Damaged Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

“Want to know a secret, Callie?” he whispers.

I nod, grateful for something that might make me forget what caused my little fit.

“Everyone here is jealous, and I enjoy rubbing it in their faces. I’m better at what they do than they’ll ever be. While they fume and fail at being interesting, I’m stealing their subscribers.”

I sigh, eyeing him in amusement.

That ego could bring down a wild tiger.

“So much for thinking even you could take a break from work,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “Here I thought this was just an excuse to go somewhere warmer and play hooky from the office.”

“Less for me, more for my staff,” he says with a snort. “Did you think we’d be in, out, and done?”

“I think you mean ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am.’”

He gives me an odd look—quick, searing, there and gone in a flash before he’s amused again.

“Please, lady. I’m an asshole to my core, but I’m not vulgar.”

“Oh, perish the thought. You don’t totally fit the nickname they have for you; I’ll give you that.”

“Birdshit?” he growls, a hot glint in his eye. “The man who started that crap owes me. I shielded him from a sex tape leaking that would’ve made his life a bigger living hell than it already was.”

“I mean, it’s nice that you can make up with someone,” I whisper. “You must be friends with the Brandt brothers if most of their coverage is positive now.”

“Friends, never,” he flings back, his voice clipped. “They simply deserved mercy.”

The two billionaire owners of Brandt Ideas, a top Chicago architecture firm, were once the favorite butt of so much gossip.

Snickering, I tap my nails against my cup. They’re an odd shade right now. I didn’t have time this morning to clean off yesterday’s green and instead painted over it with a thin layer of sparkly silver, creating a sort of creamy-glitter jade.

“So you’re saying we’ll actually get a few hours to look around and enjoy Austin?” I ask sweetly.

“Days,” he corrects. “The conference is over tomorrow afternoon. Our hotels are booked for four days, and the flight’s three days from now.”

“Very generous.” I lift my brows in mock surprise that’s actually a little real.

“Magnanimous, you mean. Don’t forget it,” Roland says. “Do you have plans for touring the city? Austin is a lively place this time of year.”

“Oh, I...I have no idea,” I answer with a quirk of my lips. It shouldn’t be so easy to talk to him about sightseeing when I’m trying to remember he’s my anti-hero. “I’ve never been here, I guess, and wouldn’t even know where to start. I’ll have to watch some TikToks to see what’s awesome around here.”

“You young people and your damned clock app,” he rumbles, even though he’s not that much older than me. There’s a glimmer in those sharp eyes that says he’s waiting for my reaction. “Why not let me give you the grand tour?”

“You? Wait, what?”

I think I just died.

I almost hate myself for giving him the reaction he so clearly wants, but I can’t stop staring.

He’s...inviting me to spend time with him...outside work?

I clear my throat. “Why would you d-do that?”

“Call it sick humor.” It trots off his tongue so pleasantly. “Letting you enjoy the gorgeous city, but in the company of a man you despise more than Lucifer.”

“I—you—” I scowl at him, freezing up. Since words are hard, I childishly stick my tongue out at him for the second time in twenty-four hours, huffing and looking away across the conference floor. “Fine. But I won’t let you be miserable. I’d hate to miss the best stops in Austin, anyway.”

I expect him to just laugh.

To let it go like the joke it surely is to him.

Instead, he gives me a look that steals my soul.

“Callie,” he says, drawing out my name in a way that makes my cheeks heat, turning it into a sensual purr. “Trust me when I say there are some sights here you won’t want to miss.”

Mayday.

I’m not even looking at him now, but I feel his eyes devouring me.

Like he’s taking up all the space around me, enveloping me in that sinful voice like smoke.

What is it?

What is his endgame with me?

There’s a reason he keeps plucking my strings, making me quiver.

I just wonder if I have the courage to find out why.

* * *

I’m quivering with exhaustion by the time the two-day conference ends.

Way too much info crammed into my brain in too little time.

I’ve filled two freaking notepads with data points and hasty scribbles.

It’s all useful, sure, but I definitely need that break.

Sleeping in the next day feels divine. Waking up buried in the massive bed that feels like a giant marshmallow and I’m almost ready to face the world.

Until a light rap on my door makes me groan with realization.