Merry Misunderstandings

Rules

Vivienne POV

Vivienne went straight to work after her grandfather had left—taking notes on what she wanted to change, making a list of priorities as well as going through the list of contractors she’d gotten from her grandfather.

It was the end of September—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,”

“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 convinced him to sell out.

“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 we have to make a few rules about the kitchen and dining area.”

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 sharing the kitchen staff. It’s absurd to both pay for a chef,” 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.”

She glared up at him, refusing to back down. “Fine. But stay out of my way.”

Grayson’s grin widened. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

For the past few days, the truce between Vivienne and Grayson had gone surprisingly well. They stuck to their shared rules, begrudgingly acknowledging the necessity of teamwork, and even managed polite conversation during their scheduled lunch. But all of that unraveled when a call came in from a prominent lifestyle magazine.

Grayson had spoken to the interviewer on the phone, and Vivian was surprised that he’d told her about the meeting time. Then again, it would be a huge opportunity for their business, so it did make sense.

“Good morning,”

Vivienne was momentarily taken aback when she stepped out of the elevator—only to find Grayson waiting for her. She’d decided to move into the attic a few days ago, and she had to admit that it worked perfectly.

“Good…morning,” She warily spoke, wondering why he was being so friendly. Was this because of their truce, or was something else going on?

“Don’t look at me like that.” Grayson chuckled, “I just want our interview to go well, a lot is riding on this. Look, I even went to Maggie’s to get that coffee you like,” he said, handing her a Styrofoam cup. Wait?! He knew what coffee she liked?

“Thank you,” Vivienne spoke, before taking a sip. They walked side by side in complete silence, as they approached the dining room. They’d decided to meet the reporter on shared ground, so they could wow him with their own half each in turn.

“You must be Elliot Thorne,” Grayson smoothly cut in as they approached an older man in a suite accompanied by two women. One was holding a notepad while the other was holding a camera.

“You must be Grayson Blackwood,” The reporter stood up and shook Grayson’s hand, before turning to her.

“And you must be Vivienne Wood. Grayson has told me a lot about you,” the man smiled.

“He has?” Vivienne asked, her eyebrows shot up as she eyed Grayson.

“This is the photographer for the magazine, Jade Harper. And this is my assistant, Penny Aldridge.” After they exchanged pleasantries, Vivienne quickly finished her coffee, getting ready to be interviewed.

“As I’ve already told you, our magazine wants to feature unique local businesses, and the B&B is perfect for our "modern meets classic" series. As I mentioned, only one half of the B&B will be featured,” Elliot said, giving both Vivienne and Grayson a pointed look. “It’s a competitive column, and we want the most compelling story for our readers. Let’s start with the tour today, and I’ll return tomorrow for the interview and photography.”

Vivienne tried to stay composed, but Grayson’s triumphant smirk made her blood boil.

Vivienne enthusiastically led them around her half, sharing all the place’s history she’d learned from her grandfather. The reporter seemed to be very interested—despite Grayson’s snorts.

It wasn’t until they were in Grayson’s half of the B&B, that her stomach started churning violently. She tried to smile through the discomfort, leaning against the wall and puffing every time the group entered a room before her—giving her a few seconds to try and regroup, but after a few more minutes, she had no other choice but to make up a desperate excuse and run to the bathroom.

“Oh no, don’t rush back,” Grayson called after her, his voice oozing faux concern. “I’ll handle things here.” Vivienne’s eyes widened shortly, before they narrowed.

The coffee.

Every second she spent on the toilet was a second she thought of ways to get back at Grayson.

An hour later, after the laxative or whatever he’d put in her coffee had passed, she stalked back to the office.

“What did you do to my coffee?” She grated out, disturbing the silence of the room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grayson said, faking innocence.

“I do have some bad news though—for you. After your inconvenient dismissal of the magazine’s staff, they’ve decided to go with my half of the B&B,” Grayson stood up and buttoned his jacket.

“Anyway, see you tomorrow, I’m calling it a day.”

“Calling it a day? It’s not even noon!” She called out after him. Grayson paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“Oh, but it seems my work here is done,” he winked.

“You son of a b—” Grayson shut the door before she could finish.

Vivienne paced furiously, running through every possible way to make Grayson pay for the laxative stunt. Trash his desk? Tempting, but too obvious. Public humiliation? No, she needed something more devious until an idea hit her like a divine intervention— a slow, malicious smirk crept up her lips as she fished her cellphone from her pocket and quickly googled the nearest reptile food supply store.

“Yes, I’d like to order two dozen live cockroaches, please,” She said in a silky sweet voice.

“You know what, make that five dozen.”