A Playboy's Dilemma

Pov

Bryce

My dad's timing couldn't have been worse.

I went back inside the building, irritated by his sudden appearance. He had walked into my office while I was out and then called demanding a meeting.

Right when I was talking to the cute intern.

But Sal Hollis wasn't a man who liked to wait. I could blow off a lot of people, but there was no blowing off my dad. It didn’t matter that I was now the CEO.

As I rode the elevator up, I thought about clumsy Cora and grinned. God, she was something else. As if this morning's little file fiasco wasn't entertaining enough, her toilet paper heist was a whole new level of amusement. It had been a while since I met a woman who caught my attention like that.

It wasn’t just because she was clumsy. She was nothing like any of the women I'd been with. She was just... different.

And incredibly beautiful. Long blonde hair, a doll-like face, and those big doe eyes. Innocent. Though her sweet, round butt made me want to do naughty things with her.

And the way she kept blushing. When was the last time a woman blushed when I complimented her? It must've been years. The women I hung out with thought they were God’s gift to mankind.

Cora was nothing like that. Shy, sweet, modest. And that made me want her. Badly.

But it wasn’t going to happen. Not with her. She was too innocent, despite her little office crime. She'd probably report me to HR if I flirted with her.

Such a shame.

The elevator doors opened on the top floor.

"He's in his office, sir," Terri, my secretary, said. She was a workhorse and always the last employee to leave at night.

"What mood's he in?" I asked.

Terri gave me wide-eyed look.

I was screwed. But I should've known. This was the first time my dad had come to the office since I took over as CEO six months ago. Something was off.

My dad had groomed me to take over his company all my life. Now, at thirty, I was finally in charge.

Or at least, I was the new figurehead. My dad was still the Big Guy behind the scenes, telling me how to run his empire, how to navigate his damn ship.

I had a feeling I knew what this meeting was about. He was here to chew me out over my latest scandal: the publicity with the models. Miss June, Miss July, and Miss August. It had been an endless summer, all in one weekend.

A man doesn't turn down a challenge, and there wasn’t a woman out there I couldn't get. Five grand proved I was right. My buddy Chaz was probably still sore about it.

Man, it had been a hell of a weekend. But truth be told, I got bored after Miss June. They were all the same. And I didn’t mean because they were also chosen as calendar models.

The hookups were getting tedious.

I was shocked by the thought. But it was true.

Women slept with me because I was Bryce Hollis, the city's wealthiest man. I was a notch on their bedposts as much as they were on mine. I didn’t remember their names any longer than I needed to — when I forgot, a pet name like baby, honey, or love worked just fine. And they weren’t interested in getting to know me. The real me.

Lately, I was just going through the motions.

When I got to my office, I froze at the door. My dad was sitting behind the desk. My desk.

This annoyed me. But it had been his desk just a few months ago, so I shrugged it off. I sat down across from him, feeling like a guest in my own office.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"You know why I'm here."

I sighed. "Is it about the women again?" It always was about the women.

"I don’t know why you take such pleasure in annoying me, Bryce. But it’s not about me. It’s about the company."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "What I do in my personal life, and who I sleep with, has nothing to do with the company."

"No, you're right," my father said, clasping his fingers together. "It's the fact that you have to make headlines every time. You can’t just play behind closed doors, can you? You have to let the world know you have a dick and know how to use it."

I laughed at my dad's choice of language. He didn't curse unless he was really upset.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I just don't see what this has to do with the company."

"The board of directors is upset, Bryce. They see the news too. And they’re not happy."

"Why can't they mind their own business?"

My dad slammed his fist on my desk, making the papers jump. "This isn’t a damn joke! I know you don't care about this company. Maybe you'd be happy to throw it away at the first chance you get, but I’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this place to leave a legacy for you."

I clenched my jaw, my anger rising in contrast to my father’s. I was a lot of things—a disappointment, a bastard, a womanizer. But I cared about the company.

My father took a deep breath, trying to control himself.

"Asking you to change won't work. God knows I've talked to you about this a thousand times. So, I’m bringing in a publicist to get the company’s image back on track."

"You what?" I asked, shock replacing anger.

"You heard me." My father looked towards the door. As if on cue, a woman walked in. She was older but fit. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly into a ponytail, and she had sharp eyes.

"This is Allison Evans," my father said. "This is her specialty."

Mrs. Evans waved at me. "Nice to meet you, Bryce. We'll be working together as I help manage your public relations."

"I don't think that's necessary," I said.

"And I don’t care," my father shot back. "Allison is here to keep you on the right path so you don’t sink a company I’ve worked thirty years to build. The investors are threatening to pull out, Bryce. Two of them suggested looking elsewhere. That makes the board nervous. Son, it's your job to keep the investors interested and the board happy. It’s time to court them instead of these women you like so much."

I cringed. I wasn’t my father; he did business differently than I ever would. But just because I didn’t do things his way, and because I played around, didn’t mean I didn’t work hard. The company was as important to me as it was to my father.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked with a sigh. If he needed me to work with this woman to prove I was serious about the company, I would. Whatever it took. How hard could it be?

"Do you know what’s in your contract, Bryce?" Allison asked.

I didn’t like the way she spoke to me. She talked to me like I was a clueless high schooler.

"Of course, I know what’s in it," I said, trying not to sound as irritated as I felt.

"Then you’re familiar with the morality clause."

I grimaced. "Morality clause? That's for married employees. That doesn't apply to me."

Allison looked at my father, who turned his head to the window. He was washing his hands of it all.

"The morality clause gives the employer the right to terminate the employment contract based on an employee's conduct that negatively affects the company," she said without missing a beat.

I blinked at her. "Jesus, did you swallow a dictionary?" I grinned at my own joke, but Allison didn’t seem impressed.

"Do you understand what that means?" she asked.

I sighed, the smile still on my face. "Yes, but I don't see how that applies to me."

"It means," my father interjected, "that you are legally obligated to uphold a certain image."

I narrowed my eyes. "You want me to stop fooling around."

"Yes," my father said. "Exactly. If you don’t do something about your playboy status, you’re out of the company for good."

"I'm the CEO," I said defiantly. "Not an employee. Who's going to fire me?"

"I will," my father said simply. "I might have retired and handed the company over to you. But if you don’t shape up and start acting like the owner of Hollis Marketing, I’ll make sure the board votes against you, Bryce." I grew upset again. "You can’t do that," I said.

But I knew my father was right; he could. And he would. If there was one thing that mattered to him in this world, it was his company. He could ditch me—his only son—in a heartbeat. But he’d fight tooth and nail to save his true baby: his business.

It had been like this since I was a kid.

"Did you forget about the probationary period?" Dad asked.

My ears perked up.

"Your father informed me about your one-year probation," Allison offered. "During this period, the board can remove you if they deem it necessary."

"Ah, yes," I murmured. That rang a bell. I had somehow forgotten about that.

"Right," Dad said. "And you still have six months left on probation. So, you better shape up fast. And you better do it well, because Stark is determined to get you out of here."

"Alright," I said, standing up and turning towards the door.

"Leaving so soon?" my father asked.

"I don’t see what else we have to discuss. You’ve made yourself clear. I need to fix my playboy image." I looked at Allison. "Would getting married suffice?"

She blinked, surprised. So, breaking that stone-cold expression of hers wasn’t that hard.

"I... I think so. Yes."

Dad scoffed. "He's not serious. He's messing with you."

"Send me a list of what you want me to stop doing," I said. "Better yet, send me a list of what I should do, because that list would be shorter. Then I’ll get started."

I turned and left the office before my father or Allison Evans could respond.

"Goodnight, sir," Terri said from her desk as I walked to the elevator. I pressed the button and entered without responding, furrowing my brow as the doors closed.

I couldn’t believe it. A morality clause? I didn’t recall that in my contract. Then again, I never really read the damn thing. When my father retired, I signed on the dotted line to get what was coming to me, and that was it. I didn’t think I’d have to pore over it with my lawyer. It was a family business, for God's sake.

But then, my father was the one who drafted the contract in the first place. Maybe that should have been warning enough for me to check.

I seethed as I descended to the lobby. Damn playboy image. I wouldn’t be allowed to have fun if I wanted to appease the board and investors. And there was no way in hell I was leaving. I cared about this company. I might have acted like a partying kid sometimes, but I was also a damn hard worker. My business meant the world to me.

If I lost it, there’d be nothing left for me. I’d be lost.

So, that settled it. I’d just have to conform to this messed-up image they wanted of me. I could do anything for six months.

But merely staying out of nightclubs wouldn’t cut it for the board of directors. I already knew they were looking for any excuse to push me out. I just didn’t know how easy it would be for them with the morality clause. After the antics with the three models, they could already be working behind the scenes to vote me out.

I had to act fast. And I had to make it spectacular.

The elevator doors chimed, and I strode through the lobby. When I stepped out of the building, the wind cut through my coat, and I raised the collar. Clumsy Cora popped into my mind. Despite the hellish meeting I’d just had, I couldn’t help but smile.

The smile vanished again when I thought about my public image and how I’d have to stop fooling around.

Cora was the kind of woman even Allison Evans would approve of.

As I got into my car, a light bulb went off in my head.

Maybe getting married wasn’t such a bad idea.

I’d been sarcastic when I asked the publicist about marriage. But now, a wife seemed increasingly appealing. Someone who could keep up the act for a while, make me look like the good guy. It wouldn’t be forever, right? People divorced all the time.

If I could find someone wholesome and sweet to pose as my wife and get the board members off my back, then I could do it.

And Clumsy Cora was the perfect woman for the job.