Something Like Hate: An Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance

by Harloe Rae

  Sifting through data from one source or another is routine procedure in the very early purchasing stages. We could discuss the results for weeks or minutes and probably arrive at the same conclusions. I loathe this process in its overly inefficient entirety, but the regulations aren’t mine to dictate. Meeting in person to discuss these findings is even more pointless, but certain companies prefer gathering as a group as often as possible. I figured we could give it a whirl in this situation for all parties involved.

  This is probably the moment Vannah discovers how unnecessary her presence is. A spark glints in her eyes as she catches my stare. If I was a lesser man, that gleam might be cause for concern. I can almost hear a switch being flipped while she shifts to face me. “Sure, of course. I’m well aware you’re uncomfortable making any huge decisions without proper consultation from me.”

  I choke on my coffee, nearly spewing across the wall. “There’s no—”

  Her palm is still resting on my arm, and she gives me a harsh squeeze. “It’s okay, Mr. Winters. There are a lot of factors to consider when purchasing a warehouse. It’s understandable to be intimidated by these statistics. That’s why you hired me.”

  A bomb detonates from somewhere inside me, turning the edges of my vision a fiery red. The savvy beauty just lobbed payback into my lap. All I can do is grin at the three people gawking at our display. I imagine we resemble a fucking circus act to those standing on the sidelines. My reputation precedes me. This mockery she’s attempting to pull off would never be tolerated under normal circumstances. I could prove that she’s completely irrelevant in less than twenty seconds. But reprimanding her in front of my partners is bad form. I’m not willing to stoop that low and let her walk away looking innocent. That doesn’t mean she’ll get away with ridiculing me.

  “That’s awful generous, Ms. Simons.” It takes great effort not to growl the response. The scowl straining my features bellows the animosity loud enough.

  “I’m just doing my job, Mr. Winters. Am I going above and beyond? Perhaps. But you deserve having the most reliable support for these endeavors.”

  The way she flips my meaning makes my head spin. I clench my teeth, trying to keep my voice low. “You’re in a clever mood.”

  She flutters her lashes at me. “Thank you.”

  Paul chuckles while I pay the price of losing my manhood to this ballbuster. If our roles were reversed, I’d probably be laughing too. But, as it sits, this show is being offered at my expense.

  The trio across from us exchange a glance. Betty is the one to speak. “Just goes to show that everyone needs reinforcements in their corner. You can’t do it all alone. Right, Landon?”

  I will admit no such thing. No one has dared to address me in such an outlandish manner while under the pretense of being professional. That’s the only reason my composure is floundering. “That depends on the situation.”

  Riley is studying me like there’s an unsolved puzzle on my forehead. “I didn’t take you for a team player.”

  “I’m not,” I retort.

  “Oh, who are you kidding?” The dramatic swat Vannah gives my shoulder is almost comical. This woman should be an actress. She missed her calling. There’s a shelf of unclaimed awards with her name on them. Without further delay, she dives back in. “Landon loves getting my opinion. I was surprised at first, since he’s obviously well versed in making money and investing wisely. But who am I to disagree with his methods?”

  A sizzle skates across my skin as I deflect her atrocities. What the fuck is she trying to accomplish? “You’re overstepping, Savannah.”

  “Are you finally ready to take the lead on this? I’m so proud of you.” Her wink is the icing on this shit sundae.

  Three matching smiles are aiming at Vannah. They’re eating the trash she’s serving by the mouthful. Fury seeps under my defenses with every labored inhale. Investing in their solar panels might’ve been a grave mistake, extremely profitable or not. This is backfiring faster than I can salvage the wreckage.

  The tie around my neck suddenly feels too constricting. I reach to loosen the knot, but falter at the last moment. Showing weakness to this woman is an error I won’t make again. She can’t know how her behavior—her sheer proximity—affects me.

  At our ongoing silence, Vannah takes the opportunity to plow full steam ahead. “I keep telling him to have more confidence, and not rely so heavily on me. But alas, here I am. Maybe I should take it as a compliment that Mr. Winters refuses to accept any info as fact without me approving it first.”

  And that’s the last straw.

  I need to end this charade before she gains more momentum from her captivated audience. With a definitive slap, I slam my folder shut. “I need to speak with Ms. Simons in private.”

  Vannah cups a palm around her mouth, stage-whispering to them. “Mr. Winters probably wants to compare notes before moving forward. His shortcomings can be somewhat of a touchy subject and I’ve revealed too many secrets. He’s super private about his strategies.”

  “Enough,” I bark.

  “See?” She nods at me as if they require a visual to connect the dots.

  I seethe quietly while pretending she doesn’t exist. “We’ve seen enough numbers for one morning. Any concerns can be discussed over email. We can reconvene later next week. Feel free to show yourselves out.”

  Betty, Paul, and Riley just gape at me. I’m too far gone to consider how this will impact our working relationship.

  Vannah waves at them with the exuberance of a child hyped up on cotton candy. “Bye for now. It was wonderful to meet you.”

  I grip her elbow and stalk from the room. “You’re coming with me.”

  “Someone’s in a hurry,” she coos.

  I haul us into my office, slamming the door behind me. “What the fuck was that?”

  She crosses her arms and leans against the wall opposite me. “I could ask you the same question.”

  “This is my investment you’re fucking with. They probably think I’m an idiot.” I wonder if there’s steam pouring from my ears. It sure feels like it, based on the heat spouting off my head.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I spoil your fun?”

  “You fucking steamrolled me,” I spew.

  Vannah snorts. “Hello, Pot. Can I introduce you to Kettle?”

  “What you just did is worse than me forcing you to attend a meeting.”

  “Do I look like a rug to you?”

  I scowl at the nonsense continuing to drop from her forked tongue. “No.”

  “Then why are you trying to walk all over me? I’m not a doormat, so you don’t get to treat me as such. There’s carpet beneath your shoes to wipe that shitty attitude on.” Her eyes are spitting fire hot enough to send the entire city up in flames.

  “I was only proving a point.”

  “Ditto, dude. I’ve sat in countless meetings for the exact purpose you claimed. Most people in your position request counsel from the specialized professionals they hire. This was meant as a complete waste of my time, though. Your ego can’t handle having anyone else involved.”

  I can’t concentrate with the rattling in my brain. Focusing on her main offense is the extent of my current ability. “You just made me look like an incompetent ass in front of my partners.”

  “That’s all on you.” She gestures toward the conference room we just vacated. “And you really need to stop giving me so much credit. I’m fully capable of turning the tables, but you do a fine job of being an asshole all on your own. All I did was speed the process along. You’ve met your match, Lannie.”

  “We’re not equals.” The reminder spews from me in a raging surge.

  Vannah holds up a finger. “Don’t even bother threatening to replace me with another firm. We both know you’re not going to. The crying wolf ploy loses authenticity after a while.”

  She’s right, and I hate that. The simmering in my gut begins to boil. “There’s nothing stopping me, certainly not you.”

 
“How about your inflated obsession with putting me in my place or whatever the hell you’re trying to prove? There’s no way I believe you’ll just walk away. You’re committed for some reason.” The way she scrutinizes me grates on my final nerve.

  This is unraveling faster than I can process. I rake a hand through my hair. When did I become so transparent? I do need her to stick around. Otherwise, this is all for nothing. “I only want the best, and that happens to be you. Tolerating insubordination isn’t on the list, though. Clean up your act or I will find someone better.”

  I can almost hear her molars grinding. “As a self-respecting woman, I have to defend myself. Did you honestly expect me to fall in line like a docile duckling?”

  How much worse can this get if I confirm her suspicions? “You’re in deep shit after pulling that stunt.”

  Vannah shrugs. “What’re you going to do? Go ahead and call Vince. Tell him how you demanded that I show up with zero notice. You’re not innocent in this.”

  Calling her bluff would be the simplest solution. The plan formulating in my muddled mind is much better.

  Monday morning rarely puts a smile on my face. I mean, there’s usually no reason to cheese while dragging my ass into work after a weekend of freedom. Two large mugs of coffee never give me this much bounce. Besting Landon seems to have a positive impact on my mood. I should really try it more often. But that might not be necessary.

  He’s been radio silent after booting me—big shocker—from his building on Saturday. The lack of constant annoyance from him is pleasant, albeit a tad alarming. I’m choosing to brush off the prickling tingles of internal warnings as mere products of my own personal paranoia. Landon has far more important people to pester on a daily basis. That doesn’t stop me from doing another quick scroll through my emails. Thankfully, there still aren’t any freshly squeezed demands waiting in my inbox.

  A strange tension descends once the elevator doors open on my floor. Before stepping out, I take a cursory scan and find nothing. That silence is a cause for concern all on its own. The large room is typically thrumming with activity by now. My giddy spirits falter as I study the unfamiliar scene. There’s no one rushing to finalize a contract, or seeking advice with a legal snag, or even bragging about landing a new client. The pressure threatens to envelop me as I move with caution toward my desk. That’s when the cause for this odd disturbance presents itself.

  When I turn the corner, a major bottleneck appears to be jamming the flow of traffic. People have to turn sideways to pass through the normally spacious walkway. The impacted area happens to be where I sit. It isn’t until I’m a few feet from the stockpile that what’s blocking the path finally comes into view.

  An explosion of flowers, muffin baskets, chocolates, stuffed animals, and balloons spill in all directions. It looks like a freaking floral shop decided to take up residence in our wing. It feels like wet concrete is slowing my stride as I notice that the gift cascade seems to be stemming from my cube. There might as well be a guilty finger pointing right at me from that general vicinity. I’d have a better estimate of the originating source if I could actually see my beloved corner.

  Three sectional panels create a rectangular space that I share with Olivia. Those partitions are flimsy on a good day. Now? Our so-called walls are warping toward an imminent collapse. All that separates our stations is a countertop scrap, so what’s hers tends to overflow into mine, especially in this case.

  Speaking of my cube mate, Olivia is waiting for me as I approach. She’s tapping her foot on the off chance I miss the exasperation pinching her features. “It’s about time you strolled in. What the hell is all this?”

  “Looks like you’ve snagged a new boy to worship you. He’s a winner in the presents department. For your sake, I hope he’s not compensating for something with all this.” I toss out a forced cringe on the last part for her benefit.

  This chick’s track record for attracting stage five clingers is embarrassing. No sane man would go to such extreme lengths to please a girl, even by my whimsical standards. I can almost appreciate how this sappy display resembles a romantic comedy clip. Only in the movies would this be considered cute.

  “This is all for you.” She waves her arms in a wild circle. Her tone isn’t trying to hide the bitter edge.

  A scoff escapes me at her accusation. Last I checked, my prospects were zero. I’m confident that the championship title for worst date ever will be mine soon enough, though. “That’s not possible, but nice try.”

  “Think again.” She juts her chin at a balloon that has ‘Savannah’ plastered across the middle.

  Well, that answers that.

  This couldn’t be more deliberate if Landon smacked me on the ass. His name is smeared across every seemingly thoughtful item. The asshole gets credit for being creative. I didn’t see this coming.

  A tiny sliver buried in my lonely heart preens at the sentiment—fake and diabolical though it might be. If only a guy would send me flowers with genuine intentions. Prince Charming won’t come within ten miles of me with a villain of Landon’s caliber circling too close. All I’m left with is a bitter taste in my mouth from this atrocious prank. He’s mocking the system.

  Olivia wrinkles her pointy nose at an oversized teddy bear. “You need to clear the aisle immediately. This mess is disrupting our productive environment, not to mention breaking fire code. And I’ll need access to my desk at your earliest convenience. My clients are waiting.”

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” As if it’s that easy. Where the heck does she expect me to stash this loot? I’ll need an entire storage unit. There must be a local organization willing to accept these as charitable donations. “How about you give me a minute? I literally just walked in the door.”

  Talk about a buzzkill.

  She cocks her hip. “Not my problem.”

  “I didn’t ask for this.” I whip a frantic hand at the disaster that’s occupying our cubicle.

  “Actions speak louder than words. You must give mind-blowing head.” Her grin is all taunt.

  “Don’t be a twat waffle,” I retort.

  “Real mature,” she snips.

  “You’re being a hypocrite.” My voice has a cheery lilt that I’m sure is successful in ratcheting her frustration.

  On cue, Olivia rolls her eyes. “I’m late for a meeting. This better be gone when I get back. If I were you, I’d get busy finding a scoop shovel. Vince is furious.”

  I falter at the mention of our boss. It’s a miracle he hasn’t ripped me a new one yet. “Quit with the third degree. I don’t require an interrogation. It’s not like I’m responsible for sending the stuff to myself.”

  But I damn well know who is.

  “Whatever.” She huffs and stomps away.

  The urge to flip her the bird is hard to resist. I curl my hand into a fist and yank my gaze off her retreating form. More than a few people toss me a stink-eye as they struggle to pass. I wiggle my fingers, encouraging them to move along. The colorful pile redecorating our carpet is a great distraction from their grumbling.

  This collection must’ve cost Landon at least a grand. Maybe more. That amount is a slight drop in the bucket to him. With a loud scoff, I rip a note from a nearby bouquet.

  You wanted me to tell Vince. Now you can do the honors.

  A hiss escapes me as I grab another one.

  Is this committed enough for you?

  The bastard is using my words against me. Real clever.

  I snap a picture and send it to Landon, attaching an appropriate caption.

  Me: Desperate much?

  Lannie: I’ve never had any complaints.

  I gag to avoid choking on his arrogance.

  Me: I find that hard to believe since I’m literally complaining with this message.

  Lannie: For the wrong reasons.

  Me: There’s nothing right about this. You’re giving gentlemen a bad name.

  Lannie: That’s their own fault for being mushy losers.<
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  Me: You’re just jealous.

  Lannie: And you’re picturing me naked.

  I wrinkle my nose as the visual assaults me. Scrubbing my brain with bleach is in my near future.

  Me: In your dreams, Lannie.

  Lannie: You’re reusing phrases. Get fresh material, sugar.

  I tamp down a scream. Even his texts make me stabby. I might need to reevaluate my objectives for this revenge scheme. Convincing Landon to fall in love was a lofty goal to begin with. Each combative interaction makes the odds tip farther toward highly unlikely. At this rate, getting him to catch a single feeling seems like a mighty feat. Knocking him down a peg or five will have to suffice.

  Me: Repetition will get the memo through your thick skull faster. Don’t be intimidated by your shortcomings. I’m here to help, remember?

  Lannie: This has been captivating—really—but I have actual problems to deal with. Enjoy cleaning your mess.

  I’m busy cursing his existence when a stern voice slices into the chaos.

  “Vannah, can I see you in my office?”

  Static crackles in the air as I turn to address my boss. Shit. I pocket my phone and tuck tail toward Vince. “Yes, of course.”

  He motions to a chair. “Quite a hectic morning, huh?”

  I sit down with a fake nonchalance like the professional I am. “Yes, it seems everyone is in a tizzy.”

  His eyebrows lower to scolding levels. “Let’s not beat around the bush.”

  “Excellent idea, sir. Efficiency is always best.” It takes great effort to squash the old habit of fidgeting under his intimidating scowl. I’m a boss bitch, dammit. This is just a minor obstacle in my otherwise pristine career.

  “I’m all for love and displaying affection, but this is over the top.” He points to the offending area.

  “I couldn’t agree more. It’s a terrible distraction.” If I reveal who’s behind the delivery, there’s a shot at escaping this lecture. It’s probably slim and definitely not in my favor.