One Bossy Proposal: Enemies to Lovers Romance

I hope I don’t fuck this up more.

Anna brightens and slowly nods. “Good choice. I’m a pretty crummy shot with a pitchfork, but the rest of the mob might aim straight for your balls.”

“What a delightful image. Are we done, or do I need to suffer through more of your humor?” I say with an exaggerated yawn.

Smiling to herself and shaking her head, her heels click past me and into the hall.

I trail after her out the door, staying several paces behind her, and decide to take my usual walk through the building.

Downstairs, people are still standing around in busy clusters, holding cupcakes.

Odd. I didn’t order cupcakes today.

Through the murmurs, I hear the name Tillie more than once.

Beautiful.

My mother blowing in for a nostalgic hello is the last thing I need right now.

I’d hate it when she “drops by to see old faces” if it didn’t make her so damn happy. I have to admit it’s an easy morale booster, too, when the entire office knows a visit from Matilda Burns means food and long breaks chitchatting.

Say goodbye to a productive day.

Scowling, I look high and low for raven chick, but don’t spot her in any of the people clusters. I move to her desk, only to freeze in my tracks.

Mom is hunched over her in a spare chair, patting her on the back. Poe’s face is a crushed red tomato.

Goddamn, this is bad.

Not only do I have to apologize now—and fucking mean it—apparently, I have to do it with my mom standing watch like an empathic Doberman.

Before I can back out, their eyes flick to me.

“Mother,” I say with a friendly nod before I glance over. “Miss Poe.”

Nevermore won’t even look at me.

“Oh, Lincoln, you’re just in time! I found this precious young thing with a heart sting in the break room. I had to pry it out of her, but she finally told me some thoughtless manager made a nasty comment about her ability to do her job due to her marital status in the middle of the meeting. Can you believe that?” My mother’s eyes flash violently like she wants to pull said idiot’s throat out with her teeth. “I trust you plan on having a serious discussion with the perp. That’s not how we do things here, especially to a new hire. When I was in charge, no manager would’ve dared breathe a single word of that BS.”

Fuck.

If only she knew what “manager” went tripping over his own dick.

Of course, Nevermore knows.

Beneath her sad eyes, she smirks at me like the venomous little devil she is behind my mom’s bristling shoulder and immediately straightens her face.

Even those puffy eyes don’t look quite so devastated anymore.

“I promise I’ll look into it,” I grind out.

“Tillie knew you would. She told me she’s certain you’d never let anyone talk down to your employees like that in your presence,” Poe says in an innocent way.

Damn her.

“Absolutely not,” I say without hesitation.

Nevermore blinks. Her mouth forms a shocked and appalled “oh,” but the shape of her full lips in my mind is far less innocent.

“And yet you were there, sitting beside me the whole time,” she whispers.

Mom’s eyes lash from me, to her, and back to me again.

“Lincoln Burns. I hope I don’t need to be very disappointed in you,” Ma warns with a frown that almost rolls off her face.

Fucking hell. Am I sixteen again?

I run this entire company with well over a thousand people’s lives in my hands. She can’t just come barging in and treat me like a child, undermining my authority.

We have employees who have worked here since I was a kid, and they need to know who’s boss. I’ll talk about my shortcomings, personal and professional, with my mother later.

For now, I need to deal with the little schemer who can throw me to the lions at a whim.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we, Mr. Burns?” she asks too sweetly.

I glare at her.

“And why haven’t you introduced me to this precious little thing before now, Lincoln? You know how much I adore my marketing bees. Without them, we’d never move a dab of honey. Did you know she’s a nationally renowned young poet? You should tell me when we get new faces—especially such interesting ones!” Mom says, slapping her thigh.

“Mother, you’re retired. Forgive me if I won’t drag you out of enjoying retirement for every minor change in the office,” I say flatly.

Her face goes blank, her lips form a straight line, and she stares me down.

Here we go. The mom look written large. I haven’t seen it this severe since before I left for the Marines.

“I’ll make a note to introduce you next time,” I promise.

Satisfied, she nods and looks at Dakota. “I hope you can help my son sell wedding wear with a little heart. He doesn’t know the first thing about weddings.”