One Bossy Date – Bossy Seattle Suits Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
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“Eh, if it’s fake, we’d better see those actors in Hollywood. And think about what did go wrong in Lanai,” she reminds me.

Fair point.

My phone rings and I glance at the screen. “Speak of the actual devil. It’s him.”

“Answer it! I want to hear this.”

“I’m not taking that call.” My face heats.

“What if it’s about work?”

Sigh.

I swipe the green icon and press the phone to my burning ear. “Yes?”

“Pippa, where are you? Are you okay—” Brock starts. “I talked to Fyo. He said your dad’s fine and there’s been no change in his condition. So, where the hell have you been?” he asks.

“At the coffee shop with Jenn,” I say numbly.

He goes silent for a moment.

“He hasn’t figured it out yet, has he?” Jenn whispers.

“Are you going to explain why you left without even saying goodbye? I tried calling you all damn day. What happened?” His low growl vibrates through my head.

I’m suddenly afraid to mention Vanessa point-blank, but I don’t have another reason for leaving. “I told you I had to stop by the house, so I left early. And I had work to do,” I lie.

“What work? You could have used my office,” he says, suspicion in his tone. “Piper, what’s really going on?”

“I needed space, okay?” I shriek. “Space to think.”

“Space,” he echoes. I imagine him shaking his head and scowling. “Goddammit, Piper, tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?”

I don’t want to tell him the truth.

“Did you really think you’d get away with it forever? Are you flipping serious? How stupid do you think I am?”

“Get away with what? What are you talking about? Are you on some crazy pills I don’t know about?” he snarls.

I snort into the phone. “That’s rich and very male. If a chick calls you out, she must be nuts. Goodbye.”

“Goddamn you, wait!” he barks, and I pause. “Why am I an asshole again?”

I slump down in my seat, straining for words.

“Brock, just stop. It’s game over and I know about her. But if it makes you feel better, she’s probably still in the dark. You’re golden there.”

“She?” The word sounds like thunder.

“Vanessa. She said she’s really happy you’re in her life, so... I won’t keep you guys. Ciao!”

“What the fuck? You were—peeping around in my phone after I fell asleep? That’s fucking low.”

For a second, I whip my head away from Jenn, tears stinging my eyes.

It hurts hearing him so angry. Even if he’s the whole reason we’re so damaged.

“I didn’t snoop. For some unholy reason, a billionaire CEO is too stupid to use a lock screen! I picked it up thinking it was mine. The messages were just right there. But if you didn’t have a—a Vanessa, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Vanessa is none of your goddamned business,” he grinds out.

“Cool.” I cut the call there before I burst into ugly tears.

“That sounded brutal. Are you okay?” Jenn asks softly, reaching across the table for my hand.

I shake my head. “He’s not even sorry.”

“He’s sorry he got caught, you mean. Typical rich prick.” Her face screws up with disgust.

“I don’t know, Jenn. I feel like someone just carved out my insides and left them on the side of the road.”

“You don’t need him. It probably feels like you do right now, but you don’t. You were happy before you met him.”

“Then why do I feel like death?”

“It’s just the shock. Pippa, you’ll be fine.”

I pick up the phone again so I don’t have to see her pitiful looks.

“What are you doing?” Jenn hisses.

I smile. “I’m going to be brave and deliver the bad news. Someone should do it, and he already hates me.”

She watches in horror while I try to call back.

The jackass doesn’t pick up.

“No answer. I’ll try texting,” I say.

Piper: Just thought you should know the Winthrope Scottsdale went viral. Don’t worry. I’m on it. I’m not sure Vanessa can help with these things, but you still have me for that. For now.

Brock: Vanessa doesn’t stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.

Piper: Sounds like a “her” problem. You’re welcome, asshat.

I shove my phone down and look at Jenn. “Any chance I can bum a ride home? I need to crawl into bed and die.”

“Sure, but Winthrope isn’t worth dying over. You’ve got ten thousand other guys in this city who’ll treat you better.”

Right. Because billionaire beast-men who come rushing to my family’s rescue grow on trees.

“I hope you’re right. At least if Dad comes back a whole new person, the money pressure won’t be there anymore,” I say.

“You’ll travel the world and kick so many asses on the way,” she says, lifting her cup in a mock salute. “I’ll bring you home and stay for lunch. My treat.”

She’s trying so hard to help it hurts.

I feel ungrateful, but I know she can never fill the Brock-shaped hole in my heart.


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