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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Two million effing dollars.

Look, I come from money, but a couple mil being handed out to a good cause isn’t pocket change. I’ve never managed to raise a fraction of that amount.

The only way I could get that much is if I raided my parents’ bank accounts, which I totally refuse to do, especially when they already give so generously from their own pockets.

Two million dollars.

That’s a lot of incentive.

There’s also a note about getting a chance to work with Mr. Hot Messy CEO in the flesh. I’m surprised he’s personally involved, and it might be good leadership experience, if you can get past the likely personality flaws.

I haven’t had a chance to work with many business leaders who aren’t part of Dad’s circle and biased toward liking me. That could be useful if I’m ever in a position to start a nonprofit.

The bad news, of course, is that a prize that big guarantees fierce competition.

Mr. Hot Messy CEO would get a big pile of good applications for a quarter of that amount. Even if he’d offered a hundred grand, he’d have people vying for the spot like hungry piranhas.

But two million dollars?

I have to remember how to breathe.

My mind is already spinning with hope, imagining everything I could do if I win the position—which is ridiculous when I haven’t even decided to apply yet.

But it does say you can pick any charity you want, doesn’t it?

Imagine what a local environmental group could do with a cool two million as a booster, all in one go. Heck, if I let my followers know, maybe they’ll donate too.

But what would I choose?

I’m pretty sure they need to know upfront.

I chew my lip as I run through my options.

Maybe the Marine Conservation Club?

They do so much to protect endangered local species like sea otters, whales, harbor porpoises, and sea lions.

Reflexively, I reach up and finger the little onyx turtle necklace I always wear. My stepmom, Eliza, got it for me years ago and it’s turned my luck around ever since.

So, maybe I could put in an application and let the rest sort itself out.

What could it hurt?

If a man can wake up this early to scream at concerned strangers and tempt fate dueling with the Puget Sound, I can certainly tempt it by getting off my butt for a good cause.

It turns out, it can hurt a lot.

Mostly my head.

Especially when you freaking win.

“Stand up straight,” the lady says from behind the camera. We’re set up in the bright, airy lobby of Home Shepherd’s headquarters. We could have filmed it on his office floor, but his décor feels less than cheerful.

What I actually mean is less pleasant.

Chrome and weathered grey slate are classy, for sure, but stepping in there made me feel like I forgot what the sun looked like in this fancy dungeon.

If the CEO chose that style himself, I can easily imagine what sort of man he is.

Stone-cold, with a personality as bland as his slate-tiled artisan floor.

I plaster on a smile.

Hey, it’s not like I’m new to standing in front of a camera under stress. But when I applied for this program, this wasn’t what I bargained for.

Honestly, I never expected to win.

Home Shepherd is a big deal in these parts. I’ve heard Dad mention them offhand for securing his shops and I couldn’t care less about security services.

Plenty of influencers certainly applied when they heard about the massive payout for charity.

It’s a little sweet to edge out the local competition, I’ll admit.

Especially total brat influencers, like Meghan “Tea” Maven, who make their views off rancid gossip. Home Shepherd’s big charity payoff would just be one more thing for Meghan to boast about, anyway, no matter how many homeless shelters she supports.

For her, it’s a means to an end.

More about boosting her own clout than helping the world.

I’m not into the whole gossip thing, of course, but a lot of people are. She’s been all over everything lately.

Compared to my paltry almost-a-million TikTok followers, she has well over five mil, plus a zillion more spread across Instagram and Twitter.

On paper, it should be a no-brainer. Meghan has a bigger platform, hands down.

For some reason, they picked me. I must’ve passed their vibe check, I guess.

“Okay!” Camera Lady says cheerfully, and I try to focus again. “That’s lovely, Destiny.”

It’s not lovely.

My smile feels rubbery at the edges and I think my eyes look puffy from the three hours of sleep last night. I’ve been doing this all day, all these little press releases and photo ops to let the world know about the program and the fact that I’m joining it.

I already want to just crawl into bed and sleep for a solid day.

But at this point I’d settle for getting down to work.

My skin prickles with the attention.

My smile wilts, and I have to hoist it back into place again.


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