Hate to Love You: An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Comedy
Hate to Love You
An Enemies to Lovers Romantic Comedy
Melissa Schroeder
Edited by
Noel Varner
Cover Art by
Scott Carpenter
Harmless Publishing
Copyright © 2020 by Melissa Schroeder
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Also by Melissa Schroeder
CAMOS AND CUPCAKES
Delicious
Luscious
Scrumptious
THE FILLMORE SIBLINGS
Hate to Love You
HARMLESS:
A Little Harmless Sex
A Little Harmless Pleasure
A Little Harmless Obsession
A Little Harmless Lie
A Little Harmless Addiction
A Little Harmless Submission
A Little Harmless Fascination
A Little Harmless Fantasy
A Little Harmless Ride
A Little Harmless Secret
A Little Harmless Revenge
A Little Harmless Scandal
A Little Harmless Faith
A LITTLE HARMLESS MILITARY ROMANCE
Infatuation
Possession
Surrender
THE SANTINIS
Leonardo
Marco
Gianni
Vicente
A Santini Christmas
A Santini in Love
Falling for a Santini
One Night with a Santini
A Santini Takes the Fall
A Santini’s Heart
Loving a Santini
THE BUNDLES
Vol 1
Vol 2
Vol 3
CAMOS AND CUPCAKES
Delicious
Luscious
Scrumptious
SEMPER FI MARINES
Tease Me
Tempt Me
Touch Me
The Semper Fi Marines Collection
THE FITZPATRICKS
At Last
TASK FORCE HAWAII
Seductive Reasoning
Hostile Desires
Constant Craving
Tangled Passions
Wicked Temptations
Task Force Hawaii Vol 1
TEXAS TEMPTATIONS
Conquering India
Delilah’s Downfall
HAWAIIAN HOLIDAYS
Mele Kalikimaka, Baby
Sex on the Beach
Getting Lei’d
TEXAS HEAT
Scorched
SPIES, LIES, and ALIBIS
The Boss
ONCE UPON AN ACCIDENT
An Accidental Countess
Lessons in Seduction
The Spy Who Loved Her
Once Upon an Accident Bundle
THE CURSED CLAN
Callum
Angus
Logan
Fletcher
Anice
BY BLOOD
Desire by Blood
Seduction by Blood
BOUNTY HUNTER’S, INC
For Love or Honor
Sinner’s Delight
TELEPATHIC CRAVINGS
Voices Carry
Lost in Emotion
Hard Habit to Break
Bundle
CONNECTED BOOKS
The Hired Hand
Hands on Training
A Calculated Seduction
Going for Eight
SINGLE TITLES
Grace Under Pressure
Her Mother’s Killer
The Last Detail
Operation Love
Chasing Luck
The Seduction of Widow McEwan
Snowbound Seduction
Hawaiian Holidays
Sweet Patience
COMING SOON
Love to Hate You
To Donna Antonio for always being so supportive of the entire romance genre. You are one in a million, lady.
Mel
Contents
1. Syd
2. Grady
3. Syd
4. Grady
5. Syd
6. Grady
7. Syd
8. Grady
9. Grady
10. Syd
11. Syd
12. Grady
13. Syd
14. Grady
15. Syd
16. Grady
17. Syd
18. Grady
19. Syd
20. Grady
21. Syd
22. Syd
23. Grady
24. Syd
25. Grady
26. Syd
27. Grady
28. Syd
29. Grady
Epilogue
What’s next?
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
One
Syd
The moment my alarm sounds on my phone Monday morning, I reach for it and promptly fall off my bed face first. Said face hits the carpet hard, my nose taking the brunt of the hit. The only consolation is that I’m alone. Wait, that’s not a good thing, right? Before I can answer myself—and I’m still lying with my face planted in the carpet—my phone rings. The sun is still rising, I’m lying on the carpet with nothing but a t-shirt and panties on, and I know without a doubt, it’s my boss Grady Hawthorne.
I take a moment to pull my head up, resting my weight on my elbows in a sphinx pose. Only I know I don’t look as cool as Jasmine my yoga instructor does when she performs this pose. I probably look more like a cranky calico cat with bad morning breath. My nose stings from the hit it took, and my head is pounding slightly. I really hate freaking Mondays.
My phone stops ringing but I don’t worry. Grady Fucking Hawthorne will call back. He always does because he is convinced the only reason I wouldn’t answer the phone is that I am dead. And it’s not because he cares. He probably just wants to know if he needs to hire a new executive assistant. So, I know he’ll call me back. I’m proven right a minute later when my phone starts ringing again.
I answer it this time.
“What?”
There’s a pause. Since Grady took over the position of CEO eighteen months ago, I’ve been irritated. His father Pete would have never called me at the asscrack of dawn on a Monday morning. I work fifty to sixty hours a week as it is. Pete was a sweetie and had hired me “for his son” since Pete had already announced his retirement. I thought his son would be like him. I was wrong. Oh…so…wrong.
“Good morning to you, Ms. Fillmore,” he says, his tenor slipping over my name. He’s a Texas boy born and raised, and he has that sexy, slow-talking tone. And this is where I get to admit that I have a big old lady-crush on Grady. Or at least my lady parts do. I don’t particularly like him. He’s the type of guy I avoid. He’s kind of bossy—mainly because he is my boss—and considered a bit of a manwhore, or he was until he was named CEO. Before then, he lived in New York and the tabloids loved him. You know the ones who tend to treat women like they are part of a smorgasbord. It’s embarrassing for my gender how many of us have slept with him. But he has one of those faces the camera loves and women like to sit on. So, there’s that. Worse, all I have to do is hear his voice and I’m gushing like Niagara Falls.
“It’s not even dawn yet,
Grady. What’s so important?”
Another pause. He never calls me by my first name, but I always call him by his. It’s weird, but then, so am I, and all my interactions with him are awkward. But, when Pete introduced me to Grady, he used his first name.
“And I see that you woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“More like the wrong side of the carpet.”
There’s a pause and then I realize what that sounds like. Not that I have anything against ladies who like ladies, but…Jesus. I’ve been embarrassing myself since I met him two years ago when his father hired me.
“What I mean is that I fell off my bed, face first.”
“Were you drinking last night?”
“No. Why? Wait, that’s not any of your business.” But still. “I wasn’t drinking last night.”
“Did you set up the meeting with Patterson this morning?”
Oh, for freak’s sake. If he were here, I would throw a pen at him. It’s not like I haven’t done that before. “I texted you about it last night.”
“Hmm.”
What the fuck does that mean? I wait, because I hear him click clacking on his computer keyboard. I lay my head down on the carpet as I calculate the hours until Allison Brady’s bachelorette party. I haven’t been out to party in months and I need this. My best friend Nancy had wanted to go out this past Saturday night, but I decided to stay home and catch up on Hawaii Five-O. And you can judge me all you want, but I like some man candy while I watch shows, and McGarrett fills that bill nicely—even if he doesn’t wear khaki pants anymore. It has nothing to do with my nine-month long dry spell. Okay it does, as does my disappointment in my Friday night date. I actually skipped watching 5-0 live because of it. Jason had been nice enough, gorgeous, but I had been bored to tears. My one-sided date with McGarrett was more stimulating than dinner with Jason.
“Oh, there it is.”
I grit my teeth, then force myself to unclench my jaw before speaking. “So, can I go, or do you need to confirm more crap that’s in your calendar?”
“One of these days, I might fire you.”
And one of these days, I might just set him on fire and roast marshmallows. I blink. That escalated quickly. I tend to get a little violent in my thoughts when I go a long time without getting any.
“Is there anything else?”
“No. I’ll see you when you finally make it into the office.”
Then the line goes dead. I drop my phone and grind my teeth. Finally make it into the office? Fucker. I work a lot of hours, more now that he’s in charge of Hawthorne Enterprises. I get it. He wants to prove to his father that he’s dedicated to the business. I just don’t know how much longer I could take this schedule. I thrive on challenges, and I get why this is so important to Grady, but a girl needs a break every now and then. Thankfully, Thursday will give me a chance to let loose. I only have to hold out until then.
After a quick run and a long shower, I slap on some makeup and get dressed. I would rather put on my rattiest yoga pants and one of my brother’s old shirts and slip back into bed. Instead, I step up to my closet and peruse my offerings. I like clothes. Like…a lot. My brother Travis and I didn’t have the easiest childhood. Our father disappeared around the time I was ten and Travis eight, leaving us with a mother who had mental health issues and a taste for the cheapest liquor. We went hungry more often than not, and I never had the chance to come into San Antonio to shop. Most of our clothes were second hand—which I don’t look down on—but it wasn’t easy growing up like that when your mother was known as the town loon.
Because of that, I have a hard-on for clothes. That’s what my best friend Nancy calls it, and it’s true. I get more excited by a well-cut blouse than I do over any of my recent dates. Okay, most of that might have been that they were all duds, but still. My love of clothes isn’t anything compared to my obsession with shoes. Like I would probably cut a bitch if she touched any of my favorite stilettos. From the moment I had my first decent check, I started collecting them. I have at least one pair from each of my favorite designers. I went a whole two months eating nothing but peanut butter sandwiches so I could afford my first Louboutin. Now I have five pair, including my favorite black boots.
I glance at them, and in an instant, I decide on my outfit for the day. I need to kick Monday’s ass, especially the way it started out. I grab a long black pencil skirt, a red blouse—it is the power color for a reason—and those boots. After a trip to the bathroom to contain my hair into a tight chignon, I get dressed, enjoying the power it gives me. Yeah, I know it makes me kind of materialistic, but I don’t care. Clothes are my drug of choice. One last look in the mirror and I smile. This buoys my spirits more than anything.
I walk in fifteen minutes early to work, a travel mug of coffee in one hand and my phone in the other. I scan through my emails, ignoring the three texts Grady sent me in the last ninety minutes.
“Good morning, Ms. Fillmore.”
I set my phone on my desk and toss a smile at the office manager Jared. That’s right. Grady has an executive assistant slash slave and an office manager. I tend to travel with him everywhere he goes for work because…well, for no other reason than he’s anal. Jared runs everything while we’re out and about and handles any issues dealing with the office at large. I am just the slave that has to deal with Grady up close and personal.
“Morning, Jared. How was your weekend?”
“Great. Went to see the new superhero movie.”
Oh, God, I miss movies. I used to go with Travis all the time, but in the last few months, he’s been out of town—which also means my bestie Nancy has been gone too since she’s his co-host— and, also, I’ve been busy.
“Good?”
He nods. “Mr. Hawthorne has been looking for you.”
“Yes, I have,” Grady says from the doorway. I look over at him and want to roll my eyes at the same time my lady parts are cheering. The man is as beautiful as he is irritating.
He’s dressed in his usual outfit of dress slacks, tailored to give his ass the best possible look, and a dress shirt. Today the combination of slate grey pants and ivory dress shirt—complete with a red tie—makes him especially attractive. But the one thing that always gets me and my ovaries cheering is that freaking vest. He doesn’t always wear them but when he does…GAWD. I know. It’s weird, but a well-dressed man in a vest makes my pussy tingle. His light brown hair has that mussed look that would probably take a normal man hours to achieve. His clear green gaze studies me as if he’s trying to come up with another complaint. Butthead.
“And here I am, early as usual.”
His eyes narrow, and he knows I just challenged him in front of Jared. “You didn’t answer my texts.”
I fight the urge to tell him to stick a rusted fork up his ass. “I was driving in. I thought maybe it was more important that I arrive alive.” Kind of a lie. The last two came after I had parked my car, but he doesn’t know that. “But, yes, I did get those contracts for the new facility outside of Denver. Oh, and I did contact the staff at the Denver house for the trip to inspect the facilities next week.”
Grady’s first real move as CEO is the creation of the Adventure Network, an offshoot from the At Home Network. It’s a big deal and I understand he wants to cross the t’s and dot the i’s. I just wish he would give us all a break. I also understand the importance of this move but give a girl a break here.
“You’re coming, right?”
Not that I want to go, but I know it’s important that I be there. Grady sometimes gets a little too focused on the details. If I’m there, I can keep him from pissing everyone off. I’m the buffer.
“Yes. We’re flying out early Monday morning. Carter and Gavin are coming with us.”
This is a family business and his brothers are as excited about this new network as Grady. The only brother who doesn’t have anything to do Hawthorne Enterprises is Quinn, who is a graphic novelist. Gavin splits his time between New York an
d San Antonio, and Carter is always flitting around opening clubs and drumming up publicity. Grady is always here. Like ALWAYS. There is no taking a week off and giving your staff a break.
“Good. And the car?”
“Yes, the car will pick all of us up.” Thankfully, the company has a Learjet to use. We didn’t until about three years ago from what I understand. His father had crunched the numbers and realized they would save money by using their own jet.
He nods and then turns on his heel and leaves Jared and I alone.
“Well, that was nice,” Jared says with a smile.
“You know what he’s like. Plus, this Adventure Network is a big deal.”
“Syd, my love,” Carter, the youngest and by far the sluttiest of the Hawthornes, says as he walks into the room. All of the Hawthorne brothers are attractive. They’re all tall, but there is no mistaking any of them as their personalities are different. Where Grady is rigid in his schedule, Carter is the opposite. He plays it fast and loose, knows just how to charm the panties off any woman—except me—and he’s always smiling. His hair is brown with auburn highlights, and his eyes are a shade greener than Grady’s.