“Bridget Lancaster, my former boss.”
He strokes his jaw and nods slowly. “Let me guess, you quit after she changed your video and posted it on their social media feed?”
“I was fired when she saw that I gave the resort five stars.”
His brow tightens. “I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, me either. Apparently, Bridget sent me to the mountains as punishment and expected a scathing review. When I didn’t deliver, she axed me and finished the job herself.”
Wyatt presses his lips together, grabs his phone from his pocket and opens TikTok, searching forVacationer’s Paradise. He exhales a whistle when he sees video after video of negative reviews on a multitude of locations.
“We should take this bitch down,” Wyatt says.
“I’m pretty sure your brother has his attorney already on the situation.”
“No, like Bridget needs to be taken down,” Wyatt repeats. “You don’t understand; this woman has been a menace from the beginning. She’s best friends with his ex-wife. There’s a lot of history between them.”
“Ancient history,” Logan says when he walks by and overhears part of the conversation. “Why are we discussing Bridget?”
“Have you seen the shit she’s done to other resorts?” Wyatt leaps up from the sofa and shoves his phone in Logan’s face. “The woman is a menace. We might be able to push a class action suit—”
“Shut it!” Logan growls at his brother. “We’re not pushing anything. It’s better if Bridget buries herself in stupid videos that no one watches. Leave it alone.”
“We can’t,” Wyatt says, unable to stop himself from letting it go. “Have you seen how many views her account has? Apparently, being mean makes you viral.”
“I don’t care. Not another word abouther,” Logan seethes. At least his anger is no longer directed at me and is instead at the woman I used to work for. A woman from his past.
* * *
I swear Logan avoids me the rest of the week, except when we’re discussing business matters like content to post. He gives me his approval without a smile or a hint of pleasure in what he does.
He’s the master of all that is grumpy. And I’m constantly tiptoeing around the man, which is annoying as hell.
Why did I do this to myself? Agree to work under the man who hates me?
There were other ways to punish myself that didn’t involve Mountain Grump. I can’t get his heated stare out of my head from when he was in the hotel room with me.
I should have kissed him. Our lips were close enough that I could practically feel his touch.
Maybe then I could have warmed his heart of ice.
I’m off the clock at five, and I leave the resort and take a local shuttle bus that takes guests from the resort to the shopping district and back.
My head swims, and my stomach has been bloated like I’m about to burst. I head for the nearest drug store, because when I do the math, I should have had my period four weeks ago and I’m way beyond late.
I’m fucked.
I cannot be pregnant.
There were pregnancy tests at the resort in the gift shop, but I’m not taking a chance that anyone I work with will see me buy the test.
And if I’m pregnant, what then?
There’s only one man I’ve slept with in the past two months: Logan Henderson. If I’m pregnant, undoubtedly, it’s his child.
I can’t let my mind wander beyond that scenario itself. It’s terrifying. Nauseating. I want to throw myself off the moving bus and would sooner get hit by traffic than face the fact that the man who is now my boss might also be the father of my unborn child.
Well, he doesn’t write my paychecks, but I do report to him.