Hate Notes – A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy Read Online Penelope Bloom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Penelope Bloom Advertisement

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I paused, giving her a curious look. "Fine."

"You just tucked your hair behind your ear," she said. A slightly predatory smile began to spread across her face like a cat who just caught the canary wearing a sign that said "Please Eat Me."

"Sometimes hair needs tucked."

"That hair didn't need tucked."

"You can't prove that."

"It was perfectly fine where it was. That was an unnecessary tuck, Em."

"You're policing my hair tucks, now?" I asked, voice slightly higher pitched than it should be.

"You and I both know you tuck your hair behind your ear when you're horny. I asked you about Orion, and you tucked. That means you're horny. He makes you⁠—"

I reached across the table, planting my palm over her lips and smiling awkwardly at a scandalized mom and her little daughter who were passing our table.

"Mommy, I don't see horns on that girl. Why did—" The little girl and mother passed out of earshot.

I bulged my eyes at Kora. "Do you mind? I get enough nasty looks as it is in this outfit."

"Red is a good color on you," Kora said. "Maybe people are just admiring. I'm sure Orion is. I bet he loves seeing you every morning."

I snorted. "Doubtful. I read him some of the most vile notes every morning. If anything, he probably has an aversion to me by now."

"Aversion is just French for erection, you know."

"Uh," I said. "I'm pretty sure aversion isn't even French..."

"Agree to disagree," Kora said, which was what she said when she knew she was wrong but didn't want to admit it. "All I'm saying is if he gets you so hot and bothered, maybe you could try to... squeeze a little more out of this deal." As if her meaning wasn't clear enough, she raised a hand and pretended to fondle an imaginary pair of balls. A very large pair, by the looks of it. Like, medically concerning large.

"He doesn't, and I won't. I have something called integrity. And what are those you’re fondling? Softballs?"

“Most balls are soft in my experience,” Kora said. “And wow,” she waved her palms around in a show of mock amazement. “I forgot I was talking to Ember, the queen of integrity. Weren't you the one who borrowed Cole's stapler, rubbed it on Catman, and returned it to his desk the following day because you know he's slightly allergic to cats?"

"If that vile story was true, which I won't admit it was, I would just point out it was a very small allergy. He gets a runny nose and his eyes itch. So, frankly, I don't see your point."

"I love you, Ember. But you are hilariously ruthless. You'll do whatever it takes, and you don't let shit stand in your way. I'm pretty sure you would happily rock his world if you wanted it badly enough, ethics be damned."

I sat up straighter. "This assault on my character has gone on long enough. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to go deliver hateful messages to terrible people. You know, like an upstanding citizen."

Kora rolled her eyes, stood, and gave me a hug. "I can't watch Mr. Wrong until tomorrow morning. So, if you text me spoilers again, I'm going to end you. Just a warning."

Mr. Wrong was a show we obsessively watched and talked about when I still worked in the office. Producers purposefully set a group of women up with a man they thought was as wrong as possible for them, stranded them on a deserted island, and waited to see who ended up falling for him. It was peak trash TV, and I loved every second of it.

"Text you when Jenna slips in his tent after dark and takes him for a ride on the bang train? Got it. You'll be the first to know."

Kora punched me, then raised a finger. "It'll be the end of you. So make sure your affairs are in order. Oh, and you've got a little coffee on your lip." She licked her thumb and gripped me as I tried to squirm away, rubbing it off of my face like an overbearing grandmother.

"There," Kora said. "Now you look pretty as ever for your little CEO crush. Good luck."

I made it one step toward the door before Kora slapped my ass hard enough to let out an audible pop.

Or maybe she was more like a creepy uncle.

I paused, straightened myself, and left with the remaining scraps of my dignity, already planning which Hate Note I would read to Orion first today. Maybe the one about his tie collection. He seemed especially sensitive about his ties.

8

ORION

Isat in the executive conference room on the 31st floor of Foster Real Estate. The table was an impressive single slab of walnut I had commissioned a few years ago, and it was far too large for our small group of four, but I hardly cared.


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