Hate Notes: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy, page 22
"Of course not,” Cole said, forcing a nervous smile. “She's clearly making this up to—"
"I also have the geological surveys you ordered," I continued. "The demolition cost estimates. Even early marketing materials for the hotels." I laid each document on the podium. "You never cared about preserving these factories. You just wanted the land they sit on."
Cole's face had gone an interesting shade of purple. "That's rich, coming from you. Should I tell everyone why you really took a job at Foster Real Estate? About our little arrangement?"
"I already did." I finally let myself look at Orion. His expression was unreadable, but he hadn't moved, hadn't tried to stop me. "I told Mr. Foster everything. About how you asked me to spy for you, how I thought I could use it as revenge. And how working here changed everything."
I turned back to Davenport. "I made mistakes. Big ones. But I've grown to care about these factories, about the legacy they represent. Which is why I couldn't let either company destroy them."
"Either company?" Cole latched onto my words with a predatory smile. "So Foster Real Estate had similar plans?"
This was the moment of truth. I glanced at Orion again, seeing him straighten in his chair. Again, he gave me the slightest nod, letting me know I had his approval to continue.
Honestly, this was bigger than us, though. I was going to spill these secrets whether Orion liked it or not, but knowing he was going along with it meant everything to me.
"They did," I admitted. "But unlike Cole Northman, Orion Foster had a change of heart. After getting to know Mr. Davenport, Orion quietly threw away the legal transfer documents and shifted his focus to giving Davenport exactly what he wanted.”
“Legal transfer documents?” Davenport asked. “I don’t understand…”
“A legal loophole would allow any management company to take control of the properties in the event of your death, Mr. Davenport. It’s what Orion was briefed on before he approached you and it’s the fact that Cole discovered before he joined the pursuit of your business. Both men made a massive lapse in moral judgment. One man realized it and changed. One was still drafting up plans on how to take advantage of you as recent as yesterday.”
The silence in the room was deafening. Davenport looked between Cole and Orion, his expression grave.
Cole looked victorious, maybe just happy to know he wasn’t the only one being sabotaged here. Orion looked… resolute, like a prisoner receiving a sentence he knew he deserved.
"So neither company can be trusted," Davenport said finally.
"No," I said. “Maybe not completely. But people can change. Companies can change. Which is why Eleanor and I have another proposal."
I pulled out the last document—one I'd spent all night drafting. Orion’s assistant, Daniel, hurried up to the stage like I’d asked and took the document to Davenport. "The factories would be placed in a trust, managed jointly by Foster Real Estate and a board of community members. All proposed changes would require approval from both the business side and the community side. This way, the factories can be updated and made profitable while still preserving their historical significance."
"And who would lead this venture?" Davenport asked.
"That would be up to you, Sir. But I'd suggest someone who understands both the business potential and the human element. Someone who's proven they can change and grow."
My eyes found Orion's again, and this time he held my gaze. I saw the moment he understood what I was suggesting—that this wasn't just about saving the factories or my own redemption. This was my way of showing him I believed in who he could be, who he was becoming.
"An interesting proposal," Davenport said. He turned to Eleanor. "What do you think, old friend?"
Eleanor smiled. "I think it’s never too late to change.”
Davenport raised an eyebrow as the two elderly people shared an oddly charged moment together.
Uh. Had I missed something between them? Something… romantic?
Davenport finally peeled his eyes from Eleanor to look back down at the proposal, which he studied while the room was eerily silent.
I hoped this would work so badly it hurt, but it was out of my hands now.
Now I just had to wait and see what Davenport said.
42
EMBER
The silence stretched so long I thought I might burst. Finally, Davenport cleared his throat. In no apparent hurry, the old man took the stage and waited for me to step aside so he could speak into the microphone. He shot me a quick look and a small smile, then faced the room and spoke.
"Miss Hartwell makes some excellent points about trust and change," he said. "And it took a great deal of courage to do what she did tonight. People do make mistakes. It’s part of being human, and one doesn’t reach my age without learning that lesson hundreds of times over. But Ember did tonight what few are willing to do. She owned her mistakes in front of all of us, even if it meant costing her everything. That is the sort of person I trust.”
“Thank you,” I said softly.
Davenport gave me a small nod, then continued. “I am also deeply troubled by what I’ve learned tonight.”
Cole was already rising, probably ready to spin some explanation, but Davenport silenced him with a look.
"Mr. Northman, you may leave. Your services will not be required."
The satisfaction of watching Cole storm out, face purple with rage, was almost worth everything else. Almost. A few of his employees awkwardly stood and filed out after him. The rest, I assumed, stayed to see how this drama was going to play out.
"As for Foster Real Estate," Davenport continued, "I find myself in an unusual position. On one hand, the original intent to exploit this legal loophole is vile and cruel."
In their previous interactions, I knew Orion would have jumped in now to defend himself or try to spin things in a way to alleviate Davenport’s anger. Tonight, though, Orion just sat patiently, eyes up on the old man and mouth shut.
Davenport’s lips twitched, as if he was noticing the same thing. “While disturbing, Miss Hartwell claims you have changed course completely, young man. That you now seek to protect my factories rather than destroy them? Is this true?”
"Yes," Orion said simply. "Though I don't expect that to excuse my original intentions."
"No," Davenport agreed. "But it does show something equally important—the capacity for growth.”
He lifted the proposal I'd drafted. "This is an innovative solution. One that would preserve these buildings while allowing for necessary modernization. But it would require someone capable of balancing business acumen with genuine care for legacy."
My heart was hammering so hard I could barely breathe.
"Mr. Foster," Davenport said. "Would you be willing to take on such a responsibility? To prove that your change of heart is genuine?"
"Yes, Sir. But..." Orion's eyes found mine. "Only if Miss Hartwell agrees to lead the project. This has been completely her doing, and she deserves the honor of taking charge of it."
A wave of whispers swept the room. I wished I had the podium to hold so I could keep from swaying.
"Well?" Davenport asked, turning to me with twinkling eyes. "Would you be willing to keep my factories safe? To ensure both their profitability and their legacy?"
"I—" My voice cracked. I swallowed and tried again. "Yes. Of course, yes."
"Then it's settled." Davenport smiled, really smiled, for the first time all evening. "Foster Real Estate will manage the properties under the conditions outlined in this proposal. The community board will be established immediately."
The room erupted in applause—mostly from the Foster Real Estate side, though even some Northman Group employees joined in. I barely heard it. I was too focused on Orion, who was making his way toward the stage with purpose in his stride.
He took the steps two at a time, reached for my hand, and before I could process what was happening, he was kissing me in front of everyone.
The applause got louder. I thought I heard Moira shout something surprisingly lewd.
When Orion finally pulled back, he was smiling—really smiling, the kind that reached his eyes and made those dimples appear.
"I have another hate note for you," he murmured, just for me. “This one isn’t blank. I actually wrote it last night…”
"Oh?"
He pulled out a card, and I recognized the familiar logo. But instead of hate, the words made my heart stop. Somehow, he had the whole hate notes logo repurposed so it read “love notes”.
He slid past me and took the microphone from the podium in his hand. He looked at me, but spoke into the mic so everyone could hear.
Dear Miss Hartwell,
I love you.
Orion
"I love you too," I whispered. “That note must have taken you ages to write.”
“Getting the art commissioned took two days,” he said, smirking. “Then there was a mishap with the printer, and I almost had to—”
I grabbed his tie and pulled him down for another kiss.
Someone—probably Julian—shouted "Get a room!"
But for once in my life, I didn't care what anyone thought. I had Orion, I had a job I loved, and I had managed to fix the mess I'd made.
I may have started out looking for petty revenge, but somehow I had stumbled into something so much better.
“Hey,” I said softly as we pulled back from the kiss, hardly feeling the weight of so many eyes on us. “Does this mean we’re ready to… you know.”
A dangerous light flickered in Orion’s eyes. “You want to call me Daddy again?” he asked.
I laughed in surprise. “If you want? I meant… the other thing. The part we haven’t been doing.”
“Oh, right,” Orion said. “I’ll have to check my schedule, but I think I may be free tonight.”
I gave his chest a soft punch, but it probably hurt my hand more than it hurt him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll free up a spot for me. Tonight.”
“Daniel,” Orion called. “Is my schedule clear tonight?”
There were confused looks in the crowd as everyone turned toward Daniel. He pulled out a phone, adjusted his glasses, and looked back up toward the stage. “Um, no, Sir. You have a meeting with a client. And then you—”
“Clear it all,” Orion said easily. “I’m going to be busy.”
“Oh,” Daniel said, nodding. “Yes, Sir. What should I write in for tonight?”
“Just Ember,” Orion said, eyes shifting back to me. In that moment, I felt like the only woman in the world. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.
43
EMBER
For once, the Foster Real Estate office buzzed with genuine excitement instead of nervous energy. People gathered in small groups, discussing the events at the Metropolitan with animation I'd never seen before.
"Did you see Cole's face?" Julian asked for probably the tenth time that morning. "I swear he turned at least three different shades of purple."
"I'm more impressed by what Ember pulled off," Monica said, perching on the edge of my desk. "God, I wish I'd recorded the whole thing."
"I did," Roman said, not looking up from his computer. When we all stared at him, he shrugged. "What? I record all important business meetings."
"Sure you do," Julian smirked. "Nothing to do with knowing this was going to be epic?"
I smiled, letting their banter wash over me as I sorted through the mountain of work ahead. Transforming the factories wouldn't be easy, but for the first time, I felt like I had a real team behind me.
A shadow fell across my desk. I looked up to find Moira standing there, her expression unreadable.
"Walk with me," she said.
My stomach clenched, but I followed her to the break room. To my surprise, she headed straight for the coffee maker.
"The thing about change," she said as she poured two cups, "is that it's terrifying until it happens. Then you wonder why you were so scared in the first place." She handed me one of the cups. "You've changed this place, Ember. And I don't just mean the company's direction."
I took a sip to hide my shock. Was Moira actually being nice to me?
"Thank you?" I managed.
"Don't get used to it," she said, but there was a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Now, about the community board. I have some thoughts..."
The factory's main floor buzzed with activity as construction crews worked on carefully modernizing the space. Orion stood beside me, frowning at the blueprints while I tried not to smile at how adorably serious he looked.
"The museum section needs to be larger," he said.
"I thought profit was your main concern," I teased.
"It was. But look at this." He pulled out his phone, showing me an old photograph Davenport had shared. It showed workers gathered outside the factory, families having a picnic on the lawn. "These people built their lives here. Their stories deserve more than a footnote."
My heart did that funny flip it always did when he showed this softer side. "Who are you and what have you done with Orion Foster?"
"Very funny." But he smiled as he tucked the photo away. "Maybe I'm learning there's more to legacy than just numbers."
"From you? That's practically a love poem."
He caught my hand, thumb brushing over my knuckles. "Don't get used to it. I have a reputation to maintain."
"Oh really?" I gestured to where Julian was giving a tour to community board members, making them laugh with his enthusiasm. "Because from where I'm standing, your reputation is already shot. People actually smile in this building now. Some even laugh."
"A tragedy," he agreed solemnly. "Clearly your influence has ruined everything."
"Clearly." I started to lean in for a kiss, but the sound of approaching footsteps made us jump apart.
"Mr. Foster?" Daniel appeared, looking apologetic. "The historical society is here for their meeting."
"Thank you, Daniel." Orion straightened his tie, CEO mask sliding back into place. But I caught his wink as he turned away. "Miss Hartwell, shall we?"
"After you, Mr. Foster."
As we walked to the meeting, I couldn't help thinking how far we'd come. The factory around us was transforming, becoming something new while honoring what it had been. Kind of like us, really.
"Stop smiling like that," Orion murmured.
"Like what?"
"Like you're thinking sentimental thoughts. It's distracting."
"You love it."
He didn't deny it.
The next few weeks passed in a blur of meetings, planning sessions, and late nights at the office. Davenport insisted on being involved in every detail, though I noticed he scheduled an awful lot of meetings at Eleanor's house.
"For the duck ambiance," he claimed, but no one missed the way they looked at each other across conference tables.
Orion threw himself into the work with characteristic intensity, but something had shifted. He actually listened during meetings now, considered other perspectives. The fear that used to permeate the office had been replaced by something that felt almost like... respect.
"You know what's weird?" Julian said one evening as we were all working late. "I actually kind of like coming to work now."
"Careful," Roman warned. "He might hear you."
"I already did," Orion said, appearing in the doorway. But he was smiling—actually smiling—as he added, "And if any of you repeat that I smiled outside this office, I'll deny everything."
"There's the boss we know and fear," Julian said cheerfully.
I caught Orion's eye across the room, saw the warmth there that he no longer tried to hide. We still had our moments of friction—he was still Orion after all, and I was still me—but now they felt more like sparks than explosions.
"Speaking of our fearless leader," Monica stage-whispered, "when are you two going to make it official?"
"Make what official?" I asked innocently.
"Please," she scoffed. "The whole office has a betting pool on when he's going to propose."
I nearly choked on my coffee. "What?"
"I've got fifty on Christmas," Julian offered.
"A hundred on New Year's," Roman added without looking up.
"Better odds than Patricia Rosh got," Monica chimed in. "Did you hear what happened to Hate Notes?"
"No?" I perked up with interest.
"Apparently after Orion kept bribing away all her employees, she tried to pivot to 'Love Notes' instead. But the market for paying someone to deliver romantic messages isn't quite as robust as angry ones." Monica grinned. "Last I heard, she sold the company to some startup that's turning it into a singing telegram service."
"Complete with the red uniforms?" I asked.
"Of course. Though I hear they added sequins."
"An improvement," I decided, thinking of how far we'd all come from those morning confrontations on the steps.
“Maybe Orion could use them to propose now that they’ve changed their tune. A singing proposal!,” Julian mused with a smile. “Seems just like something Orion would do.”
“Hardly my style,” Orion said, but his words weren’t a denial that he was planning on proposing.
I nearly choked when I realized and tried to cover my surprise with a casual smile. “Yeah, Orion would probably send his proposal in a spreadsheet, or maybe a memo.”
Everybody laughed, but there was something mysterious in the smile Orion wore and the twinkle in his eyes—something that made my stomach do a few looping jumps.
44
EPILOGUE - EMBER
THREE MONTHS LATER
"Are you seriously rearranging your duck spreadsheet again?" Kora burst into my office at the Davenport factory without knocking. "Because I have news that's way better than Eleanor's latest ceramic acquisition."
