Merry Misunderstandings

Building Tension

Vivienne POV

“Morning, Foxxy-Vi. Or should I say, Princess Vi?” Grayson grinned, leaning against the doorway.

“What’s next—Duchess of Drama?” he smirked, walking into the office with two cups of coffee in hand. She’d been able to avoid him over the last few days, after the diner incident, but unfortunately, they had a meeting with the contractors today about the renovations of the restaurant, so she had no choice but to be near him.

“Are you here for something other than proving you’re still in high school?” She snapped. She was having a really bad morning already. Hayden had been calling her non stop under the guise of wanting to talk about their apartment, but when she’d finally answered, it had soon turned into pleas to forgive him. He hadn’t meant to cheat on her, no, he was—you’re not going to believe this one—afraid to lose his job if he refused the boss’ daughter. It was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard.

And she’d told him that before she’d hung up the phone. Though talking to him had brought up emotions she’d tried so hard to push down. She’d been so focused on her anger that she hadn’t made room for her other emotions.

Pain, betrayal, humiliation… Why did men treat her this way? She’d always gone with the safe choice, afraid to get hurt, yet that was always what happened.

It had happened in high school, and it had happened now.

When Grayson placed a styrofoam cup on her desk, Vivienne eyed it warily. Was this another one of his games? Did he really think she’d forget years of teasing just because he remembered how she liked her coffee? Men didn’t change, no matter how they dressed up their motives.

“What’s this?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Coffee,” Grayson stated, taking a sip of his own.

“I can see that, but why?” She asked, taking the cup to smell it.

Grayson let out a deep chuckle. “I’m not going to poison you, Vivienne, if I wanted you dead, you would be already.” Vivienne rolled her eyes. He was insufferable, as always.

“Could you close the door?” she asked, as a cool breeze seemed to blow through the office. She stood up to put on her sweater.

“Oooh, okay,” Grayson smirked, walking slowly before shutting it dramatically, “should I lock it?” He suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows, his tone dropping an octave.

Vivienne’s eyes connected with his. She wanted to roll her eyes, put him in his place with a snide remark, but the way his eyes darkened sent a jolt straight to her core. Her eyes darted to the stubble on his jaw, and she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers over it.

The tension in the air was palpable, like a current running between them. Grayson held her eyes as he approached her slowly. Vivienne swallowed heavily, unable to move her feet. All she could do was stumble back, until her back hit the wall.

“Or we could leave it unlocked,” Grayson whispered. Suddenly, too close to her. She could feel the heat of his chest radiating against her, his warm breath caressing her skin. He smelled like coffee, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he would taste that way too.

When he placed his large hand on her hip, Vivienne’s skin erupted with goosebumps, and she could even feel her n*****s hardening against the soft fabric of her silky bra.

Vivienne’s breath hitched when his hand slid to her ass and he cupped her butt cheek.

A knock on the door, thankfully, broke the spell between them.

“This isn’t over,” Grayson winked, buttoning his jacket and making his way to the door. Vivienne made a mental note to leave the door open from now on. And to get new batteries for her vibrator. She was going to need them.

After Carmen announced the arrival of the candidate contractors, Vivienne and Grayson made their way to the restaurant. Each had invited someone they believed would best match their vision. Vivienne had selected Marcus Hayes, an established contractor known for his high-end, detail-oriented designs. Grayson, on the other hand, had brought in Declan Reid, a rising star in modern renovations who valued efficiency and bold aesthetics.

Vivienne’s cheeks still burned as she followed Grayson, clipboard in hand. She had no idea how this meeting would go—especially after that moment in the office earlier—but one thing was certain: she wasn’t about to let Grayson bulldoze her ideas.

“So,” Grayson began, his smug tone cutting through her thoughts, “are you ready to ruin this space with your country-chic Pinterest ideas, or should we stick to something people actually want to dine in?”

Vivienne rolled her eyes. “People want warmth and charm, not some cold industrial nightmare.”

Grayson gestured dramatically to the room. “Warmth and charm? What, are we serving apple pie in rocking chairs? This place needs edge.”

“Edge?” Vivienne snorted. “Like the edge of your ego?”

By the time they reached the contractors, their bickering had burned off just enough steam for them to fall into step. Vivienne took a deep breath, forcing her shoulders to relax, and Grayson straightened his tie. They approached the candidates with practiced smiles—pretending they weren’t one sharp comment away from a shouting match.

The morning dragged into the early afternoon as they hashed out their respective visions for the restaurant. Vivienne leaned heavily on warmth and timeless elegance, while Grayson championed sleek modernity and bold contrasts. The contractors listened politely, though it was clear they were taking mental notes about who to humor.

Declan clearly favored Grayson’s vision of the restaurant, nodding enthusiastically as Grayson described sleek steel fixtures and bold accent walls. He was efficient and professional, and though Vivienne couldn’t deny he knew his craft, he also seemed overly eager to please Grayson.

After Declan wrapped up his presentation, Vivienne exchanged a polite handshake with him while Grayson clapped the man on the shoulder, smirking smugly as if the decision had already been made.

Then it was Marcus’s turn.

From the moment Marcus stepped forward, his demeanor shifted the atmosphere. His confident smile and easy charm were disarming, and Vivienne couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to direct most of his attention toward her.

As Marcus gestured around the room, explaining his ideas for how the space could transform into a warm, inviting haven, he frequently met Vivienne’s gaze, his tone turning playful whenever he addressed her.

“And here,” Marcus said, pointing toward the corner where the sun pooled in through the large windows, “you could add a cozy nook for small gatherings or intimate dinners. Your idea of creating a welcoming environment would really shine here, Ms. Wood.”

Vivienne blinked. “Oh, that’s a great idea,” she said, trying to ignore the heat creeping into her cheeks. “It would complement the rest of the space nicely.”

Grayson cleared his throat, stepping closer. “What about functionality?” His tone was sharp. “We’re not running a homey café; this is a high-volume restaurant. You really think wasting prime space for a ‘nook’ is practical?”

Marcus smiled, unbothered. “It’s a balance, Mr. Blackwood. Aesthetic appeal and functionality can coexist—if done right.”

Grayson’s jaw tightened, but before he could retort, Marcus turned back to Vivienne. “But of course, the final decision is yours. I’d be happy to work closely with you to make it perfect.”

Vivienne’s stomach flipped at the suggestion, though she tried to keep her expression neutral. “Well, thank you, Marcus. That’s very thoughtful.”

Grayson’s annoyed huff was barely audible, but Vivienne caught the sharp glance he threw Marcus’s way, and it was hard not to smirk.

As the interview deepened, so did Grayson’s frown. After yet another flirtatious remark from Marcus, Grayson leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “Tell me, Marcus, how often do your clients find your... personal charm part of the deal?”

Marcus smiled, unphased. “Only when it’s a good fit. And I’d say this project has a lot of potential.”

He glanced at Vivienne with a wink. Grayson’s jaw tightened. “Potential for what exactly?”

“For growth,” Marcus shrugged. After they led the contractors out, Vivienne was both hungry and tired—a bad combination for any woman.

She took a seat at one of the vacant tables and grabbed a menu. When Grayson took a seat next to her, she barely spared him a glance.

“This counts as this weeks dinner date then,” She drawled.

“Fine,” Grayson shrugged. They talked about their options during the meal, both of them defending their choice.

“You don’t seriously think Marcus the best fit just because he shared your cottagecore vision,” Grayson snapped. Their tempers were both rising again.

“This isn’t about vision,” Vivienne shot back. “This is about you acting like a jealous jerk because someone paid me a compliment!”

“Jealous?” Grayson barked a laugh. “Trust me, Princess, I don’t need to be jealous of Marcus Hayes.”

Her cheeks burned.

Vivienne stood abruptly, glaring down at Grayson. “Oh, of course, because you’re the expert on everything, aren’t you? Maybe you should just take over the whole project. Why even bother asking for my input if you’ve already decided?”

Grayson leaned back in his chair, his smirk maddeningly smug. “Glad we’re on the same page. It’d save us both a lot of headaches.”

Vivienne’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You are impossible! For once, just admit that someone else might have a better idea than you.”

“Better idea? From a guy who can’t stop winking at you like we’re in some rom-com?” He snorted, standing to match her stance. “Yeah, real professional.”

“At least Marcus listens to me,” Vivienne shot back, her voice rising. “Unlike you, who just bulldozes over every suggestion I make because God forbid you’re not the one in charge!”

Grayson’s nostrils flared, and he took a step closer. “You’re so desperate for validation that a pretty smile and a compliment are all it takes to sway you? You’re smarter than that, Vivienne. Act like it.”

The words hit harder than they should have, but she refused to let him see the sting. Instead, she stepped closer, her voice sharp and low. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his jaw tight, “but I know enough to see when someone’s letting their emotions cloud their judgment.”

“Unbelievable,” Vivienne hissed, shaking her head as she turned toward the door. “You are exactly why I avoid working with men like you.”

“And you’re exactly why I avoid working with anyone at all!” he shot back, his voice following her out the door.

Vivienne stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her anger bubbling over into frustration and... something else she refused to name.

She tossed her clipboard onto the desk with more force than necessary, muttering under her breath about egotistical men and their infuriating need to be right all the time. But no matter how much she tried to push the memory of Grayson’s sharp, accusing tone from her mind, it lingered, sparking a mix of irritation and heat that made her pacing restless.

A knock on the door startled her, and she froze. For a moment, she considered ignoring it. But then Grayson’s voice filtered through the wood.

“Vivienne. Open up.”

She crossed her arms, her heart racing for a completely different reason now. “What do you want?”

There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his tone was low, quiet. “Let’s blow off some steam.”