One Bossy Offer (77)

That’s a freaking understatement.

Just how close was Miles to my grandmother? How did she ever stand him?

“Okay, well, I’m glad that’s cleared up,” I lie. “Thank you.”

Now I cut the call.

Wow.

Wowww.

I don’t know whether to be touched or freaked out that Gram basically wanted to force the prince of arrogance into my life.

For what?

It’s like some quirky rom-com setup, but without the effort a man makes to win the leading lady over and fix everything.

Sighing, I push the button for the elevator and step inside.

So, I’ll admit he might have good intentions—sometimes? Maybe?—but he’s no romantic. How did Gram think he was someone worth—worth what?

Worth knowing?

We can check that one off the list.

Besides some quick cash, I’m not sure what I’ve gained by knowing him.

Befriending? After some of the stunts he’s pulled, I don’t want to be friends.

Becoming more?

Yeah, no. That ended with the gravity-defying sex I hate that I still have stuck in my head.

He flat-out told me it was a mistake, and honestly, he was right.

I’m still seething at the thought and snickering bitterly to myself when the elevator doors open and I step out.

It’s a hard truth to choke down, but at least I know where we stand.

My choices are either keep living next to him, or abandon ship and sell, giving Miles Cromwell what he’s been angling for this whole time.

My phone dings.

Speak of the literal devil.

Miles: Status update, please. I need to know where we’re at.

My fingers fly over the screen, typing.

I sent it to Louise on my way in. Ask her.

A few more texts ping, but I ignore them, diving into my work instead. The sooner this gets done, the faster I’ll be through with him.

About an hour later, though, he starts blowing up my Inbox.



Jenn,

Are we not speaking again?

Can you write two pillar articles rebutting the claims in the Pacific-Resolute piece? I’m confident you’ve read it by now.

Once you’ve done that, have it posted immediately. I’ll have creative structure all their social media posts around it.

Yours,

M. Cromwell



“Ignore him,” I hiss to myself.

And I do for the next half hour, reading over the article draft from our writers, which Sarah spent all night tightening up in edits.

I happily send back my approval before I respond to Dracula.



It’s on its way to publication as we speak.

We’re still talking, but only about business. I’m not so petty I’d freeze you out when we’re in crisis mode, Miles.

I’m earning my keep with the company. Just not with you.

Never yours again,

Jennifer



But as the email goes out, there’s no relief.

As soon as the panic push ends, we’re right back to square one.

I’m more confused than ever, and I can’t help wondering how much more he’ll destroy my life before he’s gone.





16





No Backing Down (Miles)





Mission accomplished.

If there was an award for slinging great content under a mountain of crushing pressure, my team would have it.

Before the hefty bonuses arrive on their next paycheck, I start showing my gratitude with a catered breakfast in the conference room from the finest café in town.

But first, they deserve a few words.

A few more than the rundown I sent everyone by email this morning, explaining the plot against Pinnacle Pointe without directly calling out Pacific-Resolute.

I walk to the front of the room and clear my throat.

“I want to thank you, everyone, on behalf of myself and Mayor Johnson of Pinnacle Pointe. The content you’ve posted may well save this town from years of distress. You crushed every turnaround time and exceeded all expectations. You’re the heroes of Cromwell-Narada. So go ahead. Stand tall and be proud of this company, and prouder of your work.” I pause while applause rattles around me. “There’s also one woman I have to thank individually. Without her, I doubt we would’ve pulled this miracle off on the same grand scale. We’ll get to that in a moment, though.

“You’ll be pleased to know I had several reports commissioned addressing the real crime situation in Pinnacle Pointe. Real facts, not fluff. The hit piece was worse than dishonest. It was entirely circumstantial. Our rebuttal focuses on genuine problems and solutions, with input from the local mayor and sheriff. Another interesting fact we learned in our research—there’s no record of Jessica King anywhere in Pinnacle Pointe. The attack article shamelessly used a fabricated source.”

A few gasps ring out.

Smokey Dave swears under his breath. “Dude. Not cool.”

“There’ll be a time to address that later. For now, Jennifer Landers, will you please stand up? You saved a lot of asses, and I’d like to lead the next round of applause.”

She stands, wearing snug black slacks and a blouse with a slit in each arm.

Goddamn.

This woman could show up decked out like a rodeo clown and I’d still be captivated.