One Bossy Date – Bossy Seattle Suits Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Funny Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)

An accidental date brings together two instant enemies in this hilarious and steamy grumpy boss romance from Wall Street Journal bestselling author Nicole Snow.

Never sweat the small stuff, they say.
How about when you wake up with a giant stranger showering in your hotel room?
There's nothing tiny about Brock Winthrope.
He even roars like a lion when he sees me. I scream back. And after narrowly avoiding a murder scene, we've got trouble.

He says he'll fix our reservation blunder since he's the manager (he's not).
He thinks I'll smack his resort with the rotten egg review from hell (I might).
I've never seen a man so grumpy groveling his heart out to wow me (it's working).
Oh, but it gets better.

Brock whisks me away on an amazing “date” and things get heated.
I'm still dreaming about obnoxiously hot kisses under the stars months later when fate strikes.
I wasn't supposed to see him again.
Not at this dumpster fire marketing job I desperately need.
Not when I crash into him—literally.
Definitely not when I find out he's the crankyface billionaire CEO signing my checks.

Cue the freaking out.
The stormy glares.
The tension thicker than quicksand.
The hopeless promises to “just do my job” without choking on Mr. Grumpmuffin's attitude.
What's worse than one messy date with your radioactive boss?
One more.

Expect enemies-to-lovers fireworks! Delightful banter, slow-burn sweetness, plus one office beast who finally learns how to smile for the lady who ignites his world.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************


Do Not Disturb (Piper)

So, this is heaven.

The salt-scented air is toasty, but there’s just enough ocean breeze to keep it cool. I set my glass down on the table with a clink and pick up my phone.

It’s hard to tear my eyes away from the palm trees swaying in the trade winds and the picturesque ocean view beyond them.

Lanai is something, all right.

Like pure magic scooped out of a dream and left to melt in the hot sun of mundane life.

Even with the usual worries, it’s hard not to bask in Hawaiian wonder.

How’s Dad? I text Maisy.

Maisy: Dude. You’re in Hawaii and you’re texting about Dad? How’s paradise? Send photos! She adds a nervous emoji at the end.

That’s so Maisy. I roll my eyes as I type a reply.

Piper: Dreamy. I didn’t want to make you jealous, okay?

Maisy: Send more photos!

I frown because she hasn’t answered my question.

But Dad’s okay? I send.

The phone buzzes against my palm before I can put it down for another sip of this godlike mai tai.

Maisy: Same old grumpy-grump he always is. He basically pushed me out the door this evening for the weekly chowder run. Y’know, the yoozh.

I smile and settle back in my chair.

Piper: You’re still making sure he takes all his pills and eats vegetables? The potatoes in the salmon chowder don’t count.

Maisy: Yes, Mother. She throws me an emoji with its tongue hanging out.

Piper: Is he at least trying to exercise? They say that slows his condition down...

Maisy: Pippa, stop. Go have fun. Let me worry about Papa Bear.

I nod at my screen, despite knowing she can’t see me.

Such a sweet kid.

And she’s right about being perfectly capable and mature for her age. I’m insanely lucky to have a seventeen-year-old like her caring for Dad while I jet off to bathe in luxury for the next few days.

I know you’ll manage. I just feel bad leaving you there to handle everything alone, I admit.

And I do it too often, every time I take one of these trips.

Maisy: Pippy, I’m proud of you. It’s so cool to live your dreams. This is just the start.

Her text catches me off guard and I take a shaky sip of mai tai.

Geez. She really is the best little sister a girl could ask for.

We’ll see, I send back. I only got this gig because Jenn works her butt off in marketing. Winthrope Lanai is so exclusive it wouldn’t have been an option without her hooking me up.

That part is true. They don’t call it billionaire island for nothing.

Maisy: Ugh. Remind me to get a best friend in marketing!

I laugh, knowing I need to bring her along on my next review excursion. We’ll find someone to check in on Dad, cost be damned.

A loud yawn rattles out of me as I type a reply.

I’m still shaking off some jet lag so I’ll check in later.

I finish my drink and slowly amble up to the unbelievable presidential suite Winthrope comped me with, hoping for a glowing review.

The room—the whole freaking penthouse-sized suite, really—is beautiful. The air smells like sandalwood and fresh orchids.

A four-poster king-sized bed dominates the center, but there’s a huge sitting area and kitchenette just outside. And past the bed, my favorite part—double glass doors that open up to a massive patio soaring above the ocean.

For the second time since I’ve laid eyes on it, my mouth drops.

God, how did I get so lucky?

I owe Jenn big-time for the view alone.