Merry Misunderstandings

Making Rules

Vivienne POV

The attic room had surprised Vivienne. There was a dormer window, with a great outlook of the town. The room was spacious and light, with rustic wooden beams and a plush double bed tucked under an inclined ceiling. It had a countryside charm, a small walk-in closet, and an ensuite with vintage brass fixtures—one thing in this place, at least, that didn’t need fixing.

She woke up in high spirits, ready to bring this business to its former glory. Changing into a cream-colored business suit after a quick shower, Vivienne made her way to the lobby, clipboard in hand, a beaming smile on her face, ready to meet the staff and take stock of the place.

“Good morning!” she smiled at the energetic blonde behind her side of the lobby. “I’m Vivienne Wood, the new owner,” The blonde shook her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Chloe Hart,” Vivienne could already tell that they would be getting along really well.

“Nice to meet you, Chloe.” Vivienne smiled. “I’m going to be introducing myself to the rest of the staff today, and I’ll be checking out the place, taking notes on what definitely needs construction work, so we can restore this place back to its former glory.”

“Oh, that sounds great!” Chloe giggled.

Vivienne glanced at the worn wallpaper on her side of the lobby, where curling edges and dull tiles betrayed years of neglect. Her lips pressed into a thin line. No wonder this side wasn’t pulling in customers. She turned her gaze toward Grayson’s domain— it’s black wooden paneling, exposed brick walls and black metal accents. He’d even gotten those expensive Edison bulbs. It was like stepping into a design magazine. Of course, he had a head start.

“Well, Chloe, if you have any suggestions for improvement, I’d be happy to hear them.” Vivienne noticed Grayson’s receptionist and decided to introduce herself. She walked over, hand extended.

“Hello, I’m—”

“So nice of you to join us in the trenches, Vivienne Wood,” the woman said, her smile tight, her eyes assessing Vivienne’s cream-colored suit. “Or are we supposed to call you the queen of the manor now?”

Vivienne resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, Carmen Diaz hadn’t changed. She still had that familiar edge, like someone who smiled while sharpening a knife.

“Carmen, right? From high school,” Vivienne said, keeping her tone polite.

“Ah, you do remember me. What a relief,” Carmen said, tapping her nails on the desk, a sound as clipped as her tone.

“Yes, well, it was nice to meet you,” Vivienne said, her tone cool but polite. She turned away, relieved to have dodged more of Carmen’s barbs, when the lobby door swung open.

Grayson strolled in, his presence immediately commanding attention. Clipboard in hand, he looked effortlessly put together in a crisp button-down and dark jeans.

Carmen’s eyes lit up, and her voice turned syrupy. “Morning, Grayson!”

Grayson barely glanced her way, his focus locking onto Vivienne. “Vivienne,” he said, his voice smooth, with a teasing edge. “How’s the first day treating you? Let me guess—already overwhelmed?”

She squared her shoulders, forcing a calm she didn’t entirely feel. “I’m fine, thanks. Just meeting the staff and taking notes on what needs improvement.”

“Then why don’t I come with you?” he suggested, falling into step beside her before she could protest.

“Why?” Her brow arched.

His smirk deepened. “To show people we can work together. Or try to, at least.”

Vivienne glanced at him sidelong. “Funny, when I heard Blackwood’s grandson was taking over, I was hoping it’d be Jack.”

Grayson laughed softly, undeterred. “Jack would charm everyone into getting what he wants. I prefer to earn it.”

“You’re right about one thing, Grayson,” she replied, her tone dripping with mock sweetness.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” His smirk widened, as if daring her.

“You’re not charming.”

Grayson chuckled. “That’s because I save my charm for people who deserve it.”

“I don’t need you following me, Grayson. I can handle this. Alone.” She said, stopping him in his tracks, before striding away.

The day unfolded in a whirlwind of meetings, inspections, and mental notes. By the afternoon, her to-do list had grown to a daunting length.

She retreated to the shared office, relieved that Grayson wasn’t there. She huffed and plopped down at the vacated desk, pulling up the list of contractors she had on her phone. She needed to get as many quotes as possible.

October had started by a week, giving her only a few weeks before the busy holiday season would begin.

“Yes, that’s right, for remodeling mostly, but I would also like someone to take a look at the pipes, make sure that everything is working correctly—Hmm—that’s fine. Yes, okay, just send it through. Thank you, bye,” She ended the call, sighing while she looked at all the people she still needed to contact.

“Looking for someone to take a look at your pipes, huh?”

Grayson’s smooth voice cut through her concentration like nails on a chalkboard. He leaned casually against his desk, biting into an apple like he owned the world—or at least half of it.

“I can fix that problem for you, you know,” he added with a wink.

Vivienne didn’t even look up. “Cringe,” she muttered, jotting down notes in her planner.

“You know, Grayson, if this is going to work, we need a few ground rules.” She stood up and walked toward him.

“Or,” he countered, straightening up with a smug grin, “you could just sell me your half of the B&B and save yourself the trouble.”

“Tempting,” she shot back, finally meeting his eyes. “But no.” To be honest, letting him buy her family out would have been the sanest option. But her grandfather had been clear. Vivienne would only inherit the rest of the Woodland Manor B&Bs if and only if she dealt with Grayson and made the B&B whole again.

“First rule: we need a timetable for using the office. I don’t want to look at you while I’m working.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Or you could just find another room. There’s a perfectly good attic, you know.”

“Let’s not make this harder than it has to be,” she said through gritted teeth. Grayson didn’t budge, but picked an invisible lint from his suit instead.

“Fine, we’ll continue to share the office. But I have another rule. No stepping into each other’s territory unless invited. That includes renovations.”

Grayson smirked, a spark of amusement lighting up his eyes. “Fine. But I have some rules too.”

“Oh, this should be good.” Vivienne crossed her arms, bracing herself.

“Dinner together twice a week,” he said smoothly.

She blinked. “Why on earth—”

“Just to keep up this little charade,” he interrupted. “We don’t want the guests thinking we’re at each other’s throats. And Friday? Ponytail day.”

“Ponytail day?” she repeated, incredulous. He was making up these stupid rules on purpose, just to get under her skin.

He shrugged. “It’s distracting when your hair’s everywhere.”

Vivienne’s jaw tightened. “Lunch and dinner,” She countered. “Not two dinners, but one lunch, and one dinner.”

“I can live with that.” Grayson shrugged, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“We should think about cutting down the kitchen staff,” Vivenne said.

“Sounds logical,” he nodded.

“I think that’s about it. Would you like to add anything?” She asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’m in the meeting with the contractors about the pipes,” he added, stepping closer. “Shared utilities, shared decisions.”

Vivienne bristled, taking a step closer. “Let me make one thing clear, Blackwood: I don’t need your help, your opinions, or your… charm to fix this place.”

“Charm?” His grin widened, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you do think I’m charming?”

She rolled her eyes, turning away before her cheeks could betray her. “Go back to your side, Grayson.”

“Fine,” he said, still smirking as he backed out the door. “But don’t say I didn’t offer. And Vivienne? Breaking the rules means an extra dinner.”