Hate Notes: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy, page 15
Orion's lips twitched as he studied his menu. "I like him for a reason."
"I'm starting to see why," I muttered, hiding behind my own menu while trying not to think about that night at his mom's. Or how his eyes had darkened when I'd called him daddy. Or how much I wanted to see that look again.
"So," Jessica said, finally putting her phone away. "How exactly did you two meet? Orion's usually allergic to office romance from what Colton tells me."
"Oh, we're not..." I started.
"It's complicated," Orion finished.
Colton and Jessica exchanged knowing looks.
"Ember used to deliver hate mail to him," Colton offered helpfully. "Now she just drives him crazy in other ways. From the sounds of it, Orion is hardly even getting hate notes anymore. When he does, the CEO of the company has personally been delivering them because Orion resorted to bribing everybody she sends his way."
"Those notes were pretty creative," I said, trying to keep things light. "My favorite was the one about his tie collection being alphabetized by shade. Or maybe the terminator sex dream, actually."
"It's not alphabetized," Orion said stiffly. "It's organized by color value and occasion."
The three of us stared at him.
"That was a joke," he added.
"Was it though?" Colton asked.
"I've seen his closet," I said. "It definitely wasn't a joke."
Jessica's perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. "You've been in his bedroom?"
"No!" I said quickly. "Not his current closet, I mean. I saw his childhood closet, which is still organized like he had it as a kid with small suits, ties, and slacks. His mom was showing me baby pictures and his old room was—"
"You showed her the hula hoop photos?" Colton interrupted, delighted. "Remmy said you threatened to disown her if she ever mentioned those."
"I did no such thing. I simply suggested that certain childhood activities were better left in the past. And I showed her nothing. That was my meddling mother and little sister."
"He was apparently quite talented with that hula-hoop," I stage-whispered to Jessica. "Could keep it going for hours."
A surprised chuckle escaped Orion. The sound did something warm and fluttery to my chest.
"Good to know he has that kind of stamina," Jessica said with a wink.
I felt my cheeks heat as the server returned with our drinks. Orion's thigh pressed against mine under the table, and I wasn't sure if it was accidental or deliberate. Either way, it was distracting.
"Speaking of stamina," Colton said, "remember that time in college when—"
"No college stories," Orion cut in.
"But they're the best stories!"
"I want to hear college stories," I said, leaning forward eagerly.
"You really don't," Orion said, but his voice held an unfamiliar note of warmth.
The conversation flowed easily after that, helped along by Colton's natural charm and Jessica's surprisingly sharp wit. I learned that Orion and Colton had been roommates, that Orion had briefly considered becoming an architect before a particular business professor changed his plans entirely. I also learned that he’d once gotten so drunk he tried to organize a stranger's garage at 3 AM.
"He just couldn't help himself," Colton said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The poor woman found him categorizing her holiday decorations by season and size."
"It was inefficiently stored," Orion muttered, but I caught him fighting a smile.
I liked this version of him—slightly softer around the edges, actually capable of laughing at himself. It made me want things I shouldn't want. Made me imagine a future where we could have this all the time.
But that future would require honesty. And the time to be honest and come clean had come and gone weeks ago. Every day that passed without me telling the truth turned what might have been a forgivable offense into something more. It felt like rot that was spreading between us, even though Orion didn’t know it was there. When I came clean, he’d look back at all these moments and find them colored black at the edges—tainted by what I hadn’t said.
"Earth to Ember," Colton said, snapping his fingers. "You went somewhere else for a minute there."
"Sorry," I said quickly. "Just thinking about... work stuff."
"Always working," Jessica sighed. "You two are perfect for each other."
I felt Orion's eyes on me but couldn't bring myself to meet them. Instead, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe.
I was fixing my lipstick when Jessica appeared beside me.
"He likes you," she said, touching up her own already-perfect makeup. "I've known Orion for years. Colton and I have dated off and on, and I’ve seen Orion at various points along his journey to full work robot. I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you.”
"It's not that simple," I said.
"It never is." She capped her lipstick and turned to me. "But sometimes the complicated things are worth figuring out."
I thought about that as we walked back to the table. Orion stood automatically when we approached—of course he did—and pulled out my chair. As I sat, his fingers brushed my shoulder, sending electricity down my spine.
"Everything okay?" he asked quietly.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. Because the truth was, everything wasn't okay. I was falling for him—had already fallen for him—and I had no idea how to stop it.
Or if I even wanted to.
27
ORION
“Wow,” Ember said as she watched me slide a key into the elevator control panel. The key allowed me to lift a small metal latch that covered a button at the top labeled with a “P”. “That’s fancy.”
“Is it?” I asked, grinning. I had never really thought too hard about it.
The elevator smoothly began its ascent.
“I’m guessing that means this elevator opens directly to your apartment? Yeah. That’s fancy. What do you do if somebody is in here when you want to go home? What if they refuse to get off on their floor and ride right to your place?”
“I would glare them into submission.”
Ember shot me a surprised look. “Was that a joke, Mr. Foster?”
“A poor attempt, yes.”
“I liked it,” she said, smiling and leaning in as she wrapped her arms around my bicep, laying her head on my shoulder. “I like it when you’re not so serious all the time.”
I cleared my throat, looking for a way to change the subject as the elevator seemed to crawl toward my apartment. “I should warn you about my cat,” I said slowly. “He’s… unique. And don’t be offended if he only glares at you from the shadows. He likes to do that to intimidate people.”
“You have a cat? Somehow I can’t picture that.”
“Yeah,” I said, stepping forward when the elevator doors opened to my apartment. “It was Remmy’s fault. She gifted him to me, giving me no choice.”
“Ah,” she said, glancing around my penthouse apartment. I found myself seeing it through her eyes—stark, modern, everything in its place. Almost sterile, really. The only signs of actual life were Goblin's cat tower by the window and his water fountain near the kitchen.
"Very you," she said with a small smile. "Though I expected more spreadsheets on the walls."
“Not in the living room,” I said. “I hang those in my home office.”
She looked at me over her shoulder, lips curving into another smile as her eyes searched me. “Another joke?”
“Yes…” I said slowly. That one hadn’t actually been a joke. I really did like to post certain documents to the wall in my home office for easy access and reminders of goals.
I shouldn't have invited her up. The smart thing would have been to say goodnight after dinner. But something about the way she'd looked in the soft restaurant lighting, her cheeks flushed from wine and laughter, had made me want to stretch the evening longer.
Now she was wandering my living room, running her fingers along my bookshelves, and I couldn't stop staring at her. The sapphire blue dress she'd worn to dinner hugged every curve, and her dark hair fell in soft waves down her back. But it was more than that. There was something almost luminous about her tonight, as if getting to know the real me had made her shine brighter somehow.
Or was it that this new me was better able to see and appreciate her for what she was?
"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, and I turned to find Goblin had materialized on the back of my sofa, studying her with his usual disdain. "He looks like Catman's evil twin."
"Goblin is many things, but evil twin implies there's a good twin somewhere."
She laughed, holding out her hand for Goblin to sniff. To my shock, he immediately headbutted her palm, purring.
"Traitor," I muttered in disbelief.
"He knows I speak cat," she said, scratching under his chin. "Don't you, handsome boy?"
"He's hardly handsome.”
"Hey now," she protested. "Some of us appreciate unique beauty. Look at those extra toes! And those wrinkles! He's perfect."
I watched her coo over my supposedly terrifying cat, something warm and dangerous expanding in my chest. "You're the first person besides me he's ever liked."
"Really?" She looked pleased. "Maybe he can sense I have an ancient, possibly immortal cat of my own. Maybe that’s why Catman was nice to you, too. He sensed you had your own little beast at home."
"About that… How old is Catman exactly?"
"Nobody knows," she said seriously. "He might have witnessed the birth of civilization. He might be older than time itself. Or he might just be a really old regular cat who likes to act mysterious."
I found myself smiling. "You're ridiculous."
"Says the man who organizes stranger's garages when drunk."
"That was one time."
"That we know of,” she said with a smirk. She wandered over to my window, looking out at the city lights. "With a view like this, I don’t know if I’d ever leave home."
I moved to stand beside her, close enough to smell her perfume. The now-familiar scent made me want to bury my face in her neck, kissing her and basking in that scent that was so uniquely her.
“Yeah,” she said. “I can see how a place like this would almost make up for your odd personality traits.”
"Almost?" I asked.
She turned to face me, and suddenly we were inches apart. "Well," she said softly, "you'd have to do something pretty spectacular to make up for alphabetizing your ties."
"They're organized by color value and occasion," I corrected automatically, earning another of those laughs that seemed to light her up from within.
"Of course they are." She bit her lip, studying me. "You know, you're different tonight. More... real."
"Is that good or bad?"
"Good," she said quickly. "Definitely good. I like seeing this side of you."
"You seem to bring it out of me, whether I like it or not," I admitted. “It’s concerning.”
"Concerning because I'm your employee?" she asked, turning back to the window.
"That's part of it." I watched her reflection in the glass, the way the city lights played across her face. "Though I'm starting to think that's the least complicated aspect of whatever this is between us."
She tensed slightly. "What do you mean?"
"Just that there are things..." I trailed off, thinking about Davenport's properties, about the legal loophole that would give us ownership when he died. About how attached she was growing to the old man's vision. "Things that make this inadvisable."
"Oh." She wrapped her arms around herself. “I understand.”
Something in her tone made me look at her sharply. "Ember—"
"I should probably go," she said quickly. "It's late, and we both have work tomorrow."
I had said something wrong, though I couldn’t guess what. The way she withdrew so suddenly made me feel as though I had accidentally pressed a sensitive button within her, something that couldn’t be easily undone. But how the hell had so few, seemingly innocent words done so much damage?
It was frustrating, and I found myself retreating to my own professionalism. Work and business were shields I could put up. They were tools to separate myself from all these messy fucking emotions and landmines I never saw coming.
“You’re right,” I said. “It’s very late. Let me call you a car.”
"No need. I can walk. It's a nice night."
"It's almost midnight. I'm calling you a car."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, Sir, Mr. Foster."
The formality stung after the intimacy of the evening. I watched her say goodbye to Goblin, who actually meowed in protest when she stopped petting him.
"Told you he likes me," she said, but her usual playfulness felt forced.
"Ember," I said as she reached the door. "Tonight was..."
"Complicated?" she offered.
"I was going to say nice."
"That too." She hesitated, then added softly, "Thank you for letting me meet your friend. And Goblin. And... this version of you."
"Thank you for making me want to be this version."
Something flickered in her eyes—regret maybe, or longing. Then she was gone, leaving only the ghost of her perfume and the memory of how right she'd looked in my space.
Goblin jumped onto the kitchen counter and stared.
I sighed. “How did I manage to fuck that up so thoroughly?”
I loosened my tie and poured myself a drink - something I rarely did this late. But tonight had shaken something loose in me. Seeing Ember with Colton and Jessica, watching her charm my best friend and his date, had made me imagine possibilities I had no business considering.
I could picture her here, curled up on my couch with Goblin. Could see her adding touches of warmth to my stark apartment, drawing me out of my carefully constructed shell like she'd been doing since the day she walked into my life with her stack of hate notes.
But I also remembered her face when Davenport talked about preserving his legacy. How passionate she was about honoring the history of those buildings.
She would never forgive me when she learned the truth.
Better to keep my distance. Better to maintain professional boundaries and ignore the way she made me want to tear down every wall I'd built.
My phone buzzed with a text from Colton.
Colton: She's good for you, man. Don't fuck it up.
Too late, I thought, tossing back my drink.
I was already fucking it up by wanting things I couldn't have. By letting her make me feel things I had no business feeling.
Tomorrow, I decided, we would go back to normal. Back to boss and employee. Back to safe distance and professional boundaries.
It was better that way.
28
EMBER
Orion's scowl could have frozen hell this morning. I happened to be at the office extra early to get my badges updated at the front desk, which meant I caught a front-row seat to Patricia Rosh reading Orion three particularly vicious hate notes. Orion’s jaw seemed to tick with each word, which was odd, because he usually seemed mostly unfazed by the contents of the notes.
Orion’s cold aura had followed him up the elevator and to the office floor. I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt it, as the office had a hushed, oppressed atmosphere.
Last night already felt like a dream. The way he'd smiled, laughed, let me see behind his walls... It made this morning's arctic front even harder to bear.
"God, he's in a mood," Julian muttered as he passed my desk. "What did you do to him?"
"Nothing," I said quickly. Too quickly.
Julian raised his eyebrows but wisely chose not to comment.
I turned back to my work, trying to focus on client emails instead of remembering how Orion had looked in his apartment last night—tie loosened, shadows playing across his perfect features as he showed me the view from his window. Standing next to him, seeing our reflections side by side, the differences had been stark. He was all clean lines and perfection, while I...
Well. I wasn't Jessica with her perfect hair and sculpted body. Men like Colton and Orion probably had perfectly crafted women like Jessica lining up for a chance to be with them. Even if the stars somehow aligned and Orion wanted to be with me, how long would it be before another “Jessica” came along and showed me up? It was like Kylie and Cole all over again.
"Miss Hartwell."
I jumped at Orion's voice. He stood by my desk, looking every inch the untouchable CEO. No trace remained of the man who'd smiled at me in his apartment last night.
"Yes, Mr. Foster?"
"I need your latest work on Davenport. Bring everything you have to my office. Now.”
He turned and walked away without waiting for a response. Right. Back to business as usual.
I gathered the files and followed him, painfully aware of the curious eyes tracking our movement. The office rumor mill had been working overtime since the charity gala. I think some gossip had even spread after our not-so-veiled date last night, though I had no idea how anybody had heard about it.
"Close the door," he said when I entered.
I did, then stood awkwardly holding the files. This was the first time we'd been alone since last night, and the air felt charged with everything we weren't saying.
"Well?" he prompted.
Right. Files. Work. Professional distance.
I set them on his desk and began my report, keeping my voice carefully neutral as I detailed Davenport's latest requests. Orion listened with that impenetrable mask in place, asking the occasional clipped question.
This was worse than when we'd first met. At least then he'd shown emotion, even if it was mostly irritation. This complete shutdown felt personal.
"Is that all?" I asked when I finished.
"For now." He was already looking at his computer screen, dismissing me.
Something in me snapped.
"Actually," I said, "there's something I need to tell you."
His fingers stilled on his keyboard. "I thought we agreed to keep things professional."
