Corporate life can be a jungle.

Pro tip: Don’t let human resources hear you bickering with your co-CEO. That’s how you end up stuck with your nemesis on a corporate retreat in the Costa Rican jungle.

It’s hardly fair that Bridget, a twenty-year veteran of the company, is stuck sharing the job she deserves with hot-shot Cole, a newcomer who’s also nine years her junior. Or that he looks so sexy in a rain-soaked T-shirt. Or that his voice gets all growly when he’s trying to boss her around.

The retreat will determine who wins the CEO job, so Bridget can’t let Cole beat her. Still, when they find themselves teaming up on hikes and in kayaks, the steam doesn’t stay in the hot springs. 

An affair between co-CEOs is off-limits, so when they return to the office, they must choose between their newfound relationship and their hearts’ desire: the job they both desperately want.

Swoon for this spicy age-gap (she’s older!), single-dad, rivals-to-lovers workplace romantic comedy featuring a hero and a heroine who want the same thing: to be the boss.

Tropes

• Age gap (she’s older!)
• Rivals to lovers
• Workplace romance
• Single dad
• Big/smol
• Vacation(ish) romance
• Forbidden romance

Chapter 1 look inside

BRIDGET

The most annoying thing about Cole Campion? His silence.

The second-most annoying had to be his coffee. The scent of it curled temptingly into my nostrils and reminded me that I’d skipped both breakfast and lunch because I hadn’t wanted to puke at my presentation. Golden-boy Cole didn’t know nerves like that. There was no tremor to his hand as he lifted the porcelain cup to his lips. I’d never seen him with a to-go cup from one of the big coffee chains. Never ever the coffee from the breakroom. No, Cole Campion was too good for that. I heard he had his own machine in his office that cost more than my first car. His admin special-ordered beans from some eco farm on a mountainside in Brazil. The delicious smell couldn’t begin to justify the prickishness of that damned porcelain cup or the entitlement it represented.

Between his steady grip on that porcelain handle and his confident silence, I wanted to climb the wall of the small seating area outside the boardroom. His unflappable, boulder-like stillness and his steady breathing crawled under my skin. Skin so sweaty my silk blouse was glued to it.

I tugged the collar away from my damp chest and surreptitiously blew downward.

Cole Campion saw—damn him, he noticed everything—and the smirk that tilted his lips irked me too. The sleeve of his dress shirt pulled away from his wrist as he lifted his cup and drank. His watch, the limited-edition one that looked like a piece of minimalist art, glinted, reflecting the recessed lights.

“It’s warm in here, right?” I jumped up, making an embarrassing sucking sound as my thighs unstuck from the squashy leather sofa. “I’ll ask Finley to adjust the thermostat.”

“Warm? No,” he said in that irritatingly calm voice, like he wasn’t waiting for career-making news. He set his cup on the table next to his chair and straightened his suit jacket. “But if you’re overheated…”

“No.” I plopped back onto the sofa, avoiding the spot that was still warm from my body heat. “It’s fine.”

Fine? The situation was anything but fine. I should’ve already moved into the CEO’s spacious office down the hall. I shouldn’t have been sitting on the sofa of doom with a junior colleague. When John retired, the chief operating officer—me—was the obvious choice as his successor. During my fifteen years at Apex, I’d moved from marketing to logistics to operations, and my last three years in the executive suite had readied me for the big job.

Cole, on the other hand, had been a pimply teenager when I started working at Apex. Actually, scratch that. I’d bet the emergency twenty bucks in my wallet that Cole never had pimples. He was too perfect. From his shiny oxfords to his impeccably creased trousers to the sport coat over his pressed shirt—dry and not sweaty like mine—to his meant-to-be-tousled hair, he would never have suffered from a zit on his forehead on prom night.

Not that I had any experience with accidentally rubbing concealer all over my date’s rented jacket.

Jesus, I’d been sweaty that night too.

“How long do you think they’ll take?” I asked, smoothing my skirt over my knees.

“You have somewhere you’d rather be?” He crossed his ankle over his thick thigh like he didn’t have a care in the world. Everything about him was thick, from his muscular neck to his massive shoulders to thighs with a larger circumference than my waist. He was like a sequoia in a bespoke suit.

“Actually, yes.” I straightened, trying to appear taller than I was, like I didn’t need four-inch heels to reach the floor. “I’ve got reports to finish, the budget to wrap up, and a task list that’s a mile long.”

“Ah, you’re a member of the cult of busyness.”

“Am not,” I huffed. “I’m just…very busy.”

“Someone on your team should write those reports for you. If you can’t delegate now, how would you do it if you were chosen?” His eyebrows lifted as he sipped more coffee.

“Oh, I see. The secret to your success is doing nothing at all.”

“I spend my time doing strategic work. A CEO needs time to think about the direction of the company.”

“Strategic work.” I snorted. “In finance.”

“As CFO, I’m responsible for financial reporting, yes. But I also consider the financial future of our company, the best way to use our assets, the right investments that will propel us to the top of the technology solutions industry.”

I wanted to leap over the coffee table that separated us and crumple his tie. Anything to shock that smug smile off his face. But I was a professional. I used my palm sweat to slick down the hair that was escaping my chignon. “I do strategic thinking too.” God, how defensive I sound! I cleared my throat. “But I take a more hands-on approach to my department. Knowing everything about our day-to-day operations helps me make decisions quickly.”

If I hadn’t been watching his face so closely, I’d have missed the tightening of his lips. I had only a second to celebrate that small victory before it was gone. “I’m sure your long tenure at the company helps. However, the board may be looking for fresh ideas from someone less…entrenched.”

Entrenched? “Tenure is a good thing, Cole.” I struggled for too many seconds to unwedge myself from the sticky leather. Finally, I got to my feet and towered over him, hands on my hips. “My years of experience at the company, and in the industry, will help me as CEO. But I’m sure they considered your outsider’s perspective.”

His lips tightened once more, but this time they brought his eyebrows with them. Shit, I hadn’t meant to be mean. Waiting was stressing me out. “I’m—”

“My ‘outsider’s perspective’ is what’s going to take this company to the next level. I bring innovative ideas to solve longstanding problems perpetuated by the old guard.”

Had he just called me old? Forty-three was not old. Not even to some fresh-faced thirty-something man with his damned innovative ideas.

I swallowed every swear word on my lips. Professional. “Sorry, I have to check this.” I held up my phone, which had been buzzing incessantly for the past fifteen minutes, and walked to the window. Briefly, I looked down at busy Mission Street, shaded by our tall building, then I opened my sisters’ group chat. Checking personal texts at work was unprofessional, but it was preferable to throttling my colleague.

We’re all Mom’s favorite

Ciara

Any word yet?

Denise

You’ll tell us as soon as you hear, right?

Trish

Either way, we’re so proud of you

Megan

Leave her alone. U know she doesn’t text at work. She’ll tell us at drinks tonight. And stop changing the group name, T. U know Bridget’s the fave

Denise

I can’t wait that long! I’m living vicariously through Bridget while I keep 8-year-olds from fighting over a heart-shaped rock they found on the playground.

IT DOESN’T EVEN LOOK LIKE A HEART

Ciara

Sounds like Bridget’s colleagues still fight over rocks

My youngest sister, Ciara, had their number. In fact, here I was, playing the game-before-the-game of “Pick Me.” It wasn’t much different from Denise’s second-grade class.

Christ, how I wanted to be picked. Ever since I started my first job after college as a marketing analyst and got a glimpse of the CEO’s spacious office, when I saw my boss’s boss’s boss’s dickish boss defer to her in a meeting, I’d coveted that role. When I joined Apex as a junior marketing manager a few years later, becoming the company’s first female CEO was the target at which I’d aimed my career.

I dropped my phone into my jacket pocket. Megan, my middle sister, was right. I’d tell them all tonight. They’d insisted we all meet up at the bar to celebrate—or commiserate. When we’d scheduled it, I’d been confident it would be a celebration. Now, an hour after Cole walked out of the board meeting after giving his presentation and two hours after I’d finished mine, I wasn’t so sure.

I glanced at the closed door of the boardroom. Through the frosted-glass windows, I saw the board members stand, and I straightened as the door opened.

“Bridget.” Anita walked out, a neutral expression on her face. “A word.”

My heart galloped into my throat. This was it. Nodding, I followed her into the hall.

* * *

Anita tugged me into the nearest conference room, a sad, windowless one with five chairs squeezed around a speakerphone on a round table. She closed the door.

“Sit down, Bridget.” She rubbed the spot between her eyebrows. She looked tired. Her dark bob had definitely gone more salt than pepper lately, and the lines were deep around her mouth. Fleetingly, I wondered how long she planned to continue serving on the board. She’d been my mentor for ten years, since I’d risen to director. I’d been desperate for guidance through the minefield of being a senior leader in an environment where, if I didn’t walk into a room smiling, the men on my team made jokes about it being that time of the month. Now more than ever, I needed her support.

“I…I’d rather stand, if that’s okay.” Energy sizzled under my skin. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting years for. I rubbed my palms together to warm my suddenly icy fingers.

“It wasn’t an easy decision—”

“Jesus Christ,” I gasped. “I didn’t get it?”

“You did.” But her smile was missing. “And there’s a complication.”

“Shit.” I pulled out a chair and dropped into it before my knees gave out.

Anita sat next to me and released the button on her blazer. “Look, the board was split. Half of them wanted you. You’re the obvious choice: experienced, knowledgeable about the company, and pleasant, but not a pushover. They liked your ninety-day plan with its focus on making personal connections through site visits. They liked that you wanted to understand the company and employees better before you change it to support your vision. However—”

“Wait. You said I got it, right?”

“Yes, but…”

Under the table, I clenched my fists.

“Half the board voted for Cole. They liked his outsider’s perspective. His more forceful approach to change. His presentation was very dynamic.”

Of course it was. People who were not me liked Cole. He came across as smart and affable—when he wanted to be—and his energy could be intoxicating. At least, that’s the word I used when I fell under his spell after our first meeting. I’d been in the Cole Campion Fan Club too at first. Until he fucked with my budget proposal. As a newbie, he should’ve simply approved it until he better understood how the company worked. Instead, he slashed through it with his questions and “improvements,” and he’d done it publicly at our executive staff meeting in front of the former CEO, John.

But that was nothing compared to the shakeup in his own department. After less than two weeks, he fired two analysts and their manager and replaced them with outsiders, people he’d worked with at other companies. As far as I could tell, our guys’ only crime was not toeing the Cole Campion line. He was a terrible human being.

And he’d tied me in a vote. How depressing.

“So what happens next? Do we take it to the executive team? Put it up for a vote of the shareholders?” Cole would charm them all. An icy drop of sweat trickled down my temple.

“No, we came to an agreement. We’re offering you both the position for the next ninety days. During that time, you’ll be co-CEOs, and we’ll review your performances at the next board meeting at the end of January.”

“So this is a ninety-day cage match?” I asked.

She chuckled. I’d always appreciated Anita’s sense of humor. “Basically. Though I suppose if the co-CEO situation works out, you could continue to share the role. It works for Netflix.”

The idea of sharing anything with Cole Campion, destroyer of budgets, ruiner of careers, was abhorrent. Even for three months. “I don’t know about this…”

“Look.” She leaned closer, and her dark eyes were kind. “I know it’s not what you wanted, but you’ve been gunning for this position for years, and this is your chance. You bring not only deep company knowledge but also a diverse perspective as a woman.”

Heat flared in my chest. “Wait, I’m a diversity hire? They only want me because I have ovaries?”

“Not only that, but we’ve had more CEOs named John than female executives at this company.” Her lips tightened. “We didn’t want to overlook our first strong female candidate for the top job.”

I liked being a “strong candidate,” though I didn’t love how she qualified it with “female.” I was the best person for the job, regardless of whether I had a penis to swing around. “Okay, say more nice things about me.”

When she smiled, her shoulders lowered an inch or two. “Collaboration is your superpower. You’re going to rock this. You’ll show the board you have the skills you need to lead and excel. At the end of the ninety days, it’ll be a no-brainer to keep you in the corner office. If you choose to accept the role.”

“And Cole’s being offered the same thing? The same choice?”

“He is.”

Maybe his ego would be offended, and he’d turn it down.

I wouldn’t make that mistake. This was my best chance to achieve my dream. “I’ll do it.”

Thank You!

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All my love,

Michelle