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

by Harloe Rae

  Vince’s glower doesn’t lift. “Tell the dude to cool it, yeah?”

  “Absolutely. He’ll be getting reprimanded shortly.” That’s the appropriate way to describe my revenge.

  “Is there a plan in motion to remove all that? There have been countless complaints already.”

  I bob my head. “Yes, it’s my top priority.”

  “Good, I’m glad we’ve settled that.” He relaxes in his seat, the leather creaking in earnest. “How’s Landon Winters?”

  Cocky as ever, and a massive pain in my ass. I mask my sneer with a tight smile. “Fine, I think. He’s been quiet today.”

  He jabs a finger onto his desk. “Fine doesn’t cut it, Vannah. You better make sure he’s doing damn great.”

  I exhale through flaring nostrils. That man is going to be buying me veneers for all the grinding I’m doing. His name alone makes my jaw ache. “I’ll check in with him once the flowers and such are handled.”

  “Last I heard, he’s very pleased with your progress so far.”

  Surprise punches me in the sternum and I nearly gasp. Did he actually say that? I can’t imagine Landon providing positive feedback on anything, let alone me. “That’s comforting.”

  It really isn’t. Quite the opposite, if I’m being honest. Suspicion—my trusted confidant—huddles on the bench, waiting to be called forward. I make a mental note to predict his strategy if there’s hope to stay ahead. It’s clear he’s not above resorting to manipulation tactics.

  A breath that’s plump with relief deflates Vince’s rigid posture. “I won’t lie to you, Vannah. This entire situation makes me itchy.”

  Oh, shit. That expletive might as well be on a constant loop at the rate I’m using it. My grin remains plastered in place as I feign ignorance like a puffy cloud on the verge of a storm. “Why’s that, sir?”

  “Landon Winters isn’t some average Joe we’ve gained from a cold call. He’s capable of destroying us with a flick of his pinky finger.”

  I squint at him. “But you just said he’s pleased.”

  He shrugs, dusting some lint from his suit jacket. “For now. A man like him can change his mind for no reason at all. His satisfaction can be fleeting.”

  His lack of faith in me stings, but I don’t expose such a downfall. “I can assure you that his account is being handled with the utmost care. He’s going to keep coming back for more.”

  His expression brightens. “That sounds promising. I knew putting you on this case would pay off.”

  The cramp in my chest loosens with his praise. “You can count on me.”

  “And I do. We have a lot riding on this,” Vince reminds me. “See to it that Landon remains happy.”

  The corners of my lips curl with conviction. “Oh, I will.”

  Just as I click send on my latest email, a telltale hum from the intercom speaker precedes my assistant’s intrusion. It’s almost like he knows when I have a second to spare.

  My cousin clears his throat, ensuring he has my attention. “Sir?”

  Always with the formalities. At least he didn’t just barge in. I scrub over my forehead. “What is it, Walt?”

  “Your eleven o’clock is here.”

  A glance at my inbox shows fifty unread messages that demand attention. “Who is it again?”

  His tapping echoes through the speaker. “Ms. Leer. You added her to the calendar yesterday.”

  Tar fills my gut at the reminder. This nobody managed to convince me that she deserves a conversation—in person. It had been the lesser of two evils at that moment. She caught me while I’d been balancing a dozen things at once. That’ll teach me to multitask on a more basic level.

  I’d usually pass her off to a lowly lackey, and still can. She insisted on meeting with me, but so does every other business owner with a dream of expanding. Persistence can earn rewards, and it just so happened to pay off for her.

  “Let her in,” I instruct.

  This shouldn’t take longer than five minutes. Maybe ten, if she’s prepared a decent speech to accompany a legitimate investment opportunity.

  Not thirty seconds later, a buxom blonde struts into my office. She has ‘nuisance’ written all over her designer dress that’s three inches shorter than most would deem professionally appropriate. A sigh coated in exasperation streams from my lips as she lowers onto a chair, giving me an intentional peek between her thighs.

  The urge to kick her out before she even begins singes my tongue.

  “I appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to see me.” Her voice carries a smokey edge that I’m sure is meant to be enticing.

  She’s beautiful in the most obvious sense. Her smooth curves and long legs pair well with alluring facial features. The entire package she boasts probably turns most heads fast enough to cause a neck cramp. Unfortunately for her, I could teach a course on the art of seduction. A man doesn’t sit on a throne without being propositioned on the regular. I’m already peeling away her outer layers to snuff out the tried-and-true strategy underneath.

  I was in a generous mood when she called to secure a slot in my schedule. In the twenty-some hours since speaking with Ms. Leer, my opinion on the matter has significantly darkened. Agreeing to this shit was a horrible waste of time. But she’s already here.

  “Ms. Leer—”

  The blonde holds up a finger and winks. “Chanda, please.”

  “All right, Chanda.” That’s a stage name if I’ve ever heard one. “My time is very valuable. Don’t waste it.”

  “I plan to make every second count.” Then she dips forward, offering me a blatant view of her cleavage. She isn’t the first woman to use her assets as an advantage. Those traits won’t suffice in baiting me.

  An image of Vannah pulling this same stunt flashes through my mind. The big difference is that I was actually tempted to bite with the fiery redhead. “Give me your pitch.”

  She licks along her glossy bottom lip, nibbling at the corner. “I have an ample idea that’s ready to spread wide.”

  My interest is long gone. Not that much existed to begin with. “Spit it out.”

  “Wouldn’t you prefer I swallow?” Her mouth forms a tiny circle, and she sucks in a deep breath.

  And just like that, she’s officially crossed into dangerous territory.

  Red flags whip against my skin, lashing from all directions as I maintain a neutral expression. Sour acid gurgles in my stomach. I want to deal with her less than a root canal sans Novocain, but I’m fucking stuck.

  I need to tread carefully in this situation to avoid legal repercussions. A single wrong word could land me in a very sticky spot. “I’m only interested in hearing about your business.”

  “How about I show you instead? Performing is my specialty.” She scoots to the edge of her seat. The suggestion hangs in a putrid cloud between us.

  I slice a palm through the air. “That’s enough.”

  Chanda’s entire demeanor flips on a sharp axis. Gone are the overt and lewd mannerisms. Now she slouches against the chair with a huff, appearing bored. “Listen, buddy. I don’t mean to prematurely burst your roleplay bubble, but this is getting weird for me. Can we just fuck and be done with this?”

  A whoosh steals all other sounds in the room as her purpose is made clear. Every part of my body locks up, flexing against the unwanted onslaught. It’s not my intention to give this chick a reaction, but certain circumstances can’t be controlled. This is most definitely one of them.

  “There’s been a misunderstanding.” Keeping my voice tempered takes Herculean strength.

  The woman’s face puckers tighter than a virgin asshole. “I don’t believe so. The lady who set this up gave me very specific instructions.”

  Pieces notch together in my mind with a hollow clank. “I bet she did. Your services won’t be needed.”

  “No refunds.” Her tone is frigid, matching the ice glittering from her eyes.

  My chuckle pangs off the tension crackling around the room. “H
ow shocking.”

  She sticks her nose up in order to look down on me. “It’s not my fault you’re a stiff.”

  For a brief moment, I wonder if she’s related to Vannah. They’re cut from the same snarky cloth. “Insults are entirely unnecessary. We’re both victims of this scam.”

  It’s her turn to laugh. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you wanna believe, big boss.”

  A snarl rumbles in my chest. I get to stew in humiliation. She gets to walk away with a paycheck regardless of my rejection. “You need to vacate the premises immediately.”

  “With pleasure.” She slams my door on her way out.

  “Good riddance,” I mutter to the dust cloud she left behind.

  The incomplete checkpoints from my morning rundown mock me, but that list is already fading into the background. Dealing with the instigator takes precedence. I consider sending an email, but HR would have a field day combing through this conversation. The last thing I want is the board catching wind of this. They don’t need more evidence against me.

  I snag my phone and scroll to Vannah’s number, punching at the screen hard enough to crack the glass.

  Me: You hired a hooker!!!

  The two additional exclamation marks might be overkill, but I want my point to come across. The phone creaks in my palm as I wait for her response.

  Savannah: ???

  Me: YOU SENT A PROSTITUTE TO MY OFFICE!

  If that doesn’t get my fury across, I’m not sure what will.

  Savannah: No, I didn’t.

  Me: Don’t fuck with me, Savannah.

  Savannah: I wouldn’t dare.

  Me: The fuck you wouldn’t.

  Savannah: Someone sure put you in a foul mood.

  Me: Does the name Chanda Leer ring a bell?

  Savannah: As in a fancy lamp?

  I hang my head as shame washes over me. This was a setup from the instant that woman contacted me yesterday.

  Me: She told me a lady sent her with specific instructions, which included some resistance roleplay.

  Savannah: Sounds kinky.

  When her most recent quip comes through, I’m aiming to chuck my phone at the wall. I have rules against fucking the same woman more than once. Savannah Simons has already fucked me twice without removing a single article of clothing—or touching me, for that matter. That fact would impress me if my veins weren’t currently being pumped full of molten rage. She can try beating me at my own game, but I refuse to be defeated. This only solidifies my resolve to screw her over harder.

  This superficial contact isn’t direct enough for my unraveling state. I swipe over and hit dial, tapping my foot to an erratic beat while the connection is made. It rings twice before she accepts.

  “Hello, Lannie.” The laughter in her voice is more potent than gasoline on an already raging fire.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” The seethe bellows from my throat, clawing its way out from the very depths of me. I’m not in my finest form at the moment, but she deserves this wrath.

  Vannah whistles long and low. “That’s a loaded question. You’re at the root of it all, though.”

  “Are you actually trying to lose your job?” I can’t just let this go. Retaliation will taste sweet regardless of how I deliver it.

  “There you go again with the empty threats.”

  “This isn’t a joke.” I slam a fist against my desk. “You arranged for a hooker to proposition me while I’m at work.”

  She scoffs. “That’s a tad presumptuous. I don’t recall admitting to any such thing.”

  “Savannah,” I growl.

  “Lannie,” she hisses.

  I glare out the window, finding no comfort in the picturesque view. “Afraid of the ramifications? Just confess.”

  “Oh, calm down,” Vannah chides. “She’s an actress. There were never any real sexpectations. Unless she wants to sleep with you, but I didn’t pay for that. Tell Chanda I say hello. Girl power!”

  Pressure pulses against my temples. “You think this is funny?”

  “Extremely.” The word rolls from her tongue in a purr.

  “I could get in deep shit if someone found out what she was suggesting.” Revealing any weakness to her is probably a fatal error.

  “Aren’t you the CEO?”

  “That doesn’t make me bulletproof.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” she muses.

  “Where did you meet someone willing to pull such a hoax? Accosting me in such a manner could get her arrested.”

  “She’s a friend from college, and a total pro. Impressed?”

  “No,” I grunt.

  “Liar.”

  “Wicked.”

  “Vengeful.”

  “Stubborn,” I spit.

  “We could go around in circles for hours,” Vannah sighs. “I made her sign an NDA. Don’t fret your gel-slicked head.”

  I run my fingers through my hair, musing the style into utter disarray. “Those contracts aren’t ironclad.”

  “You can argue with my father about that.” Her snippy retort suggests I don’t.

  “Oh, right. He’s a lawyer.” I shake this digression off. “If you’re trying to absolve yourself, it’s not working.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” The humor returns to her tone.

  The twinkling sound eases the coil cinching around my torso. “Those are reserved for fantasies of me.”

  “Now who’s regurgitating old material?”

  That reminds me of who I’m dealing with. “It bears repeating, for your sake.”

  “If you’re trying to give me nightmares,” she counters.

  “That’s an intriguing option to consider.” I recline in my chair, reveling in a much-needed pause. “I haven’t decided how I’ll return the favor, but it’s not going to be pretty.”

  Vannah hums. “Good, because I’m stocked up on flowers and candy for the next year.”

  The girl is too damn quick. This is an uphill battle that I’m not in the right mindset for. She’s whooping my ass and proving her tenacity in the same breath. I’m willing to bet her pulse is calm and resting, completely unaffected as I lose every ounce of cool. I can’t seem to regain my footing.

  Vannah’s toe is damn close to crossing a line she can’t retreat from. Upping the stakes could land me in legal trouble. I do an inventory on my ammunition against her. A particular memory floats forward. She hit on me at Josh’s wedding. Attraction doesn’t disappear, try as she might to deny it. There’s no stronger weapon than one aimed straight for the heart.

  It seems a trip to the Twin Cities might just be in order. Again. I wasn’t planning on returning to Minnesota until a damn good reason presented itself. She just gave me one.

  I scrub over my mouth, hiding my smirk from absolutely no one. “You’ve been a great sport, but that’s all for now.”

  “Quitting so soon? All that huffing and puffing must be tiring.”

  “Don’t worry about me. We’re just getting to the good shit.” The oath rushes through my veins, penetrating into bone and marrow like an unbreakable vow.

  Vannah is quiet for long enough that it would seem the call has been lost. But she’s not one to surrender the final word without a fight. “How does this end, Lannie?”

  A familiar thrum sparks at the knowledge that this battle has yet to be won. “With one of us as the victor.”

  “And the other?”

  “A sore loser, I assume. Unless you’re prepared to accept my proposition. Then we could take turns winning.”

  Her scoff is telling enough. “I’m pretty sure the odds are stacked against me.”

  “How so? I’m willing to give you a head start.” She doesn’t need to know I’m referring to an orgasm count.

  “That sounds too messy.”

  “Call this whatever you’d like then. You’ll be the one licking your wounds.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “And I’ll be seeing you soon, sugar.”

  A throaty laugh cares
ses my ear. “I look forward to it.”

  Clea glances at me over the rim of her martini glass, similar to how she’s been studying me since we sat down ten minutes ago. “I can’t believe you sicced Sasha on him.”

  I divulged my latest strike against Landon at the earliest opportunity. That’s a decision I’m regretting right about now. “Genius, right?”

  “That’s one word for it.” Clea shares a look with Presley, who only shrugs in return.

  She’s choosing to remain neutral while taking advantage of her rare escape from poopy diapers and deafening wails. With a long exhale, she treats herself to another stuffed olive from our appetizer platter. My other friend doesn’t share the same motivations.

  I return her unflinching stare. “Sasha is harmless. How much damage could she really do in five minutes?”

  Clea smiles at that. “No more than you.”

  “Only when necessary evil is required.”

  “This is going beyond your civic duty.” Her concern is coming from a good place, but it grates on my raw nerves, nonetheless.

  The condensation rolling down my glass is suddenly very riveting. “I’ve lost sight of my original goal, but this twist should render the same results.”

  Her disappointment leaks across the table with a huff. “That’s terrifying in a diabolical sense. Maybe you should back off.”

  I snap my eyes up to her expectant gaze. “And let him win?”

  Clea thrusts an arm toward me. “What is he winning?”

  “The freedom to continue treating people like crap.” The grind in my voice carries across the bar, revealing my mounting frustration.

  “That’s their fault for letting him.” Her point is valid, much to my dismay.

  I swirl my cocktail, hypnotized by the deep orange liquid. “I’m sinking too deep, my friend. It’s difficult to see an exit route that doesn’t involve gouging him at least a little bit.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve already succeeded in doing that.”

  “He barely felt a sting,” I assure.

  Clea shakes her head. “I don’t like what this rivalry is doing to you.”