One Bossy Disaster Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
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Damn.

She's so sweet it breaks my heart.

Oh, and she’s not finished.

“By the way, guys, in case you don’t know, Destiny’s passion for wildlife conservation is legendary. She’s brave and feisty and so, so smart. Since she’s been a big part of inspiring me to get my crap together, go check out her stuff. It’s not all about the cute animals. Check her stuff out and take this opportunity to see what difference you can make in the world.”

I lean over, beaming at Shepherd. “You know, that gives me an idea to celebrate...”

He groans. “No. We’re not getting involved with birds. I already funded one big search effort, and you’re stuck with Molly and your otters.”

A slightly harassed man in a blazer and rumpled suit checks my mic, making sure it’s attached securely and ready.

Shepherd, beside me, wears one of his customary charcoal suits. Classy and gorgeous and decently intimidating.

“You can’t scowl at her the whole time,” I say.

“I don’t scowl in court.” His brows inch down even lower.

“C’mon, Captain McSnarly, that’s your favorite expression, and this is the court of public opinion.” I preen at him.

Miracle of miracles, he laughs.

“Please try to look friendly,” I tell him. “Be approachable.”

He snorts. “The fact you’re doubting my ability to do either of those things is insulting.”

“Nope, it’s realistic.” I adjust his tie, though it doesn’t need me to. He’s handsome and polished, as always. “I know you, mister.”

“Good. Then you’ll know I’m perfectly capable of being polite—when the occasion demands it.”

Right.

His version of polite is shooting death rays from his eyes.

Vanessa Dumas, of course, likely knows what to expect.

I imagine he was that version of polite with her once, too, back when they were together.

Not together, though.

Not really, I remind myself.

But when he took her places and behaved like they were more than friends, he probably had his professional mask clenched tight.

It’s an attractive mask, for sure, but there’s no way she mistook his professional façade for any sort of feelings. Or even the hint of attraction.

I know him too well by now.

Well enough to be here while we tie up the last loose end in a nice little bow.

I have to search his face for the softness I adore, somewhere behind the steely blue eyes and the hard, handsome face that’s chiseled by life.

Just for me, he cracks another almost-smile and his hand finds mine.

“Let’s get this over with. You ready?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad will it be?”

His grip on my fingers tighten.

Bad, then.

“We’ll live,” he says casually. “It’s a decent improvement over surviving a near drowning and convincing your dad I have a right to breathe in your presence.”

Liar. Now he’s just being sweet.

“Whatever happens, I’m here, Shepherd,” I whisper.

I’m not nervous.

We haven’t been hiding our relationship from the cameras or anyone, really.

I’ve deliberately put him in a ton of my stuff on Insta and TikTok.

Whenever anyone asks, we admit the truth, and we’ve been seen in public by people who like to talk plenty of times.

For Shepherd, he’s actually been out a lot. Another big change. His life doesn’t revolve around the office anymore.

So, why are my palms so sweaty I can barely cling to him?

“Sorry.” I look up at him and grimace.

“We don’t need to do this, Dess,” he whispers. “We can still back out.”

“No way! Hannah assured me it was the best way to put this to bed. So, yeah. Let’s get it done.”

The harassed guy holds up five fingers and gestures at us.

Five minutes until showtime.

A muscle tics in his jaw.

The reason we’re here isn’t to rub salt in the wound that is Vanessa Dumas’ failed attempts to get with Shepherd. Or even to trumpet our relationship to the entire world—though that’s exactly what we’ll be doing in practice.

No, the real reason we’re here is to prove her wrong.

To clear Shepherd’s name and make people understand what a decent human being he really is.

No freaking way I’d ever back away from that.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like the luckiest man on Earth.” He’s totally deadpan, looking at me with nothing except the barest flicker of amusement he tries to hide.

“Dick.”

“We’ll have to hope they don’t get that on camera.”

I pinch his arm, but his teasing helps settle my jitters.

It’s certainly not my first time being in front of an audience. But given everything that’s happened, I know the stakes, and I want to get this right.

So we wait quietly, still holding hands, until we’re given the signal to move to the staging area where the red couches are waiting.

Vanessa already had her chance to deliver her side of the story—pretty much the same version she spat out months ago.

Shepherd used her for sex, promised her marriage, and dumped her.

And with our whole fiasco, she’s used it to cement her position, even as she’s fallen out of the spotlight.


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