One Bossy Proposal: Enemies to Lovers Romance

Sooner or later, they all end the same way.

Heartbreak.

Bruises.

Devastation.

As I break out a mineral water and stare out at the city, I realize there’s another reason why I call her Nevermore, Poe fluff aside.

She might invade my fantasies, but she won’t invade my life.

For my sake and hers, Nevermore is all Dakota Poe can ever be.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

For the most part, Dakota avoids me after our conversation about the poem. When she does talk, it’s like her tongue is glazed over. So fucking icy I want to shiver.

I’m back to wondering if she spits in my morning coffee.

Weirdly, being ignored makes me crazier than anything she’s ever said to me.

Ironic.

Anna Patel calls a marketing meeting on Thursday and asks me to sit in. Of course, there’s a vacant chair beside Nevermore.

I hesitate a second too long, leaving an opening for this junior copywriter to step past me toward the seat. I can’t even remember his name.

Jake? Jeremy? James?

He’s a newer kid, and he’s damn near undressing her with his eyes so obviously that if she ever looks up from her laptop, she’ll feel buck naked.

The punk thinks he’s sitting beside her.

Like hell.

I speed up, stepping behind him and grabbing his shoulder.

“Why don’t you take the seat beside Miss Patel? I may need to talk to my assistant.” It’s not a question. My words are professional, but my tone is barbaric.

I’ve never felt so uncivilized in the office, and fuck, it has everything to do with the hot prick of jealousy coursing in my veins.

“Oh, sure thing, Mr. Burns!” he says, fear flashing in his eyes before he scurries off without looking back at me.

That’s what I thought.

I sit down beside Dakota, grateful she’s oblivious to my territory marking.

Until she laughs, leans over, and whispers, “Behave.”

“Why?” I ask, flashing her a clueless look.

“You practically gave the poor guy shell shock.”

I’m not sorry.

He should be scared when he tries to usurp the boss’ seat—or his woman. Let him drool over a hundred thousand other beautiful women in this city.

“You’re welcome, Nevermore. From the looks he gave you, I think he writes angsty poetry about you. If he’s able to write at all. Is he any good?”

I’ve never noticed his work when he’s assigned to a less pressing line under Anna. Hell, like most new hires, I half forgot he even worked here until now.

“He’s where he should be, I think. We don’t collaborate a ton,” she says diplomatically, hiding a rosy blush on her cheeks.

“He should do more writing and less eye-fucking,” I growl in her ear, leaning close.

What the hell is wrong with me?

My nostrils flare at her scent. It’s bad enough that I practically tossed the boy on the floor, and now I’m low-key smelling her like a Neanderthal with a rose.

“Mr. Burns, shut up!” she hisses.

I can’t help smirking as her green eyes roll with shock.

“Did you see how he looked at you?” I whisper, undaunted. “If he was looking for his muse, it damn sure wasn’t interested in PG-13 poetry.”

She’s bright red but she grins.

“You’re such an idiot. Jim does not write poems about me. I doubt he even reads anything that isn’t a bargain thriller. I mean, that’s usually what he’s got his nose stuffed in during lunch.”

Her quip shouldn’t make me happy. At least Nevermore isn’t impressed with his reading habits.

“Takes one to know one with writers, I guess. You are a Poe and a literary princess,” I tease.

Her eyes lock onto mine harshly.

“Boss, I will stab you with my pen,” she whispers.

“Doubtful.”

“Want to bet?”

“I do. I’m the guy who’s signing your checks and your first performance bonus is coming up fast. Wounding me now would be monumentally suicidal.”

“You sure? It didn’t stop me from nearly hitting you with an apple,” she says. “I’m still sorry I missed.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Thanks for reminding me I should put you on an improvement plan.”

Dakota picks up the pen beside her laptop and jabs me in the center of my hand with the butt end.

Fuck.

I blink away the sudden sharp sensation.

“Damn you, are you out of your mind?” I snarl, shaking out my hand under the table.

“Seems to be the theme around here, Lincoln.”

Damn her again.

My urge to flip her over my knee and slap some respect into her plump ass eases ever so slightly when I hear my name on her lips.

At least she’s back in fighting form. I’m about to demand a meeting in my office after this one when I look up at the room, now full with several late stragglers slouching against the walls.

All eyes are on us, and I realize we’re no longer whispering.

“Are you two, um, ready? We should get started,” Anna says awkwardly.

“Of course.” I nod. “Sorry. Take us away, Miss Patel.”

“He started it,” Dakota mutters under her breath.