Like a Boss (Accidentally Viral)

by Anne Harper

  Nell opened her mouth to speak and Quinn made a noise like he was going to do the same. Donavon cut them both off and then listed his next points on his fingers.

  “First, there was Ron and Mrs. Kelvin up and leaving with nothing but a note filled with hearts, talking about how they were soulmates and their spouses were chopped liver. And someone in this room was the only one who knew about the affair and decided not to give any of us a heads-up.” He looked pointedly at Nell. “Second, and hear me when I say this, I am not unsympathetic to the plight of accidentally becoming the object of attention on the internet, given my family’s history, but you go viral for hating on love and all men? And then don’t bother to give me a heads-up on that, either? At the very least we could have used your newfound notoriety to our advantage marketing-wise.” Donavon dragged his gaze to Quinn. “And third, just when I decide to bring in someone who is no-nonsense, no frills, a wet blanket on a dry day, you go and punch a well-known member of this community whose one thing is blasting people and their businesses all over the internet.”

  “He deserved the hit.” Quinn’s voice was even. Solid. It surprised Nell. “What he did and what he said should have gotten him more than just the one.”

  “I am not defending that man and I have no doubts he did, but just because someone deserves to be hit doesn’t mean you should do it.” Donavon shook his head. “To be honest, I still can’t believe the Quinn I know hauled off and did that—and in front of a crowd to boot.”

  Nell fought the urge to pipe in that she hadn’t asked Quinn to hit Keith. Yet she stopped herself. He’d been defending her honor and she wasn’t going to discredit that, even if it would claw a potential few good points back into her favor with the boss.

  “It wasn’t my finest hour, but I don’t regret it.”

  There Quinn went again. All stone. No give.

  Nell couldn’t help the blush that heated her cheeks.

  Or the butterfly that was trying its best to dislodge in her stomach.

  Donavon sighed. He leaned back in the chair but kept his gaze going between them.

  “I have learned through the years that less is more and I try my best not to toot my own horn, but you two do know how much influence and money I have, right?” he asked. “Had either of you called me with any of these instances, I could have helped somehow. We could have managed a situation instead of trying to play catch-up after the fallout has settled. Which brings me to the reason I’m here.”

  Nell’s shoulders went back on reflex. Quinn shifted in the seat next to her.

  Was she about to be fired?

  Was Quinn?

  “All of this extra attention you two, and Heart in Hand, have been given has made me take a closer look at the business in general.” Donavon leaned in. Nell and Quinn mimicked the move. “Ever since the first business I created, I’ve gone through a cycle, so to speak, with each venture. I create or buy, I own and manage, and then eventually I sell. It’s helped me create a diverse business portfolio and given me challenge after challenge, which I’ve always enjoyed. Now, after taking a long look at Heart in Hand and what I’m feeling for it, I think it’s time for my tryst with this South Alabama rental company to come to an end.”

  Nell’s heartbeat picked up.

  “You’re going to close Heart in Hand?” she asked, 75 percent squeak.

  That couldn’t happen. Heart in Hand was her second home. She loved her job and she loved the people she worked with, guests and clients included.

  What would she even do if Heart in Hand was no more?

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to dwell on the question more than that. Donavon shook his head.

  “No, but I do think it’s time to sell it and move on to the next venture.”

  It was rare, but Nell was speechless.

  Quinn, apparently, was not.

  “Donavon, I left Asheville to settle here with Owen. I’ve already got a school tour scheduled in a few weeks for him. Now you’re going to sell as soon as I arrive?”

  The older man put his hand up again in a stop motion.

  “It’s not like I’m leaving anyone out to dry,” he said.

  “But if you’re no longer the owner, then you’ll have no control over staffing,” Quinn shot back. “They could replace all of us as soon as the sale is complete.”

  “That’s a possibility. Which is why I think you might like the other option a bit better.”

  Nell felt like all the spit had been sucked out of her mouth.

  “The other option? What’s that?” she asked.

  Donavon steepled his hands together again. He smiled. All charm, all business.

  “Rumor has it that Mrs. McMurray is going to finally make a decision about selling Dweller’s Cove.”

  Nell couldn’t help but make a small noise at that. Mrs. McMurray had been sitting on making a decision for a year. That was probably why Quinn looked so confused when Nell glanced his way. Since Mrs. McMurray had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want to be bothered until she was ready, there was no file on her or Dweller’s Cove at Heart in Hand. At least, if Ron had one, it had gotten swallowed up in the metaphorical black pit that was created by his unique filing method. Also, it was a local thing.

  Everyone knew Mrs. McMurray and everyone knew to listen to her wishes. It was why Nell had been passively trying to win the woman over for a year.

  Catching flies was easier with honey and all of that.

  “Dweller’s Cove…I don’t remember seeing a file on that. Or visiting the property.” Quinn’s eyebrows were knitted together. Nell felt guilt at not bringing it up to him earlier. Though, in her defense, during the last few weeks she’d had a lot of things sprung on her. It felt like all her time lately had been focused on handling her personal business rather than making sure nothing fell through the professional cracks.

  “It’s the most coveted and beautiful stretch of land and dock in Arbor Bay,” she explained. “It makes all of our other beautiful properties look like the ugly and mean stepsisters from Cinderella. A year ago, she mentioned getting ready to leave Arbor Bay to be closer to her sister. She said she’d decided to rent the place out for people instead of just selling it outright. Word traveled fast and a lot of people have been trying to persuade her to sell to them. Not just rental companies but private interested parties and families.”

  “Mine included,” Donavon chimed in. “She laughed in my face and told me to go back to my classless mansion in the woods.”

  There was no anger in his words, just stating what had happened. That was Mrs. McMurray for you. A woman who spoke her mind without a filter and made even town royalty take a verbal spar without a heated rebuttal.

  “So what are you saying?” Quinn asked. “If we secure Dweller’s Cove, then you don’t sell?” He’d gone from rigid to thoughtful. A man who had a to-do list with a number one bullet point that was still changing.

  Donavon held up his index finger.

  “I’m selling no matter what. But if you get Dweller’s Cove, then I’ll offer to sell to you two first.”

  Nell couldn’t have heard that right.

  “Us?” She moved her hand between her and Quinn. “Us?” she repeated.

  Donavon nodded.

  “Individually, of course, but you two will be the first people I go to with the option.”

  That was a lot to unpack, but Nell stuck to one point harder than the rest.

  “Why the two of us?”

  Donavon didn’t seem annoyed or put off at all by the questions. Quinn, however, had tensed.

  “Despite recent events, based on both of your résumés and work experience, you two are the most qualified and passionate to truly run this place. I might want to sell Heart in Hand and move on, but I’d much prefer to sell it to someone who will take care of it, appreciate it, and keep it in the community t
he way it works best.” He shrugged. “In my mind, that’s likely to be one of the two of you.”

  “But who between us would get that option first?” Nell’s heartbeat sped up again.

  She had never considered owning Heart in Hand, but the moment it became an option, she couldn’t help but feel a lot of emotions about it. All excited, hopeful, and slightly panicked.

  “Get Dweller’s Cove and we’ll talk.”

  Donavon stood. He didn’t appear torn up about his decision in the least, which somehow made Nell feel even more on edge.

  “I bet you’re feeling all sorts of ways about this whole thing, but I’d think it would be better for everyone, you two included, to keep this information and upcoming change to yourselves. We all know how fast talk travels in this town, and I’d like to not get our current or potential clients, or our competitors, in any kind of state over it.” He went for the door as Nell and Quinn stood in tandem, but he paused before opening it. He turned, crinkles at the edges of his eyes. “I’d also like to not let Mrs. McMurray know how much power she has over us. That woman is already a hop, skip, and a jump away from running this town out of sheer fear—but that’s just my two cents.”

  That smile, that winning I get what I want because I already have what I need smile, grew.

  “Good luck.”

  Chapter Eight

  “We are not calling her!”

  Nell had both fists resting on her hips and looked two seconds away from smacking him.

  “You heard him,” Quinn defended, nodding toward the door that Donavon had left through no more than two minutes ago. “Mrs. McMurray is ready to make a deal and, like you said, there are a lot of people after that property. We need to be first in line, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to do anything to endanger my son’s chance at stability.”

  He moved around the desk and went for the physical copy of all the numbers and contacts for Heart in Hand, but Nell was fast. She pushed the notebook back closed before he could get anywhere. It caused their hands to touch, but he didn’t have the time to linger on that.

  Donavon Robertson had just changed the game on them.

  A game they were both going to have to win to secure their jobs.

  “And that’s why I’m not about to let an outsider who’s been in town for half a second ruin our shot at keeping the Heart in Hand I know and love alive and out of the hands of someone else possibly coming in here and destroying it all.” Nell’s expression didn’t soften. Instead it became more pointed, focused. She barely even blinked as she held his gaze. “Mrs. McMurray isn’t like any stereotypical southern woman you’ve met. If you come at her like a salesman, she’s going to write you off faster than you can say ‘Antonella was right.’ She likes a challenge. She likes being mysterious. She likes the long game. If we want to get into and keep her good graces, we have to almost trick her into it. We don’t go to her. We get her to come to us.”

  Quinn let out a frustrated sigh. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

  “What if you’re wrong and, while we’re playing the long game, someone decides to cut that time in half and gets it?”

  Nell didn’t drop her stare.

  “I have been coming at Mrs. McMurray for half a year. I know a lot about her, and gossip in this town, as you’ve seen, is stronger than steel. Mrs. McMurray won’t agree to the first person who asks. Hell, she’s already turned down the first twenty who’ve asked. She’ll be the only who does the asking or no one gets anything. I’d bet every single one of my siblings on it.”

  In any other situation, Quinn might have laughed at the last statement, merely because he hadn’t heard it before, but they were talking business. Even if it had taken an unexpected turn.

  Would he buy Heart in Hand if the option was presented to him?

  Yes. Yes, he would.

  What was more stable than being able to truly control Heart in Hand? Not having to worry about Donavon, his rules, and having the freedom to stretch?

  Those were as appealing as, at the very least, stopping someone new from possibly restaffing or changing the entire business.

  “So how do you propose we do this then?” he asked. “Just twiddle our thumbs and wait for a call?”

  At this, Nell quieted a moment. She bit her lip in thought.

  Quinn let his gaze drop away from that and refocused on anything else.

  “We need to get word out that we’re truly interested in buying Dweller’s Cove,” Nell finally said. “That we want to make it something special while respecting it at the same time but that we don’t want to rush Mrs. McMurray or harass her. She’s not big on friends, but there are a few people in town she sees every week. Tally and I can make a list and we can pick someone to go ‘bump into’ and get the conversation started. Someone we know will carry it back to her.”

  He scrubbed his hand down his face.

  “This sounds like we’re taking a shortcut that’s longer than the main road.”

  “Well, that’s just how it is, no matter how it sounds. Our best play is to use small-town living to our advantage.”

  Quinn didn’t argue further.

  But he did have a question he had to ask.

  “Would you buy it? If we do get Dweller’s Cove and you’re offered it first?”

  A look of pure emotion flicked across her face but, for the life of him, Quinn couldn’t tell what it was. Instead, he was captivated as the woman threw back the same question.

  “Would you?”

  A small silence stretched between them as their eyes stayed locked.

  Donavon had given them a competition and the simplest of terms: get the big client, buy the business, and keep it away from others. Yet he’d added some spice. Only one of them would be offered the chance to own Heart in Hand.

  But which one?

  And what decided it?

  That uncertainty seemed to be the quiet thing that was the loudest in the room at that moment.

  Quinn didn’t know why, but he decided he didn’t want to address it.

  Instead he rapped his knuckle on top of the desk.

  “None of that will matter if we don’t get Dweller’s Cove,” he said. “Are you sure we can’t play this straight and true? We can’t just call her up or stop by and give her our pitch?”

  Nell shook her head hard enough to move her curls.

  “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Mrs. McMurray isn’t what most people are accustomed to. It’s not about just working smart or strategically. It’s about working socially. Please, Quinn. You’ve got to trust me on this.”

  And Quinn did.

  Something that was wholly surprising.

  Nell pointed at him, all stern. “Which means you need to drop the loner act and get cracking on being more sociable,” she added on. “No more handing out knuckle sandwiches like we’re all teenagers again.”

  Quinn actually smiled at that. “Fine. Next time someone disrespects you, I’ll just let one of your siblings do the punching.”

  For the first time since he’d seen her that morning, a hint of a smile went across Nell’s face.

  “That’s all I’m asking.”

  They lapsed into one last small silence after that. One that, again, Quinn wasn’t quite sure what to do with. Nell seemed to be in the same boat. She kept his gaze but didn’t say a word.

  A part of Quinn wanted to apologize, but he didn’t know why, which meant he didn’t know how. So he went the business route.

  “Let me know when you’re done with the list.”

  Nell nodded.

  Was it his imagination or did her gaze drop to his lips before she left?

  …

  Tally and Jones took the news with surprising calm. Neither said they blamed Nell or Quinn for the new high-stakes game of Net the Big Fish, but bo
th were more than ready to help.

  “My dad worked for a company that was bought, and then he and his whole team were first out the door,” Jones said of the potential new owner. “I don’t know if that would happen here, but I’d rather not find out. Especially if it’s because we couldn’t win over Mrs. McMurray.”

  Tally had more or less the same sentiment. Like Nell, she loved her job and wasn’t keen on any kind of danger to it.

  So true to her word, Nell made a list of people who had any kind of influence on Mrs. McMurray while Tally helped. Jones, however, went with her to present the list to Quinn. Nell wasn’t sure if it was his way of showing camaraderie or if it was the fact they were playing against the unknown that was exciting him, but he was uncharacteristically talkative after Quinn read off the names.

  “My cousin is married to one of the guys who does landscaping for Dweller’s Cove,” he said, pointing to the list. “He goes out there every Monday. I can talk him up Saturday when we watch football together. See if he can’t put in some good words for us.”

  “And Carla Jean”—Nell pointed to the name on the same list, side-eyeing the somewhat hyper Jones—“always has lunch at the café on Mondays and Thursdays. That’s Mrs. McMurray’s hairdresser. She’s a big fan of chitchat, so whatever we say around her will travel back to the person we’re talking about at the speed of light.”

  Quinn’s brow crinkled, his gaze on the paper. A general looking at strategy before an attack. Which was an oddly succinct comparison.

  “You think this is the way we’ll get her to come to us?”

  Nell and Jones nodded. Quinn looked hesitant.

  “Okay, well, until then, we need to make sure we’re on top of everything else. Get back to work and, Nell, can you make me a file for Dweller’s Cove? I can’t find one.” There was some strain in his tone, like he was trying not to say something, but he seemed satisfied when she said she would.