One Bossy Proposal: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bossy Seattle Suits)

Welp, the asshat actually did it.

He stepped away from the company without even the courtesy of showing up for one last all-staff meeting. He just blasts an email to the entire crew.

Dear all,

I’ve recently found myself dealing with a personal tragedy that requires all of my attention and my heart. It wouldn’t be fair for me to stay on at the helm of Haughty But Nice dividing my time. I can’t do that to you.

That’s why I’m stepping away indefinitely to tend to personal matters.

I hate that my time with you has come to an unexpected end. I’ll sincerely miss each and every one of you. Some of you, I’ve known my whole life. Rest assured I’m leaving you in the most capable hands.

Sincerest wishes,

Lincoln Burns, Chief Executive Officer

I read the email, blinking back tears, and turn to Cheryl.

“So who’s our new CEO?” I ask.

“Oh, God, I have no idea. Did you know about this?”

I shrug glumly.

“…he said he might do this, the last time we got into it. I just didn’t think he was serious.” I bite my lip, hating the instant crash in office morale I can feel in the air.

The COO strolls right past us to Anna’s office.

That’s never happened before. We stare after her.

“Why is she down here?” I whisper.

“How should I know?”

I try to glue my eyes back to ad projects on my screen, but I’m too distracted by the impending doom. We whisper back and forth, wondering why our lowly marketing team is being visited by C-level staff.

“I knew something was seriously wrong,” Cheryl moans, rubbing her face. “We’re going under, aren’t we? We took on too much with that wedding line. Burns knows it, and he’s jumping ship before we’re underwater.”

“Lincoln wouldn’t have resigned if he thought we were going under. He’d stay and fight until he turned it around.” I may loathe the man for using my heart as a punching bag, but I’ll give him his professional due.

I also know the real reason for the turnover in leadership.

Linc just doesn’t know what to do. He’d rather exit his family business than deal with me.

Sure, there’s also the Wyatt factor, but ugh.

I used to think I hit my all-time low when Jay ghosted on my wedding day. Anything had to be better after that.

I was wrong.

Cheryl stares through her computer screen and glances at Anna’s door. “She’s been in there for a while.”

The COO comes out of Anna’s office and goes straight to the elevator without speaking to anyone else.

Anna steps out about a minute later and walks up to us.

“Dakota, do you have a few? I’d like to talk.” she asks.

My stomach sinks.

“Good luck,” Cheryl mouths from her desk.

I nod, square my shoulders, and head to Anna’s office, ready to face the music, although I’m not even sure what I’m facing the music for. An HR formality, probably. They want some kind of statement to cover the company’s butt based on whatever Lincoln said about us.

Hell, maybe they think I should resign, too. That would tie up any loose ends.

“Why are you so tense?” she asks as I pass her.

“…I don’t know.”

She smiles. “Have a seat. I’m not here to put you in front of a firing squad.”

Not a huge relief, but I comply.

“So, Lincoln’s departure is a pretty big surprise. No one expected it.” Anna moves to her desk and sits. “The board will work to hire a new CEO, but in the meantime, leadership is being reshuffled.”

“Reshuffled?” A lump forms in my throat. That doesn’t sound good.

I should have just quit when crap went down.

“Jane’s going to be our acting CEO—”

“Jane?”

“The COO.”

“Oh, right.” I see her around but never knew her name.

“I’ll be acting COO in the meantime. It’s not permanent. Jane will return to her position when it’s all said and done.” She whispers, even though we’re alone in her office. “But just between you and me, I’m confident she’s planning to leverage her temporary CEO experience to take a stab at being CEO somewhere else once Lincoln is replaced. And if that happens, I’ll be staying in Jane’s position permanently.”

I nod. What does any of this have to do with me?

“While I’m COO, you’re going to be marketing manager.”

My heart jumps, sticking in my throat.

“What? But there are people who have been here way longer—”

“Doesn’t matter. You already review other people’s work when you don’t need to. Your suggestions are always good. People find it easy to ask you for advice and accept your criticism. There’s no one better for this role. It may be temporary, but it’ll be awesome experience on your resumé.”

I’m stunned, glued to my seat.

“Thank you. Um, when do I start?”

Anna clasps her hands and leans forward. “Today, if you’re ready.”

After Lincoln, I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready for anything again. But I wanted a distraction, didn’t I?

Ready or not, here it is.

It barely takes a few weeks to figure out I hate the new job.

All I do is go to meetings, approve creative from multiple teams, convince them they like their job, and run reports. I miss writing so much it hurts.

I also miss sparring with Lincoln over Regis rolls every morning. Anytime I go upstairs, I fight back tears at the sight of Jane in his office.

A whole month passes before I can blink.

No one’s heard from Lincoln since the day he disappeared.

I definitely haven’t. I don’t know what I expected, though.

He made it clear that I don’t matter. I’m the dirty little secret who blew him up and pushed him out of his career.

Anna and Jane have my back, working hard to shut down any lingering gossip. But it’s almost like they don’t need to. He’s been gone so long we’re creeping into life goes on territory, when news becomes memories and memories start to fade.

I head downstairs with a sigh, ready for another dull day. Cinnamon and butter punch me in the nose when I hit the marketing floor.

Jesus. It shouldn’t still remind me of him.

I’ve avoided Sweeter Grind like the plague lately. Now, that’s impossible with everyone holding one of those stupid colossal cinnamon rolls.

“Hey, Dakota.” Cheryl smiles and follows me on my way to Anna’s office—technically now mine. “You want me to grab you a Regis roll?”

“No. I’m—trying out this low carb thing. It’s pretty brutal. The entire diet is bacon and cabbage.” I stick my tongue out.

“Woof! You’re braver than me,” she says with a laugh. “Are you okay?”

I nod briskly.

“Do I not look okay?”

“You’re smiling, but your eyes aren’t. It’s okay to be upset.”

Part of me loves her for going into office mom mode when she sees me having so much as a quiet moment. The rest of me feels annoyed.

“I’m fine, Cheryl. No reason to be upset.”

“I mean, I’d still be raiding the drugstore every night for ice cream. Do they have a bacon and cabbage flavor?”

I look at her and blink.

“I don’t want to find out. Also, it’s been an entire month. I’m over it, lady. If I can get over a crazy, cheating scumbag leaving me at the altar, I can also get over Lincoln freaking Burns.”

I wish those words sounded sincere.

Who am I kidding? Lincoln Burns is everything I ever wanted.

He’s everything Jay isn’t, and now he’s gone in a flash of shattered hearts.

I try not to scoff.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here,” Cheryl says gently.

Oops. I guess that scoff was audible.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“And thank you for your feedback on the latest copy. I’m correcting it today, and I’ll have it to you by lunch. It’s way easier working for you!”

I plaster on a smile that doesn’t feel real.

People keep telling me I’m a natural in this role, but it makes me hate it more.

Just because you’re competent doesn’t mean you’re happy.

I want to sling words—not manage people—and I desperately hope maybe Jane decides she wants her old COO position back so Anna will have to fall back to this. I’ll gladly give it up the second she asks.

“Your work rocks, Cheryl. Tons of improvement,” I tell her, ripping my mind off bad thoughts.

Cheryl beams, her soft silvery eyes twinkling. “I think it’s because you showed me I’m not afraid to take chances. If something doesn’t work, you let me know without any ego in the way. We just change it up.”

My lips twist in thought. Her posts have gotten funnier recently.

“Can’t wait to see what you bring me. I’ll see you later,” I say as I push open my office door.

I’ve barely been at my desk for fifteen minutes when someone knocks.

Now what?

“Come in!” I call.

Whoever I expect, it’s definitely not Tillie Burns marching through the door in a green blazer and gold necklace that look like they were just jacked from a runway model.

Can this day get any worse?

“Mrs. Burns? What a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you.” That’s an understatement.

And Tillie is a nice woman but her sudden presence is like a sucker punch.

The biggest reminder of Captain Dipshit yet.

“Hello, dear. I’m sorry I haven’t been around the last few weeks to check in on everyone since Lincoln left. He asked me to lay low, actually, and thought it would make the transition easier. I agreed. I love this company, though, and I simply couldn’t stay away forever. I’m sure you’ve had one of my cinnamon rolls?”

“Um, bacon diet. I wish I could.” I wrinkle my nose. “But the whole office loves them. You’re pretty much the hero around here anytime you bring Sweeter Grind.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine. It’s the least I can do to support my grown-up baby. I want this company to thrive with heart and soul for many years to come—even if my dearest son is a horse’s ass.”

I bite back laughter, giving her a curious look.

Somehow, I have a feeling this isn’t just about cinnamon rolls and waxing nostalgic.

Without hesitation, Tillie closes the door behind her and takes the empty seat across from my desk.

“Dakota, I’m so sorry,” she says abruptly.

Wait, what?

So that’s what she wants. I was afraid of this.

I glance at her, guarded, and shake my head.

“You can’t apologize for your son’s behavior, Mrs. Burns. It’s not your fault. If he really wanted to apologize—please don’t take this the wrong way—but he’d man up and do it himself.”

I try to keep my anger in check. It’s not easy when I know he hasn’t done it because he doesn’t want to.

“Oh, I’m not apologizing for him,” Tillie says smoothly.

My eyebrows go up. “Then why did you say you’re sorry?”

“Because I feel responsible for this dreadful outcome.” Her body ripples with a sigh.

A single surprised laugh slips out of me.

“This is not your fault in any way, shape, or form. Not even indirectly. It’s partly mine for being stupid enough to get involved, to believe him. And a lot of it was his for being—” I remember I’m talking to his mom. “Umm—well—so Lincoln.”

She gives me a knowing nod.

“The boy can be maddening. I know, considering I’m the one who raised him. His father was the same way.” Her lips curl in this half smile, and her eyes are somewhere else. A different time and place.

“Lincoln told me you adored his dad…”

“Oh, I still do.” She shrugs. “That didn’t make him any less infuriating at times. But that’s not my point. I’m here to apologize for my role in this mess. I’m the one who talked Lincoln into entertaining this fake engagement marketing ploy while I hoped it would turn into something else. If I’d just kept my meddling mouth shut, the rest of this drama might have been avoided.”

I don’t follow.

“You did?” I whisper. I was under the impression Lincoln Burns doesn’t do anything he doesn’t damn well want to do.

Tillie nods slowly, frowning.

“Do you remember the first day we met?” she asks.

“How could I forget? You found me crying…” She must think I’m such a loser. The first time we met, I was having a nervous breakdown at work. Now I’ve had a tryst with her son that pushed him out of her company.

“That’s the day. Lincoln came around the corner, saw you upset, and was ready to kill someone—”

“Your son was the reason I was hurt,” I tell her.

There’s no point in hiding it if we’re spilling truths all over the place.

“Yes, I guessed as much.” She smiles sheepishly. “It bothered him, though. Deeply. I know when he’s upset. In fact, the only time I’ve ever seen him so flustered is when that young man he looks after gets in real trouble—”

“Wyatt?”

“Yes,” she says with a knowing smile.

“Not to change the subject, but how’s he doing?” I sincerely want to know.

“He’s on the mend. It hasn’t been an easy recovery, but when this all started, it wasn’t even certain he had another chance in the cards.”

I exhale pure relief, thankful that something went right.

“Anywho, back to business. I’m sorry I talked Lincoln into the fake wedding. He’s a grown man and he makes his own decisions, but I can’t help feeling like I might’ve been the decisive factor in his thinking. It’s just a trope in so many movies, and you two played off each other brilliantly when I saw you together.” She dips her head and looks up at me with big, sad eyes. “I had no right to intervene, Dakota, even if I’m obsessed with seeing my son happy. I just knew if he had to spend time with you—if he let his shields down, it wouldn’t stay fake for long.”’

“Yeah, well…” I can’t find the words to respond to that, so I shift in my seat.

“I assure you, I didn’t expect him to go and muck it up so dreadfully.” Again, she pauses and sighs, raw grief in her face. “I never knew it would trigger bad memories for him. Let alone bring him so close to making the same awful mistake twice…”

“What mistake?” I lean forward, my mind flashing back to that last horrible conversation with Lincoln and his cryptic comments about becoming someone else.

Everyone keeps dancing around some big forbidden secret.

Tillie looks at me sadly.

“You know how his last relationship ended, yes?”

I nod slowly. “He mentioned it. Cheating fiancée. Nasty fight. He said he caught her with her lover… It must’ve been pretty bad.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” She straightens in her seat, her mouth drawn tight. “I suppose he never mentioned the hideous aftermath?”

I shake my head, baffled at what she means.

“He’s an honest man, Dakota. When he goes all into something, he gives his entire heart, and it was like that with Regina, too. When he caught them together, he couldn’t hold back, right or wrong…”

Oh, God.

What is she getting at?

Tillie holds up a hand. “You didn’t hear this from me, but that poor excuse for a man he found her with, he had the nerve to laugh in Lincoln’s face when my boy ordered him to get out. Then he threw the first punch.”

Holy crap. I’m getting flashbacks of what happened with Jay and the knife.

“That’s awful, Mrs. Burns.”

“It’s Tillie,” she corrects sharply, taking a deep breath. “And that impulsive little rat almost wound up in an early grave. The second after he struck first, Lincoln pushed him to the ground and beat him senseless. He didn’t stop until half the bones in that man’s body were fractured.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper, my hand coming to my mouth.

She nods like her head weighs a ton.

“You can guess what came next,” Tillie says. “A criminal report. Lots of accusations and lawyers. Lincoln was lucky he wasn’t arrested, and luckier still when the man agreed to drop all charges for an appalling settlement. My son came an inch away from losing his reputation, his job, his entire life…”

When it clicks in my head, it twists like a knife.

Especially when Tillie says, “He knew how narrowly he dodged a cannonball. He worked hard to never put himself in that position again, to keep his anger from taking over. But regrettably, when your ex came along and tried to hurt you…”

“He panicked,” I finish weakly. “No wonder he freaked.”

“I only wish telling you could make it better, but I’m not delusional,” Tillie says. “Here, this should do more than any words ever will.”

She pulls a large envelope from her pocket and pushes it toward me. I’m so numb I can barely reach for it.

“What’s this?”

“Open it,” she tells me. “It can’t make up for the emotional tizzy I’ve had a hand in, but it’s a tangible apology.”

I open the thick pink envelope and pull out—a contract?

Huh.

She’s offering me a “creative fee” of five percent net profit from the wedding line.

Wait.

That’s a product line projected to profit at least half a billion dollars. Five percent of a conservative five hundred million is—holy Hannah, I don’t even know.

It’s a crapload.

I throw the contract back at her like it’s burning my hand.

“Mrs. Burns—Tillie—no way. This so isn’t necessary. I’m fairly compensated for my work on the wedding line, and anything else that happened outside work is—”

“Nonsense. There’s no earthly way he could’ve paid you enough for a sham that ended in tears. I know about your ninety-day work arrangement, too, and he’ll still pay you for that since you’ve reached the deadline. I feel horrible about this whole thing. If I was even a teensy bit to blame, I must make amends.”

Her eyes flash, a hazel-brown shade lighter than her son’s.

I’ve seen that same defiant look before, too.

Now, I know where he gets it…

God, I hate this.

She’s such a nice lady, and she’s his mother. It’s not her fault her son is a complicated jerkwad. Also, I don’t want to upset her, but there’s no point in denying the obvious.

“Well, I did get hurt, but money can’t fix a bad breakup. I mean, this is overkill. I don’t need to be a freaking millionaire because Lincoln broke up with me.”

“The ad concepts were your idea, Dakota.”

“But the fake marriage was Anna Patel’s!” I throw back.

“Lincoln told me you wrote most of the copy, or approved it.” Her eyes are unwavering.

“I did.” My voice is shrinking.

“And you were in those pictures with my son. You crafted a large part of the social media push that’s beginning now. Help me understand why you don’t deserve this?”

I don’t say anything, but I’m still holding out the contract.

She doesn’t take it.

“I hope you realize this money is yours. I won’t take it back, and if you refuse payment…well, I’ll be so offended I’ll never speak to you again.”

Dang.

Tillie Burns can do a supermom guilt trip so intense it could curl your hair, and she’s not even my mom.

I drop the contract on my desk with a conflicted sigh.

So this is my life.

Forced into reluctant riches, something I used to dream of in college.

“I wish I could turn back the clock, but money can’t buy time. I should have stayed out of it like Lincoln told me to,” she says.

“No, ma’am. It’s not your job to make me feel better. The only person in the world who can do that has made it pretty clear where he stands—as far away from me as possible.” I pull at my collar awkwardly, wondering why it feels like a steam valve.

“That terrible breakup with his ex and everything that came after left him a guarded man. Even before that, he wasn’t good at relationships, at feelings. I know my son.”

She’s so genuine.

Unfortunately, I know men.

“Tillie, he hasn’t spoken to me since the day he ditched me in front of the hospital. Not the actions of a man who cares. It’s fine. I always knew I wasn’t the kind of girl handsome CEOs end up with,” I say.

“I have no idea what you think my son’s type is, but I’ll tell you this. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have ended it and slipped into the ether. Dear Lord, do girls not read romance novels anymore?” She smiles.

“My tastes run darker, and romance is fantasy way too often. That’s why the fake wedding scheme didn’t work.”

“If he didn’t care about you, Dakota, it wouldn’t matter to him if you ran away with a biker. He left so you could continue on here with peace of mind. He had something to lose, so he took the loss the best way he could in his own misguided way.”

Oh my God. Is she right? I want her to be right.

Shut up, Dakota. It’s wishful thinking and you know it.

But she’s rubbed this wound raw again. I blink several times, my eyes stinging.

“So, I hate to cut this sort, Tillie, but I have a meeting.”

“But—”

I stand, needing to get out of here.

“I really have to go. Sorry.” I race out of the office, leaving her behind.

In the bathroom, I lock myself in a stall and ugly cry. Once it’s out of me, I fish my phone out of my pocket and panic text Eliza.

Dakota: I wish I was dead.

Eliza: What happened??? I’m shocked you’re still working there. I couldn’t hack it. Are people trash-talking you?

Dakota: Maybe. Probably. I don’t care.

Eliza: What’s wrong then?

I give Eliza a quick rundown on everything that just happened, including Matilda Burns’ bonkers apology offer.

When I tell her the amount, there’s a three-minute pause before my phone buzzes again.

Eliza: OMG. Take it and run! Dakota, you can write your heart out forever.

She sends a gif with a jolly pig rolling around in a pile of money.

Technically, she’s right. I should be euphoric.

I basically hit the jackpot, only, this is a lot more personal than any faceless lottery win.

I send a one-word response. Why?

Eliza: Uh, if being an instant millionaire isn’t incentive enough, how about being able to quit? Not being reminded of Lincoln Burns on a daily basis? That might help you get over him.

I frown, knowing she’s right.

That’s why it’s been a month and I can’t get him out of my head. Everything here still breathes Lincoln Burns.

Dakota: I don’t know. I’m in management now. And it feels like an even crappier move if I take the money and run.

Eliza: You hate management. You’re a Poe.

Fair point.

When I was writing ads, it wasn’t poetry, but at least it was writing.

Dakota: Another issue, quitting would be like admitting all the rumors are true, right?

Eliza: Well…they are.

Dakota: But no one else needs to know that.

Eliza: But they already do!

Before I can reply, another message dings.

Eliza: And why did this woman show up to randomly apologize for convincing her son to fake marry you? That’s weird.

Dakota: She felt bad. She just wanted to make things right. I’m pretty sure my cut is coming out of hers, and it’s not like anyone named Burns is hurting for money…

Eliza: You haven’t texted me from the bathroom crying for over a week until now. I just decided I don’t like his mom any more than I like his stupid face.

I laugh. I didn’t meet Eliza until I moved here, but she’s so loyal. I pity the lunk who ever tries to date her.

Dakota: His mom is very nice. Don’t hate her on my behalf.

Eliza: She upset you. What are you going to do? I hope you don’t move out of state like you did after Jay. You’re the only person in the building I like.

Dakota: LOL. No worries. I hate moving, no matter how much money I’ve got. I have you, my bike, and a really awesome savings cushion.

Eliza: Gotcha. What’s next then?

Dakota: I’m going to wash my face so no one knows I’ve been crying when I walk out of this bathroom. And I’m going to start applying for writing jobs. When I find something, I’ll jump.

Eliza: Only in Seattle?

Dakota: Yes. Relax, I’m stuck here.

I’ve known ever since I moved here that this was the place to be. The rain, the disappearing mountain, the cool breezes, the lush greenery surrounding the city, the art scene… This place may have its problems, but it just vibes writer.

For a while, I even thought I might find someone here to put Jay to shame.

Oh, I got my wish in the worst way.

But I also met Eliza, Cheryl, Anna, and a few more cool people. Until I got promoted, I made a nice salary doing what I love. There are plenty of reasons to stay, and Lincoln Burns won’t scare me away from rebooting my life.

I scrub my face with cold water and head back to my desk.

Acting like memories of Lincoln aren’t looping through my head is harder than it seems.

By afternoon, I duck out early and go for a long bike ride in the early summer breeze.

My legs pump until breathing hurts. I want to imagine I can sweat out heartbreak.

I’ll get over this jackass one way or another, richer or poorer, better or worse.

Thanks to him, I’m stronger than I was when I first showed up in this city.

If his gift was heartbreak, I’ll mend it by building a life worth living.