Page 4 of Merry Little Hate Notes

“See you soon.” She turned and walked away, not letting me get another word in.

Taking a deep, worried breath, I paused to admire the breathtaking view outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The sun gradually descended behind the majestic snow-covered mountains, casting a warm, golden, pinkish glow on the city. It didn’t matter that I had lived in Colorado most of my life—the mountain scenery spoke to my soul even as the hustle and bustle of the Denver Tech Center in Greenwood Village, where our office was located, hummed below.

But not even the gorgeous scenery could calm my nerves today. I had a bad feeling about these so-called adjustments.

Then, as if on cue, those bad feelings intensified when a sexy, smooth voice filled the air. “Hi, Holly.” Brandon hadn’t said my name in years, and I hated how good it sounded coming from his deceitful mouth.

No. No. No. This wasn’t happening. First the note, and now he talks to me?I stood frozen, staring out the window, feeling trapped like a wounded teenager once again. It was then I remembered I was no longer that girl. I’d overcome things I’d never expected, so I turned around, intending to just walk off, until the sight of Brandon had me stopping in my tracks.

For all his faults, apparently known only by me, Brandon was, ina word, beautiful. He’d grown up to possess the striking Henry Cavill jawline, with prominent brow ridges and high cheekbones. A perfectly groomed layer of stubble adorned his handsome face, adding to his irresistible charm. Not that he was irresistible to me. Definitely not—except that once. Okay, maybe twice. Fine, a handful of times. But I was a teenager, and I’d learned my lesson—Brandon Cassidy was evil. It didn’t matter that he looked like a demigod with a wavy quiff and classic gentleman’s hair. Long gone were the swooping bangs.

“I’m going to the party.” I pointed in the wrong direction, stuttering like a fool.

Brandon gaped at me, seeming as tongue tied as I was. Weird.

I looked down at my soft-pink V-neck sweater, assuming I’d spilled something on it for how hard he was staring. It couldn’t be that I fascinated him, since he’d just called me a gray sprinkle. It was obvious from our teen years he only thought of me as the plain girl next door.

Remembering I didn’t need to stay, I walked off, congratulating myself for not telling him off about the note. This way, he would know he hadn’t gotten to me.

“Holly, wait. I just wanted to tell you I look forward to working with you.”

I spun around so fast I felt woozy. “Excuse me?”

He ran a hand over his hair. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” That life was playing another cruel joke on me?

“Damn,” he whispered. “I thought my dad told you already.”

“Told me what?” That he hated me?

Enter Bertram Cassidy stage left, as if on cue, grinning and looking well. For a man in his late fifties, Bertram’s face had hardly a wrinkle on it—only some crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. He was just an older, gray-haired version of his son. Which meant he possessed incredible distinction and handsomeness. Which also meant Brandon would continue to be a babe forever. It was so unfair.

“Holly,” Bertram said my name like an affectionate father, opening his arms and inviting me in for a hug.

I always took him up on it. While I loved my dad, Bertram offered me the comfort and stability my father had seemed incapable of for thelast several years. I missed the days when I could count on the man who was my first hero.

Wrapping my arms around Bertram, I let myself sink into his tender embrace. He smelled like spearmint, expensive cologne, and better times—days when I thought my future and life were all set.

“How are you, honey?” Bertram asked.

“Um ... I’ve been better.” I couldn’t lie. How could Bertram do this to me? I thought he and Lauren, his wife, loved me. They knew Brandon and I didn’t get along.

“I let the cat out of the bag,” Brandon admitted.

I wanted to shove that dang cat right back in the bag. Even though I loved cats and was against any type of animal cruelty. But this cat was like the spawn of Satan.

Bertram gave me a good squeeze before releasing me and offering me a thoughtful glance. He and his wife did that often. I knew they wished they could fix all the things that had gone wrong in my life, but that wasn’t their job. They had already done so much, including paying me generously for someone in my position. If the other business development reps knew what I made, they would be livid. It was why I always gave my job more than my all. But Bertram’s glance also spoke of more.

“Holly. Brandon. Let’s take this into the conference room.” Bertram waved toward the Bat Cave. All the conference rooms had fun names.

In a daze, I walked toward the glass door Brandon had rushed to open. I couldn’t even look at him as I walked past him into the glass-walled conference room. The open-concept workspaces, while beautiful and fun, with rock-climbing walls and free snacks in the spacious dining area, offered zero privacy. What would people think if they walked by and saw me in there with the CEO and the heir apparent? I’d tried my best to keep my connection to the Cassidys on the DL. Mostly because I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me that I’d once lived a charmed life that was now ... well ... different.

“Please have a seat.” Bertram pulled out a chair for me as soon as he entered.

I sank into it, wringing my hands and wondering how this waspossible. Brandon didn’t even live in Colorado. Not that a remote type of situation couldn’t happen, but even so, I wouldn’t want to work with Brandon. If my dad didn’t currently count on my income, I might think about resigning on the spot. It appeared I would have to summon up some bravery sooner rather than later and let myself dream again ... or just find another good-paying job. That was the ticket. Unfortunately, the holidays were upon us, which meant most companies wouldn’t bring anyone new on board until at least January.

Bertram and Brandon took seats across from me.

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