Perfect Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  “What’s wrong?” Nick asks.

  “My job. I’m going to have to figure something out. I wonder if Mrs. Gamlin can babysit tomorrow? I’m the only driver. I can’t be out all day.”

  “No Mrs. Gamwin! Tomorrow not my day. Where’s my mommy?” Millie whines, giving me a stricken look. “Why she go to work without telling me?”

  “Work surprises us sometimes, Millie,” Nick says softly. “Grown-ups have it rough. No matter how big and strong you think you are, there’s always another grown-up waiting in the weeds to boss you around. She’ll be back soon, I promise.”

  He looks at me and I glare at him.

  For a second, she seems to buy it. Then Millie throws her hands up, imitating Abby’s mom voice. “Tell me where Mommy is!”

  “Work, doll. She’ll come home a whole lot happier, I assure you,” he whispers.

  Then he takes my hand and forces the sleek black card into it, closing my fingers with his.

  “It’s okay, Reese. You need time to figure out your next move. You’re not alone in this. You’ve been with us an entire year. Take some paid vacation until we figure it out.”

  “I’m not sure how much I have,” I say.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he says, holding that eerie calm in his voice that almost makes me believe it’s all that easy.

  “I can’t just not show up. You have a ton to do for Brandt Dreams and Ward has the big community center pitch coming up. You can’t be down your only driver.”

  “With the profits we’ve had the past few quarters? We’ll manage with a temp service.”

  “Ward will fume if the company has to hire a service while I take an unplanned vacation. You know how particular he is. I’ve got to find a babysitter. And please don’t let Ward find out!” I sigh.

  The thought of both Brandt boys hovering over me with worry turns me inside out.

  “He’s very good at dialing up the misery, but not with this. He won’t be unreasonable, but if you’re worried, I won’t tell him. I’ll personally pay for the service. He’ll just assume you’re not coming in because I pissed you off.”

  I look up and meet his shimmering eyes. “Why would you do that, Nick?”

  “Nick the Prick?” Millie says, clapping her hands.

  “Millie, not nice. Don’t ever say that again,” I scold.

  Nick actually turns around, bringing up his fist to bite it, holding in a laugh.

  “Why, Auntie Reese? You and Mommy say it all the time.”

  I groan. It’s not like we ever slipped up in front of her, but apparently little ears are still burning long after she’s supposed to be asleep. Abby would laugh...if she ever makes it home.

  Nick smirks at me, then looks at Millie. “What can we do for you, sweetie?”

  She holds her hands above her head.

  He raises a brow at me.

  “You’re tall. She likes that. I think she wants you to pick her up...but you don’t have to,” I say slowly.

  Without hesitation, he bows down and picks Millie up, holding her high in his strong hands. She coos and giggles.

  “Uh-oh. You like to laugh, don’t you?”

  She giggles in response.

  “Such a nice laugh, too. It’s what they call infectious.” He smiles, but his eyes flick to me. “You should teach your auntie sometime.”

  Millie shakes her head. “Grows-up don’t laugh like me.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” he says sadly. His face grows serious when he meets my eyes again. “Reese, you’re practically family, especially to Grandma—”

  Millie reaches down, tugging the thick beard Nick’s been growing out for several months. At some point he let his usual sprinkling of stubble turn into a full, dark, and delicious halo of scruff.

  “You got a grandma, Nick?” She gasps in awe.

  “Sure do, and she’s pretty great,” he says casually, as if Beatrice is any ordinary grandmother, and not a world-renowned genius.

  “Lucky! I don’t have one, but Mommy says Mrs. Gamwin is like my grandma.”

  “That’s too bad. Everyone should have a grandma. We’ll just have to arrange for you to meet mine,” Nick says.

  “Oh my God,” I snap.

  He looks at me.

  “Stop. I don’t want the whole company knowing my business. Please,” I say.

  “Millie and I aren’t telling anyone. She’s just going to play with Grandma one of these days, when everything’s cool again. Aren’t you, Millie?”

  “Yeah!” She laughs, throwing her hands up. She slaps Nick’s cheeks with her chubby hands.

  He takes it like a champ, all manly smiles and none of his grump-face.

  Later, when I can stop and breathe again, I’ll hate what he’s done to my ovaries tonight.

  “See, Reese? Take a lesson from the kid. Keep finding reasons to laugh,” he says, his voice holding a warmth I’m not used to.

  Millie presses her luck, laughing like mad as she pulls his ear.

  “Ow, hey now, you—”

  “Talk to me! I’m fun,” Millie chirps like the pint-sized attention hog that she is.

  He laughs at her. “Too right. You’re adorable. Even when you’re getting bratty.” His eyes move from her to me. “Another lesson from the kid—if you need anything, just yank on something.”

  God help me, I giggle. But it feels good.

  “People need Auntie Reese! She doesn’t need people,” Millie says.

  “How did you come up with that?” I ask, surprised at the observation.

  “Mommy told me. Where is she?”

  Not again.

  “What else does your mom say about me?” I ask, trying to head her off.

  Nick smirks. “I think we need to get your aunt home before she gets hangry. What do you think, Millie? You hungry yet?”

  “I think she’s the hangry one,” I say, feeling my stomach gurgle. “Let’s grab something quick.”

  “No hangry!” Millie objects, her little brow digging at her eyes adorably.

  “You don’t know what hangry means, do you?” I ask.

  “Hungry and mad! Mommy says I lose my poop when I’m hangry. Not true. I haven’t had an accident for a long time.”

  “She’s pretty brilliant, Reese,” Nick tells me, casting those eyes at me like heat lamps. “Let’s get the future PhD her dinner.”

  Wonderful. My boss has known my little niece for all of twenty minutes and they’re already conspiring against me.

  “All this time, I’ve been too hard on you,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You just needed to be in a class of your peers to thrive.”

  “Four-year-olds?” he asks. “They make a lot more sense than grown-ups.”

  Okay, he deserves a laugh for that.

  “At least you’re smiling now. Come on, let’s go. Millie’s discerning tastes won’t wait forever.”

  I grab her backpack, ready to head to the car, but remember one important detail.

  “Wait. We don’t have a car seat,” I say, looking around the apartment. I thought Abby had a spare around here somewhere.

  But I only get three panicked steps around the place, opening the overloaded storage closet, when a firm hand lands on my shoulder.

  “Don’t torture yourself,” Nick whispers in my ear as he sets Millie down. “New plan. We all hang out here until the Presto-Delivery App brings us a car seat.”

  “Hammy-burger!” Millie balls her hand into fists.

  Nope. Not on my life. I’m not letting Nick play guardian angel again tonight.

  “Forget it. I’ll make you a big bowl of yummy macaroni here.” I walk into Abby’s tiny kitchen and take out a pan from the drawer under the stove.

  “Reese, come sit. If Millie wants a hammy-burger tonight, she’s getting one,” Nick says in his caveman tone.

  He’s so serious-looking I laugh.

  “It’d have to be a solo trip since you’re not buying me that car seat. You really want to take the company car through a drive-thru b
y yourself just so my favorite rascal can have her kid’s meal?”

  “What kind of savage do you think I am? I’m ordering delivery for everyone and then Miss Millie can pick our entertainment.” He stares through me, his eyes a shade softer.

  And for the tenth time tonight, I’m speechless.

  Good thing Millie picks up the slack. She claps her hands loudly and belts out one word every parent knows.

  “Elsaaa!”

  “One or two?” I ask, rummaging around for the remote.

  “Both!” She throws her arms out at either side of her head.

  “Both? I’m not sure we have time for that...”

  If it bothers her, she doesn’t show it. She just grabs the remote out of my hands and starts mashing buttons with her chubby little fingers.

  “Abby says Disney Plus is the best money she’s ever spent,” I say.

  “I’d have to agree,” he tells me.

  “What? You watch Disney Plus?” My brows go up.

  “I own a hundred thousand shares of their company. Why wouldn’t I check out their products? Also, I’m a sucker for their superhero movies and what monster would ever turn down Aladdin?”

  A messy laugh slips out of me. “You never struck me as a movie guy.”

  “Now you know. Of course, I don’t watch those silly princess movies—”

  Millie turns around and marches up to Nick, who’s now sitting on the ancient mauve couch.

  “Yes?” he asks.

  “Princesses are not silly,” Millie says sternly. “Anna saved her sister and Elsa saved her whole kingdom from the snow.”

  “...didn’t Elsa cause the snow first?” Nick says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. My bad. Let’s refresh my memory; I only saw it once on a flight to Hawaii.”

  Under my breath, I snicker. The idea of Nick flipping Brandt watching cartoons on a long flight pummels what’s left of my sanity tonight.

  But it’s a good pummeling.

  We settle in and watch Frozen, and when dinner arrives, we all eat our cheeseburgers and fries like we’re starving. It feels like the eye of the storm before a world of hurt lands tomorrow.

  But as I watch Nick falling into the movie, somehow...

  ...somehow this hurricane doesn’t feel like the apocalypse.

  When the movie ends, an instant delivery service leaves a car seat outside Abby’s door. Nick tries to drag it inside subtly and fails miserably.

  I stab a glare at him from the sofa with a dozing little girl. But as he waves to me silently and slips out the door?

  Yeah. I’m not even mad.

  8

  Sobering Thoughts (Nick)

  Back at my place, huddled next to the fire, I call Ward.

  “What’s up?”

  “We need a temporary driver for tomorrow. Probably for the next week,” I say.

  “Reese? If she’s going to be out for days, she needs a doctor’s note. HR policy, not mine. She can’t just go on vacation at crunch time without clearing it first,” he grumbles, ornery as ever.

  “She had an emergency, Ward. She’s not going for a joyride.”

  He pauses, softening his prickly voice as he asks, “What happened?”

  “Family matter. I was with her when the call came in. It’s fairly serious,” I tell him, hoping he won’t pry.

  My phone dings, announcing a text. I’ll check later. This has to be taken care of.

  “Well, emergency or not, she’ll have to take it up with HR. It’s not good form to let employees come straight to you with their problems, even if they’re people we like, little brother. We have a command structure for a reason—treat everybody equally and minimize confusion. HR takes precedent with PTO. Nobody’s fault. It’s just policy.”

  The way Paige dealt with HR? I want to say. I’m sure he’s forgotten about that, though.

  The phone dings with a second text I ignore.

  And why does he talk to me like I’m still the kid brother? We’re co-owners.

  I don’t need lectures from my bear of a brother.

  “I’ll have her talk to Susan, but I’ll vouch for her emergency personally. We should respect the gravity of the—”

  “HR gets to decide if it’s a true emergency or not,” he says, cutting me off. “Reese is an excellent driver and a good employee. I’m not arguing that. But if we make exceptions for her, we have to do it for everyone. It’s easier sticking to blind policies, and since this isn’t something we deal with on a daily basis, Susan’s in a better position to know just what those policies are.”

  I glower, hating that he’s still such a sucker for the tiniest rules when he broke at least a dozen with his fake-fiancée-turned-real-wife pact.

  “Look, if anyone else had the same shit happen, I’d give them time off. Over and done. I’m sure Susan will agree.” Although, to be fair, I might not give another employee my personal credit card.

  “Then talking to her shouldn’t be an issue. Nick, what the fuck? What is it you’re not telling me? What happened to Reese?”

  The phone dings for a third damn time.

  “And who keeps texting you?” he asks before I can answer.

  “I don’t know. I’m too busy gabbing with you and haven’t looked. What wouldn’t I be telling you, Ward?”

  He’s quiet for a minute.

  “I’m not sure. If there’s something going on with you and Reese...it’s not okay but we can work it out. Paige and I met at the office, too. I get it. You spend twenty to forty hours a week with a woman, it happens. It’s not a big deal unless you hide it and make it a big deal.”

  My breath stops.

  “What the hell? You think I’m dancing around some office fling?” The phone feels like it’s about to implode in my hand.

  “Why not? You request a lot of rides for odd reasons like midday coffee runs when there’s an espresso bar downstairs. And this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned an employee’s plight before, even when we’ve had people out on medical leave.”

  Whatever, I’m busted. It isn’t like he thinks.

  This isn’t Nick the office clown thinking with his dick. This is Nick the fool thinking too much with his annoying as hell heart.

  “If I’m ever with someone when the doctor calls to say they need a quadruple bypass, I promise I’ll mention it, Ward,” I bite off.

  “That’s it then? You were just there when she got bad news, so it hit you like the softie you are?” His tone tells me he’s hiding real concern behind his acid sarcasm.

  “Bingo. Should I call a service for tomorrow, or what? Or should I leave that to Susan to figure out too?”

  “Call her. I think she has a service for temp staffing, whenever we’re missing key personnel. If Reese needs more than a day or two, we might be able to keep the same person.” There are times when I appreciate Ward’s obsessive attention to detail.

  “Okay. I’ll talk to her. I need to see who’s blowing my phone up. Later.”

  “Wait. Will you at least tell me what’s up with—”

  “No. I told her I’d keep it under wraps,” I say, cutting him off. “You know how Reese is. She loves her privacy. She felt bad enough about me stepping in, and the last thing she’d ever want is the whole senior leadership butting in with offers to help. We’ve got this,” I say.

  “You’re starting to scare the hell out of me with these social skills. What gives?” He pauses, waiting for an answer that never comes. “Bad joke. Sorry. Goodnight, little brother.”

  The call drops.

  I clench my jaw, hating when he calls me that. Desperate to pull my mind off it, I clear the screen and look at my messages.

  Four missed texts. All from a screaming asshole.

  Still no comment, Mr. Brandt? I have twice as many credible claims that you and a certain model-actress-old flame made an X-rated video together. I may even have that video in my possession.

  There’s no way in hell Roland Birdshit has a copy—Carmen can’t be t
hat vindictive or self-destructive.

  My eyes read the next text through an angry red blur across my vision.

  At least tell me this—are the rumors that you and Carmen Seraphina still sizzle true?

  Not only no, but hell no.

  Too bad any response will just keep Osprey on my ass, though, so it’s better not to say anything.

  She says you’re getting back together soon, his next message reads.

  Like hell we are. I’d need a lobotomy first.

  I’m in this deep, so I read his last message.

  I’ve told you before, I’m a fair man. I’m trying to do you a favor by giving you a chance to comment before I approve anything fit to print. If you don’t answer me in a timely manner, however, I’ll have no choice but to run with what I have.

  “Run yourself to death, fuckhead,” I spit at the screen.

  I wish I could decide if I’m more pissed at Osprey or my own reflection.

  This is my life, and no matter what I do today, I’m still paying for yesterday’s sins.

  Now I get why Reese was so shocked when I stepped in to help.

  I also get why every employee we have goes straight to Ward with company problems and only talks to me as a last resort. While Ward buried the trauma of growing up a Brandt behind an armadillo personality, I escaped with mindless pleasure.

  That’s why, years ago, I got drunk on a white sand beach with a woman I’ve known my whole life—a woman who always brought out my worst—and I made a video that I’ll pay for until the day I die.

  Shit.

  If I had a genie, I’d wish to undo that day in a heartbeat.

  But there are lots of other days you need to undo too, aren’t there?

  It’s been roughly six months since the slap-happy champagne-to-the-face incident and Reese still thinks I was with her to make Carmen jealous.

  It’s true. I wanted Carmen to know it was over.

  I never cared if she was jealous or not. If I’d had a functioning brain that day, I should have taken another girl, someone I didn’t know. I damn sure shouldn’t have taken Reese that night.

  Out of old habit, I pour a couple fingers of brandy, hold up the glass, and...recoil in disgust.