Trapped with my Grumpy Boss: An Enemies to Lovers Opposites Attract Romance

Chapter 1

The notification sound from my computer scares me more than it should have. “Deep breaths,” I repeat, looking around my tiny apartment. My eyes dart to everything but the purple laptop.

I take another calming breath. “Here goes nothing.”

My phone rings before I can open the email. Relief washes over me as I pick up the small device.

“Hello?”

“Did you get it?” Chloe asks. Only my best friend would be more excited than me about my possible job.

“It just came in,” I whisper, even though I’m the only one here.

“Well?”

“I’m checking!” I slide across the trackpad and click on the bold subject line. My eyes move faster than my brain By the time I’m halfway into the letter, my head catches up.

The edges of my lips fall as I watch the screen. It takes a few moments for Chloe’s voice to register in my mind. By now, she has guessed what the news is.

“I’ll be right there.”

Chloe knows me more than most people, so she appears at my front door with the biggest tub of ice cream she could find. I don’t budge from my spot on the bed until I hear her knocking.

I open the door to her soft, sad smile. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the job,” she says.

I let out a sigh, shrugging. “It’s fine. This is only the sixth refusal in two months.”

She moves past me, her blonde hair brushing under my nose as she passes. She rushes to my bed and closes the laptop before sitting on it.

When I sit down with her, she hands me a plastic spoon. The tub of ice cream is opened to reveal creamy goodness. As I take a scoop of vanilla, all that appears in my mind is the rejection letter.

“I thought for sure I would get this one,” I sigh.

“Did you, though?” I look up, not bothering to hide my surprise. My mouth forms a gasp, making Chloe roll her eyes. “I don’t mean it like that,” she states quickly.

“What do you mean, then?”

A little groan. “Jess, I love you, but you’ve been doing this since you got to New York. I know there are a lot of opportunities here, and it’s a bigger place for business than Bennington, but still…you may need to slow down.”

I shoot her a confused look, still not catching on to where she”s going with that.

“I’m saying maybe it’s time to aim for a job in your weight class. It’s nice you’re reaching out to only big companies, but let’s face the truth—those places will most likely not give the time of day to someone fresh out of college with no experience.”

Her words fly around my room before hitting me. “What should I do then?” I gasp, surprised that she might have a point.

“Try something a little more reachable,” she suggests. “Something more entry-level.”

I blow out a harsh breath as my eyes fall on the pile of bills on my nightstand. They are long overdue, and I don’t have any way to pay them.

If applying for bottom-of-the-ladder roles in smaller firms lands me a job, then I’m game.

“I guess you’re right,” I inhale deeply. “At this point, I don’t mind becoming a cleaner just so I can have some money in my pocket.”

Chloe shakes her head in disapproval. “Of course not. It hasn’t gotten to that. No offense to cleaners, but you are going to get an entry-level position soon.”

“I hope so.”

I scoop a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth, hoping it will help comfort me and give me temporary relief.

A week later,thanks to Chloe’s advice, I find myself in front of the Grand Princeton, preparing for my job interview.

The second I walk through the large glass doors guarding the entrance, I feel like I’m entering another universe.

The pristine marble tiles shine like they are polished every minute of the hour. I can literally see my reflection in them. The air feels like it has been infused with a subtle aroma of luxury. The beautiful wooden furniture looks too expensive for anyone to sit on.

Classy jazz music drifts from hidden speakers, and this adds a sophisticated melody to the atmosphere. The ceiling soars high above, adorned with exquisite chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow over the entire space.

Guests, dressed in elegant attire, flow gracefully through the lobby. They move with ease and purpose, some engaged in hushed conversations, others immersed in their phones.

As I scan the surroundings, someone else catches my eye.

A soft gasp escapes my mouth as my gaze rests on the dark-haired man in the foyer. His lips curl into a frown as his gray eyes shine with something I can’t quite decipher; anger, maybe.

Toned forearms sneak out from under his dress shirt, and I imagine those arms around me for the briefest moment. It takes shaking my head to bring me out of my reverie.

Get a grip—you’re here for an interview.

I quickly look away from the man and focus my attention to my left, where a concierge stands behind a sleek, mahogany desk adorned with fresh flowers and two large computer screens. She has her eyes glued to the monitors as she checks a couple in.

This is what my future is going to look like if I get this job. Will I be good at it? I’ve never been in this role before. Maybe I should just turn around and leave. It’s not too late.

You can’t do that. Remember, you have bills to pay.

Of course. Pulling myself together, I take a deep breath and walk up to the uniform-dressed woman.

“Good morning, ma’am. Welcome to the Grand Princeton,” she greets me with a warm smile. She looks about the same age as me and seems genuinely happy at her job. Or if she’s faking it, then she’s very good at it.

“Hello, I’m here for an interview,” I say to her, returning her smile even if I feel terribly nervous on the inside.

What if I flop this? What if I get rejected, just like the rest of the places I had applied to?

Maybe I should just save myself the heartache, turn around, and go back home.

“Your name, please,” the concierge asks, still smiling.

“Jessica Martin.”

She peers at her computer screen as she types on the keypad, and then she looks up, her expression unwavering.

How does she do that?

“The manager is waiting for you. Head up to the fifth floor; her office is the third door by your right.”

“Thank you…” I trail off as I peek at her name tag, “Vivian.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck in there.”

I give her a curt nod as some guests approach her and start attending to them. Then, I walk to the elevator, taking my phone out of my purse to text Chloe, letting her know that I’m going in for the interview. She replies almost immediately.

Chloe: Go get them! Let’s meet for drinks and celebrate later this evening.

Me: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t know if I’m going to get the job yet.

Chloe: Have a little faith.

I’m about to text her back a reply when I bump into a wall, causing me to lose my balance, but just before I fall to the floor, I feel warm, large hands hold me on both sides, preventing me from falling.

“Are you all right?” I hear a low baritone ask, and that’s when I look up.

I’m held spellbound for a second as I look into a pair of hazel eyes that are looking deep into my soul. It’s the man from earlier. The same man I couldn’t stop staring at just a minute ago.

“Are you okay?” he asks again, causing me to quickly stand erect and take a step away from him because his cologne is making me feel dizzy in a good way.

“Ye…” I clear my throat because I can’t seem to get any words out. “Yeah, I’m fine. I…” I swallow hard. “I’m sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine. Maybe you can look away from your phone while walking to avoid accidents like this.”

“Yes, of course.”

He gives me a curt nod before walking away, and my eyes follow him as I mentally beat myself for making such a terrible first impression. I just hope I never have to see him again because I don’t want to relive this embarrassment.

Without replying to Chloe, I walk over to the elevator and get in, pressing the fifth floor.

The elevator doors ding softly as I reach my destination, and I step out into a corridor adorned with plush carpeting.

I follow the concierge’s directions to the manager’s office, and I can’t help but replay the awkward encounter with the mysterious hazel-eyed man in my mind.

The anticipation for the interview competes with a lingering uneasiness, but the excitement wins as I rehearse the way I’m going to greet the interviewer in my head.

I take a moment to compose myself and take a deep breath before I knock.

“Come in,” I hear a feminine voice call out.

The door swings open to reveal a woman who seems to be in her early thirties, well-dressed and exuding an air of authority.

“Jessica Martin?” she inquires with a raised eyebrow, as if my presence is an inconvenience.

“Yes, that’s me,” I reply, trying to muster confidence.

“Finally,” she mutters under her breath, making me question whether she intended for me to hear it. “Come in, and let’s get this over with.”

I step into her office, and the manager, whom I assume to be Ms. Rodriguez, based on the nameplate on her desk, motions for me to take a seat. I comply, my nerves intensifying as I notice her stern expression.

The interview starts, and I answer questions to the best of my ability. However, her demeanor doesn’t soften. Instead, she seems unimpressed, as if my presence is an inconvenience to her busy schedule.

As the meeting progresses, I can’t shake off the feeling that I’m not what she expected or wanted. Her abrupt tone catches me off guard, and her dismissive gestures make it clear that she’s either having a bad day or she just doesn’t like me.

After what feels like an eternity, Ms. Rodriguez abruptly stands. “Wait outside. I’ll let you know my decision.”

Without giving me a chance to respond, she points me in the direction of the door.

Time seems to drag on as I stand by the manager’s office”s door. Doubt creeps in. I take out my phone, contemplating whether to text Chloe or continue to mark time in suspense.

Just then, the door swings open, and she appears. “You’re hired. Check your email in the next five minutes, and an offer will be sent to you. Make sure you’re here tomorrow morning by eight, not later, or you might as well not come at all.”

With that, she disappears back into the office, shutting the door in my face.

Stunned, I stare at the closed door, my mind struggling to process what had just happened. The doubt that had been creeping in earlier now dissolves into disbelief. I find myself reeling with a mix of emotions—shock and exhilaration.

I just got the job! I have a job!

The confirmation that this is real begins to sink in, and I can feel a rush of joy welling up inside me.

Unable to contain my elation, I dial Chloe’s number, and as she answers, the first thing she asks is, “How did it go?”

“Chloe, I got the job! Can you believe it?” I exclaim.

Her squeal of excitement matches my own. “Jessy, that’s fantastic! I told you it would happen. We need to celebrate! Drinks tonight?”

I nod, even though she can’t see it. “Absolutely! I can’t wait. I’ll fill you in on all the details. Meet you at our usual spot?”

“Deal! I’ll be there. Get ready for a night to remember. Congratulations my friend.”

With a beaming smile, I end the call and take a moment to savor the reality of my newfound employment.

As I make my way out of the hotel, the lavish surroundings that seemed intimidating before now shimmer with a promise of opportunity. I take a deep breath, savoring the scent of success in the air.

Later that evening,Chloe and I meet up for drinks at our usual spot.

“I’m so happy for you. Finally, you have a job. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Just as our drinks arrive, her phone starts ringing. She glances at the screen, her expression shifting from delight to concern.

“Crap. Hold on Jessy, I need to take this. It’s Mark,” she says apologetically, referring to her boyfriend. I nod, gesturing for her to go ahead.

Chloe answers the call, and from her hushed conversation, it becomes apparent that something is amiss.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m so sorry I have to go. Mark has an emergency,” she explains hastily, already reaching for her purse.

“Oh my God, what”s wrong? Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I have to cut your celebration short.”

“No worries, girl. Go take care of him. We can celebrate some other time,” I assure her, watching as she rushes out of the restaurant.

Alone, I signal the waiter for the bill. Once the check arrives, I take a moment to settle it. Just as I’m about to leave, lost in thought, I collide with someone.

Startled, I look up, and there he is again—the hazel-eyed man from the Grand Princeton lobby.