Page 1 of Taming the Boss

Prologue

Crescent Cove was nothing like I'd expected when I rolled into the small town. The holiday season was in full swing and at first, the explosion of bells, bows, and Christmas trees made my eye twitch. I was used to the ostentatious and exploitive nature of Christmas, thanks to my mother’s home brand.

After the initial shock of decorations on every lamp post, awning, and business window, I quickly saw the difference between small town Christmas and the one I was used to. Instead of uniform and perfect, each business seemed to have their own style that complemented the traditional splashes of lights and sparkle that made up the town.

I made my way down Main Street and spotted more than a dozen Christmas trees, both big and small. The December wind was brisk, but Central New Yorkers were a hardy bunch. People meandered and chatted, seemingly happy to be bogged down with bags bursting with last-minute gifts.

Christmas was nearly here somehow.

I'd been in semi-nearby Albany for a meeting with one of my mother's distributors. I’d been halfheartedly working inA Home You Love's corporate office. Whispers of nepo baby in the halls didn't help my already epic dislike of the home brand that appeared in every retail space across the United States and Canada. If my mother had her way, she’d be adding Europe by the following year.

A master's degree in business and finance had been a foregone conclusion being the eldest son of Wayne and Michelle Keller. The schooling part hadn't been the problem. I enjoyed the competition and the stability of college. Hell, I’d been shipped off to boarding school as soon as my parents could manage it. I was used to being on my own. College had been a means to an end, not a cast of lasting friendships.

I kept my head down and my eye on the prize.

Freedom.

Then again, I was still tangled with A Home You Love.

For now.

I'd learned from my father how to invest and real estate had activated that competitive flame within me. Both building and renovating had their places, but I was mostly interested in finding special spaces and the perfect buyer—or renter.

I wanted something completely separate from the Keller name. It had been touch and go for the first few years, but I could stand on my own with the properties I now owned. Enough that I'd been able to hire an admin to handle the day-to-day things that didn't interest me.

Caro had been eager to get out of my father's secretarial pool and have her own office to run. My father might be a genius with financial risk and reward, but he treated his employees like garbage. I vowed I'd never be like him in any way.

Cold. Dismissive. A slave to the almighty dollar. He only lived for the high of a deal.

My mother was no better. Sure, she loved the trappings of money, but her eyes were always on the cameras. She adored being at the forefront of her home brand. Pretending she was the ultimate mother, businesswoman, and creative person.

If only people knew that their precious Michelle Keller didn't give a rat's ass about her children unless it was time to take a photo for the annual holiday postcard that would be plastered on every tag for Christmas decor. The ultimate sales period for any business, really, but even more so for A Home You Love. My mother loved to believe she was the next Joanna Gaines—minus the actual love of family.

And doing actual creative work.

She left that part to my sister, not that Sydney got any of the accolades. No, those went to the queen bee and no one else.

Last weekend, we'd all been trotted out for the annual dog and pony show. The corporate holiday party happened to coincide with my mother's sixtieth birthday. The ostentatious over-the-top affair had been staggeringly painful, but I was used to sacrificing an evening packed with lies.

Until a cheeky reporter had the gall to bring up my mother's former life. I’d always known I had a pair of half brothers but Dorian Briggs—I'd never forget the reporter's name—had brought them into my life with a breathtakingly technicolor bomb.

Family had only meant a chance for a public relations photo op until I'd seen a glossy photo of the Hamilton men of Crescent Cove. Not only did Seth and Oliver look startlingly like me, but the identical twins had seemingly found the key to happiness in a sleepy small town in Central New York.

Which was why my idiotic ass was driving into Crescent Cove after an excruciating day of meetings.

Dorian had dug up the skeletons in my mother's closet, but she'd shrugged it off with no more than a cool stare of disdain. The reporter had been banished from the party with a flick of my mother’s bejeweled wrist before she moved on to another reporter who had only fawned over Michelle Keller's successes.

But for me, it had been a breath-stealing moment of what if?

Was nature versus nurture a reality?

I glanced over at the passenger seat of my BMW rental at the photo for Hamilton Realty. Seth and Oliver were front and center of the glossy trifold marketing brochure. We had the same coloring, same hair, same build—the only difference was that I had the arctic blue eyes of my mother.

I didn’t need to open it up to see the happy family inside. I’d memorized the faces of Alison and Sage Hamilton, Seth and Oliver’s wives, along with their children with their glowing smiles as examples of the perfect family life.

I knew all about the fake smiles and the fake family charm.

But that photo was missing the veneer I knew all too well. There was no staged set, no fussy clothing that matched—it was a backyard with Crescent Lake in the background.

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