The Billionaire Boss Next Door(82)

One Trent to support; one to impress.

There’s more at stake than a job now.

Now…it’s a job and my heart.




When we break for lunch, I’m on top of the world. Both Trents have been smiling at me all morning as I go over all of the proposed designs and elements unique to this space.

Tony, Marcus, Sarah, George, and I, we’re a well-oiled machine thanks to Junior’s new and improved leadership skills, and I can’t imagine the presentation we threw together for Senior going any better.

It is dazzling and innovative, and it makes me excited to spend the next six months making it all come to life before the opening.

I’m packing up my briefcase to head to lunch at Coastal Crepes—the secret location Trent texted me to meet him fifteen minutes ago—when I remember that I left one of my sketches down in the lobby where we stopped last with Senior.

It’s in the direction of the exit and I don’t want to forget it, so I decide to stop and get it on my way out of the building.

Down six flights from the lounge area and through the winding halls that confused me so much on the first day, I’m a few steps from the lobby when I hear Trent Senior’s voice.

When I hear my Trent say something in return, I freeze on the spot so that I don’t interrupt their conversation.

“You’re doing a good job here, Trent,” Senior says, and I can’t help but smile. I know how rocky their relationship has been and what doing a good job means to Trent. Hearing praise from his dad has to make him feel so good. “The staff respects you. I can tell you’ve won them over and they’re working hard. You’re keeping the timeline tight, and the jobsite looks good and clean. All in all, I’m impressed with what you’ve done down here.”

I bite my lip to stop myself from squealing for my guy. He has worked hard, and he deserves to hear it from his father.

“Thanks, Dad. It’s really been a team effort.”

“I’m sure it has,” Senior confirms. “Hotels always are.”

Trent hums his agreement, and I go from ecstatic to impatient. Okay, boys, enough back-patting. Let’s move this thing along.

I’m about to come out of hiding to give them a reason to wrap it up when Senior speaks again.

“As for the design…”

Ooh, that’s me. My ears perk up, and I lean in to listen harder.

“She’s missing the mark.”

What?

“I don’t say this often, but I think my initial instinct about her was wrong.”

My chest pounds and my ears roar, and oh my God, I think I might throw up.

“What?” Trent asks, and I’m nodding like a fucking lunatic over here, even though no one can see me.

Which, now that I think about it, thank God no one can see me.

“Some of her design is okay, but she’s too eccentric. Too wordy. She makes everything more complicated than it needs to be.”

There’s a pause. Just long enough to make me stop breathing.

“You should let her go,” Senior orders simply, and a crack forms, right down the middle of me. It’s all I can do to hold it together. But Trent’s going to defend me; I know it.

Sure, that probably won’t change Senior’s opinion of me, and it probably won’t even save my job, but at least it’ll save my soul.

I’m practically clawing at the walls in the moments it takes Trent to answer, but when he does, I hold my breath completely to make sure I don’t miss anything.

“I respect you, Dad. Always have, always will. In the past, you’ve pretty much always been right. In fact, I don’t think I can even remember a time when you’ve been wrong.”

Senior hums.

“So, there’s no reason to think you wouldn’t be now.”

No reason to think you wouldn’t be now.

He’s agreeing with him?

Tears sting my nose, and my gut feels like I’ve been punched in it.

The crack that Senior made is gone, and in its place, everything shatters.

I don’t wait to hear anything else.

I can’t.

Instead, I run.

Far and fast, I get the fuck out of there as quickly as my legs will take me, and I don’t look back.

I had it all right before—before stupid Trent Turner and his stupid green eyes pounded on my door and broke in to my heart.





Trent



“No reason, except the only one that matters.”

My father’s eyebrows go up in challenge, but I hold my ground. There’s no way I’m going to let him come in here, and after one day of being with everyone, presume he knows what’s best for the team. He doesn’t know the dynamic, he doesn’t know the details, he doesn’t know Greer.

“You’re smart and successful, and you built this business on your back,” I continue. “Your legacy is a strong one, so you have to know I wouldn’t disagree with you on this if I didn’t believe so strongly that I should.”

He nods. “I’m listening.”

“Greer is the heart of this place. She’s had brilliant ideas, unbelievable work ethic, and is the reason this team is running so smoothly.”

I swallow, knowing I’m going to have to take another bite of humility and give it to him straight if I have any chance of convincing him. “It was a rocky start. I was headstrong and authoritative and going about it all wrong. Without her steady advice and mediation with the team, we wouldn’t be anywhere near on schedule.”