Page 111 of Bossy Grump


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You don’t have to, the report can wait.

I just wanted to see you.

I glare at the screen, wondering who just typed that. What the hell has she done to me?

Then my phone chimes again.

Okay! Be there soon.

I reply instantly. Don’t. I’m coming home.

And I do, heading downstairs and hopping in the Lincoln, locking eyes with Reese in the mirror.

“Was Paige okay today?” I ask, hating how I can’t even hesitate.

“She’s been a little weird. What did you do to her now?” Reese flings back.

“The whole day? She was fine when I left this morning. You gave her the flowers, right?”

Reese pulls into the street.

“Well, she seemed kinda miffed when she got in the car to go to the conference. I just assumed you were fighting about something. Brandt men do a lot of boneheaded things—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion of me or your—whatever your deal is with my brother,” I snarl.

“Relax! I was mostly talking about Nick...” She clears her throat and looks away quickly, turning red, making me wonder what the hell is up with her and my brother. “Anyhow, she blushed and got excited about the flowers and the cute bear. She loved them. I thought that was that. But when I picked her up, her eyes were red, and she wouldn’t say more than two words.”

“We didn’t fight,” I insist, my hands balling into fists.

Reese laughs. “Someone pissed her off. Lucky it wasn’t you, I guess, because if looks could kill...Paige must have ninja moves.”

“Who?” My question rockets out harsher than I realize.

“Down, boss. Jeez.” Reese holds up her hand. “I don’t know. I told you, she didn’t say anything.”

I sink back against the seat, thoroughly bewildered.

What fucking gives?

Paige is warm, friendly, and always helpful. Who would possibly want to hurt her?

This caveman urge to smash in the face of whoever did her wrong tears through me.

“When I find out, they’re dead,” I grunt, more than half serious.

“Calm down, Rambo-Romeo.” Reese snickers. “Overprotective much?”

I don’t respond.

Soon, the car stops in front of my building and I jump out, almost forgetting my briefcase in the rush to the elevator.

“Paige,” I call as I walk through the door.

When I don’t find her on the couch, I stalk past the wine room, taking a quick glance through the kitchen, then beeline upstairs to my room.

She’s not there.

“Paige!” I call again, my heart hammering louder and meaner with every step.

By the time I rip her guest suite door open, I’ve lost my shit.

Too soon.

She’s flat on her back in bed with her phone hovering in front of her face.

“I thought you were working?” I clear my throat, raking a relieved hand through my hair.

“I finished what I was working on and decided to call it an early night. I like pacing myself sometimes. What are you going to do? Fire me?” She doesn’t even look up.

I laugh because she’s right. I can’t fire her until the engagement shenanigans end. But the oddly deflated aura around her isn’t the Paige Holly I know.

“What’s wrong?”

She casts me a half glance. “Nothing.”

Total bull.

Crossing the room, I flop down next to her. “I left a different girl this morning. What happened to her? Talk to me.”

Sighing, she puts her phone down.

Fuck, Reese was right. Her eyes are red. Irritated. Wounded.

“I just...I met your mom, Ward.”

I do a double take as she nods.

“That’s a rough day,” I growl absently, trying not to launch into the instant anger surge I feel. What the hell did Mother say to her?

Slowly, I trace a puffy eye with my fingertip, cradling her face.

“Did she upset you?” I ask, searching her eyes.

“It’s just allergies,” she lies, strumming the fury vibrating through my veins.

Yeah. If her medical records on file with HR don’t confirm a prescription for an Epi-Pen, Giselle will pay.

“What are you allergic to?”

“Smoke,” she says quietly.

Maybe it is allergies. Partly. My mother always was a walking chimney.

“Where did you run into her? People don’t smoke inside the Palmer House anymore.”

“She’s still technically a Brandt, and before that she was a senator’s daughter, right? She can do whatever.”

My jaw pinches.

That sounds familiar, and not at all like the girl I’m fake-engaged to.

“Shit. So you really did meet my mom—those are her words. Paige, if she’s done something—”

“I’m fine, Ward. She strutted up and sat down right beside me during a break in the panels. She practically blew smoke in my face.”

“Because she thinks we’re engaged?” I guess, shaking my head. “If this goes off the rails, it’s not because we don’t look engaged enough. It’s because my parents could fuck up a billion-dollar lotto win.”

She smiles faintly, her eyes distant.

“That’s the first smile I’ve seen since I got home.” I lean over and kiss her lips. “Don’t let her get to you. She doesn’t have the guts to sabotage what we’re doing. It’s Dad I’m worried about with that bullshit.”

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