to marry her, but I’d planned on a long engagement. When I nearly lost her, I cut it in half, because I figured once we were married, it would be harder for her to dump me.”

“Oh, please. He proposed three times before I accepted. He begged me to marry him,” Grandma cuts in.

“How long have you been on the line? I told you to stay off,” Gramps says.

For the first time in ages, I laugh.

They’ve been married for over fifty years, and they still bicker on an international call.

“I’m going to get ready for my beating while you two settle this,” I say.

“How are you winning her back?” Grandma asks. “You’d better not let me down. I need to meet my great-grandchildren before I shuffle off my mortal coil. Who knows how much longer I have left!”

“I’ll let you know once I’m done being sneered at and ridiculed as the proud CEO of the luxury chain that comes in last place,” I growl.

“And I’m the grandmother of a man who knows it’s harder to stand up after you’ve been knocked flat than to keep on running when you’ve never fallen. There should be an award for that,” she says matter-of-factly. “Since there isn’t, I’ll accept you coming out of this happily married and less inclined to work yourself into an early grave.”

“Enough with the death talk, Grandma. Have a good day,” I say, disconnecting the call.

Christ, that was brutal.

It was also the kick in the teeth I needed.

Nothing will ever numb this gaping loss, but talking to my grandparents helps. I get up to let Andy out, then clean up and stuff myself into a plain black suit. I’m about to head out for a real coffee before I go deal with the sneering insults behind my back when my phone buzzes.

Keenan: BIG news. It might even make you less of a crankyface.

Brock: What news?

Keenan: Miss Piper Renee plans to attend the conference with Jennifer Landers in Portland despite the fact that she’s been gone for weeks. Should I reactivate her security credentials?

My breath turns to cement in my lungs.

Piper’s coming?

Tonight?

To the same slaughterhouse?

My jaw tightens.

She might just be hanging out with Miss Landers. I shouldn’t expect much, but it’s still a chance, even if it’s the most miserable odds I could ever imagine.

Still.

I’ll hunt her down and find out where we stand.

If she’s really over me, I’ll leave her alone, but I need to hear it face-to-face.

I grin like the desperate idiot I am and text back, Yes. Let her in.

Then I remember Piper loves vests and says I look good in silver.

I change suits and text Keenan on my way to the car. Do we know why she’s coming? Does she want her job back?

For a second, the urge to call her skins me alive. But if I have a chance to see her again in the flesh, I’ll take it. Anything we have to talk about will be infinitely more powerful in person.

Keenan: Sorry. I didn’t speak to Piper. Jenn just asked if she could come. I told her I needed to clear it with you, but expected it would be okay.

Brock: Piper is cleared for anything she wants. Ever. What would you say to a woman who hasn’t spoken to you in weeks?

Keenan: How the hell should I know?

Fair enough.

As I climb into the SUV, my phone buzzes again.

Keenan: You could try an apology. With chocolate?

I snort loudly.

Brock: Where the hell do I get chocolate this early in the morning?

Keenan: See if the hotel gift shop is open. If not, you’ll just have to use your sterling personality.

I groan before I text back.

Brock: Why do I feel like that isn’t enough?

Keenan: Because Brock Winthrope is an acquired taste, but if anyone’s got a craving, it’s her.

Maybe that fourth cup of coffee was a bad idea.

I can’t stop moving now, so I walk up and down the aisle of chairs in the ballroom, ignoring the dirty looks and whispers I can hear behind my back.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe he showed his face!” someone hisses.

I throw a nasty look over my shoulder. But why bother?

My name was fated to be mud the second I walked in.

Keenan sits in the same high-back chair in the ballroom, staring at me. “What does a man who already knows he’s lost have to be so nervous about?”

“Have you seen her yet?” I snap. “What about Miss Landers?”

“No, but they should be here anytime.”

“What if she changed her mind?”

He studies me for a second. “That might spare you. If she’s not impressed when you’re at your best, I can’t imagine she’ll be thrilled today.”

“Thanks for your honesty, asswipe,” I growl.

“You pay me to tell you the truth.” He grins. “But I will give you major props for keeping it together. All this gossip… Ouch. I would’ve skipped out and hit the bar an hour ago.”

“I’m getting another coffee. You want one?”

“I’m off caffeine for now. And are you sure you need more?” He meets my eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this, bossman.”

I nod. “It’s too damn early in the day to start drinking.”

I make my way to the coffee bar for a water and smack into Cole Lancaster. He’s all sandy-dark hair and smiles, a change in the scowling man I met on other occasions. Apparently, he’s here pushing his revived coffee brand on other hotels after his rave success with mine.

“Can’t believe you’re still mentioning Winthrope Lanai in your peaberry brew ads. It’s marvelous stuff, of course, but we won’t do you much good now,” I say pointedly.

He has a barista push a cup of his campfire brew over to me. Looks like I’m having one more coffee after all.

“You pulled my ass out of a tight spot, Winthrope, and the product is excellent. Don’t care if you got the whole city sick, I won’t hide our friendship.”

Damn.

“You should. I don’t want to be a drag on your business. If you want to take the Winthrope name off your stuff, I won’t be offended,” I say.

“I would, and so would Eliza and Destiny,” he says. A fondness sparks in his eyes when he mentions his wife and daughter. “You want to talk sick? We’re all sick as hell seeing what went down. Besides, I’ve already scored three more deals for Wired Cup this morning. I know something stinks. How the hell did it happen?”

“We’re still working it out,” I say bitterly, motioning like I need to go. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, though, Lancaster.”

“I still owe you. If you need help with this—”

I shake my head vigorously.

“Sell your coffee and say hi to your people for me,” I say.

When I walk back, I notice Keenan looking up at me.

“You okay?”

“Sometimes sympathy is worse than snide remarks,” I mutter.

Keenan nods. “We agree on something.”

“It’s going to be a long damn day,” I mutter.

And I’m absolutely right.

I sit there as long as I can stand it, slurping my coffee and watching accusatory looks fly around every time strange eyes land on me.

“I’m going for a quick walk,” I tell Keenan, lurching up when my cup is almost empty.

I exit the ballroom just as more people are flooding in with drinks in their hands. They’re starting to crowd the room for the big speeches, less than an hour away now.

Where the hell is she?

I stop by the exit door and watch people file through. No gorgeous blond hair or strawberry lips made to ignite my soul.

I look for Jennifer Landers instead. If she’s here, she’ll know when Piper is coming. More importantly, she might know what it’ll take to make Piper speak to me again over more than this fucking catastrophe at the fashion conference.

I’m still wondering as the last of the line mashes its way through the door.

No Jennifer Landers, though.

Sighing, I head into the hall, walking the long corridor until I come to the fire exit. End of the line, so I turn around and start walking the other way.

I’m almost back to the ballroom when a tall shadow steps out in front of me with ruffled coppery hair.

“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes!” Apollo Finch says with a sneer. “It would be so much harder gloating with you absent.”

When my eyes focus on him, I have to dig my feet into the carpet to hold myself back from crushing his throat.

“You sick son of a bitch. If we weren’t at this conference, I’d drag you out back and kick your ass black and blue. The only thing saving your shit-stack of a face right now is the fact that I can’t stand doing more damage to my grandparents than you’ve already done.”

My nostrils flare.

Every breath feels like inhaling a flaming sword.

I need to get the fuck away from this flying ass-monkey now.

“Sure, Winnie. Blame me for something that happened on your watch. Sad.” He makes an exaggerated yawn. “Meanwhile, my shares haven’t plunged into the basement. Our ratings haven’t gone down. People are clamoring for a chance to stay—”

“At a boring hotel that looks like it’s right out of The Shining? Clamoring. I’m sure,” I snarl.

Finch leers. “Oh, Winnie, you always were a rotten fucking loser. And they said the same about me that year your lovely grandfather squeezed me out of first.”

“The year your wife left your sorry ass, right? I saw the police reports. How long did that court battle go on? And what’d you have to pay in the settlement to shut her up about the assault?”

His face tightens until I can see his cheekbones nearly breaking through his thin skin.

“It doesn’t matter. Not after today. I’m taking first—and your greedy entitled ass is fucked.”

“I didn’t lose yet,” I say. “Even after all this, even after your worst, I still have a functioning company.”

“Interesting interpretation. Your stocks are in freefall, your ratings are atrocious, and your guests are all ordering their food over delivery apps. We both know you’re not getting an award for anything but biggest loser of the year.”

“You poisoned my guests, you bitter fucking reprobate,” I flare.

His mouth goes round.

“Mr. Winthrope, watch your tongue. That sounds an awful lot like slander. I do hope you can back that up, or you’ll have another painful lawsuit headed your way. And I heard your legal team is already stretched rather thin.”

I want to knock his face off.

I want to kick his ass to Bainbridge Island and back, and then keep kicking it all the way into the Pacific.

But I’m at a professional conference with thousands of eyes.

If I go off like a raging maniac, it will rip what’s left of our reputation to shreds and land me in prison.

I’m going to take this vicious fuck apart, but not here.

Not today.

I just have to hold it together through tonight, and then expedite my plans with Fyo.

So for now, I do the only thing I can.

I turn and walk away, ignoring how my feet feel blistered with every step.

I’m searching for Pippa again the whole time, but of course I can’t find her. Even if she’s here, it’s like finding Waldo in this foaming mess of people.

After a few more minutes, I throw myself back in the empty chair next to Keenan.

“Couldn’t find her,” I say.

“You will, Romeo. Relax.”

I glare at him. “It’s not funny. I need to talk to her tonight. Finch is here.”

Keenan winces. “You knew he would be.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t prepared to talk to him.”

His eyes widen and he stares through me. It’s weird to see him speechless.

“What did he say?”

“I told him I knew what he did. He threatened to sue me for slander.”

“Holy shit. Be careful! Do you think he’ll follow through?”

I shake my head.

“Doubt it, and I really don’t care. Let him. It won’t be settled tonight, anyway, but what else is new?”

“Damn,” he says quietly. “You’re really fixated on Piper, huh?”

My lip curls behind my hand with frustration.

I hate that I’m so fucking transparent.

“Boss, it’s okay,” he says, clapping a friendly hand on my shoulder. “It’s no crime to set this brawl aside for another night and find your girl. Go win her back.”

I will, damn you.

If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’m bringing Piper home to my arms.