Page 6 of The Secret Heir Next Door

“I wasn’t bullying,” I protest, but even to my ears, it sounds weak. “I was… asserting my authority.”

“Bro, you’re a great businessman, but sometimes you need to remember that not everything can be controlled like a boardroom. People have feelings. That shop owner, for example. She’s just trying to run her business. Maybe there’s a way to work with her instead of against her.”

I slump into a chair. “I just don’t know how to switch off.

“Try seeing things from her perspective. Maybe her shop has more value than you realize. And for God’s sake, apologize for the suit thing. You can’t start a business relationship by being a jerk.”

“I don’t want a business relationship with her. How would that help me?”

“Don’t be so certain. You can probably learn a lot from her.”

I can’t, but I’ll appease him.

“What would I learn from a small business owner that I don’t already know?”

“Hah. Humility, for a start. Everyone has something they can teach you.”

You’re right.” I grumble. “I guess I need to figure out how to approach this differently.”

“There’s the Logan I know,” Brant says. “You’ve got this. Just remember to breathe and maybe let the CEO take a backseat for a bit.”

“It’s just…”

She was absolutely breathtaking, and I was so taken aback by that. And the electric current that rushed through me when we touched—I didn’t know how to react.

I’ve never felt that way around any woman.

Most of themfall to their knees in front of me and become robots. It’s not because I’m a catch, either. It’s all because they want to use me for my money—or, more specifically—my family name. But she just seems to despise me.

“What is it about this woman that has you in such an uproar?”

“Nothing,” I snap.

“Okay,” he chuckles. “I may have to take a trip to Sweet Treats to see what all the fuss is about.”

“It’s not the woman. It’s everything about that store. It’s childish, and…it sticks out like a sore thumb. If I want people to take us seriously, I can’t be attached to something that looks like a bunch of cartoon characters threw up downstairs.”

“Ever the dramatic visualist,” he jokes. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. I’m looking it up right now, and it has rave reviews.”

“She can still have rave reviews and look professional. She was literally dressed in bibbed overalls when I went into the store today. She looked like…”

“Who are you?” he asks drily. “Seriously, you’re turning into your brother.”

“I am nothing like him.”

“The hell you aren’t. You’re being just as much of a judgmental asshole as he is. Listen, bro, I’m so damn proud ofyou for breaking off from your family and building your tech company from the ground up without their name backing you, but…you’ve forgotten all of your values very quickly.”

I almost growl in frustration. I close my eyes and focus on breathing.

How dare he?

He’s my best friend and knows me better than anyone. He should know that I’m nothing like my family.

The Morelli name is just as famous as the Hilton name when it comes to luxury hotels and destination resorts. My father and uncle built an empire on their own.

I wanted something different, something that was mine. I’ve done that, and pivoted to build an empire in the tech world.

How am I supposed to do that with people who don’t know how to dress for success?

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