Grumpy Romance (Billionaire Dads #1)

by Nia Arthurs

“See her out.” “I can walk on my own,” I snap. His head whips up. “You tend to do exactly what you want, Miss Jones. I can never predict when you’ll follow directions.” I’m going to punch his face. One day. Maybe soon.

“No, it’s just… they said the new assistant was some airhead who’s probably sleeping with the boss—”

don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says sourly. “That’s fine. I can jog your memory if need be. We’ll have our managers meeting in the lounge.” “Why?” “Why the lounge or why the meeting?” “Why the meeting?”

“Because I asked you. Nicely.” She stares me down.

“We’ll be there.” I nod. After settling my things in the lounge, I notice the door opening and all the employees walking in. My eyes widen. “I didn’t ask to meet with the clerks. Only the management.”

“They need to hear whatever you have to say too,” the head manager snaps at me.

“It’s hard for kids these days to understand the value of hard work. They just want to play on their phones and lazy around.” Her eyes slide over my body. “Or they want to sleep their way to the top.”

agreement. I ignore the dig because it’s pointless gossip. “Let’s say the kids are lazy. What are you doing when those workers are on the phone?” Her eyes widen, but it only lasts a second. She glances away as if my words mean nothing.

“You all know the store is doing poorly. It’s why I’m here.” My eyes dart to the other managers. “In your opinion, what is the biggest proble...

“They never stay long enough to make ...

“Hey, Felice.” “Why aren’t you picking up your sister’s calls?” she shrieks.

“Felice, I don’t know what Sasha told you but—” “She’s crying every night, Kenya. You’re breaking her heart.” My steps slow. “What about what she did to break mine?” “Meet up with her. Let her explain. You can’t keep avoiding her. It’s not good for her health.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say. And then I hang up.

thinks you’re punishing her.” “When has it ever mattered what an employee thinks about my conduct?” I grumble. “You’re the one who hired her despite the fact that she has no formal training or experience. Expecting her to outperform the professional management companies on her first try is—”

“I have high expectations of everyone. No matter who they are.”

She’s stubborn. Aggressive. Beautiful. Her dramatic entrance in my dreams is already a concern.

Yet, last night, Kenya barged into my subconscious mind just like she barges into everything.

For the first time in my adult life, I stalked someone. It turns out Miss Jones is very open about her private life. Her social media accounts are public and she has a plethora of photos showing her and her boyfriend. The moment I saw the shots of him, I wanted to smash something. Even now, I’m still annoyed. She’s taken. Damn it.

Miss Jones is still in my head. This is a problem. She is a problem.

If you have any concerns, please hesitate to contact me.

“Why?” “What do you mean ‘why’? You should know better than anyone.” I arch an eyebrow. She glances away. “Sorry. Sarcasm pops out of me when I’m tired.”

She pulls one of her shoes closer to her and slips her foot into it. I want to walk over there and smack her hand away from the heels. I want to run my hand over her thigh and ask her to wrap her legs around my neck. I want to reward her for her brilliance by teasing her until she moans. Off-limits, Alistair.

“You think you’re all that just because you’re rich?”

whisper. “I don’t care how loaded you are. Don’t talk to me like you own me, you giant flying cockroach. And next time, get your own coffee.” “Giant flying cockroach?”

“Ah!” I jump so high I’m surprised my head doesn’t c...

“What are you doing here?” “I would let it slide if it were a regular cockroach.”

“To compare me to the despicable flying strain…” He shakes his head. “I’m very offended.”

wasn’t talking about you.” My eyes dart to the side. “I was talking about someone else.”

“Mr. Alistair—” “Here.” He sets my shoes neatly in front of me. I blink rapidly, not sure if this is another one of his tricks. Why is he being so nice tonight? He was an absolute jerkwad about my report (which was awesome by the way) and he threw dirt on my management strategy. Not to mention he locked me in the file room to manage the impossible.

lift one leg and awkwardly shove it into my heels. The task requires more physical agility than I have. Arms wobbling, I do a little twist-inspired, one-legged dance to remain upright. Alistair’s warm fingers snap around my wrist. He confidently drives my hand down on his shoulder. “Hold on to me.” I put on my shoes in stunned silence. When I’m finished, I yank my hand back. “Thanks.”

“Ma’am?” “I’m good.” Alistair peers at me with his icy, hazel eyes. “Get in, Kenya.”

“I don’t want to put you out.” “Get in the car,” Alistair says dryly, “or don’t bother coming to work tomorrow.” Unreasonable flophead. “You’re threatening me with my job?”

“Your choice.”

“No, no boyfriend.” “Oh.” Alistair tilts his head back.

“Nice drawing.” “It’s inspired by someone I know.” “No one in this car, I assume.” “Oh definitely not.”

When the car slows in front of Sunny’s apartment, it’s still raining. Alistair rummages for something underneath the driver’s seat and hands it to me. It’s an umbrella.

“Don’t get sick,” he says. I’m almost touched… until he growls, “It was your decision to stay late tonight. I expect you to show up at work on time tomorrow even if you have to carry a tissue box.” My pulse soaring, I roughly haul his jacket off and slam it back into the chair. “Keep your stupid umbrella,” I mumble.

Alistair stops me. Taking my hand, he forces the umbrella into my palm. His ey...

I’m in a horrible mood when my phone rings. It gets even worse when Drake’s voice echoes over the line. “Kenya.”

My mouth tightens. He hesitates. Calls my name again. “Kenya?” Oh. So this is what betrayal sounds like. Deep and velvety. His breath shudders over the line. “I know you’re there.” “I am.” My voice wavers. I can’t help it.

Drake wrapping me in his arms at our first concert together. Drake clutching my chin as we kiss on the library stairs. Drake inviting me to move in with him. “What do you want?” I snarl.

“I have your things,” he says. “I packed it up for you.” “I didn’t ask you to touch my things, Drake. I asked you what time you’d be gone so I could take my stuff.” “Kenya.” “What time will you be gone? I don’t want to see you.”

Only me. I didn’t know I was falling for a rat who couldn’t wait to get inside my little sister. “Kenya, I—” “Make sure you’re not there when I pick up my stuff today, Drake. Or I swear, I won’t be responsible for what I do to you.” I hang up before he can say a word.

Turns out, Drake chose death.

I drag moving boxes from the bedroom to the hallway outside the apartment. They’re the hardest steps of my life. Pain. Anger. Regret. They churn through me. Take turns ripping my heart out. I know these wounds will need time to heal.

My knees buckle and Drake is there. “Let me help you.”

“I’ve got it.” He slides his arms under the box. Our fingers touch briefly and it annoys me that there’s still a spark. My body still remembers curling into him on a cold night. Pressing my lips to his in the rain. Wrapping my legs around his waist as he pushes me deeper into the mattress.

My youth. My naïveté. The part of me that still believed in fairytales. I yank the box away from him. “I said I’ve got it!” Drake holds on anyway.

Crushed pages are a death sentence. These books won’t ever close properly. “Kenya, I’m sorry.” “Get back!” I snap at him. Dropping to my knees, I gather the books to me like precious children. Smoothing out as many of the pages as I can, I huddle them close and storm to the living room. Thankfully, I have another empty box left. I deposit the books into it and drag it through the open door.

I’m almost to the truck I borrowed from Sunny when I hear someone calling my name. It’s not Drake’s voice.