Snowbound in Bed: Seven Nights With my Rival

7th December, 2026

Blair

“Sorry Sir, but with all due respect…I'm supposed to do what?!” 

I stared at the man in front of me, utterly dumbfounded.

It was already December. Christmas was approaching and everything was, by all means, wonderful. I was already eager enough for the coming holiday and the chance to travel and spend time with my family. More importantly, the month was made even better given that an opportunity of a lifetime had fallen onto my lap I could achieve before then.

Which was why now, after weeks of planning, I couldn't for the life of me believe what he was saying. 

Gideon Palmer, the President of Huntington Cooperation and my boss, sighed on the desk across from me.

“It’s exactly as I said Miss Valentine.” He said plainly “You will be partnering with Mr Olsen for this business proposal.”

It was the second time he’d said it but it still slammed into me hard. I couldn’t believe it. 

As the Design Director of Huntington Corporation, I'd worked my way up for the past three years in the Design Industry. From internship to branching out as one of the formative members of Huntington, I'd devoted myself to achieve many projects, helping to build Huntington Corporation into the Mid tier Interior Design Firm it was.

But that was all shadowed in the face of the opportunity present, because this was Vincent freaking Harlow.

Vincent Harlow, a self-made Billionaire who'd thrived for the past decade had rocked the entire design industry when he'd suddenly announced an open call for proposals for interior design firms to get the chance to design his new summer home and was personally overseeing each one. Even better was the fact that Huntington was put on the shortlist and Gideon had proposed that I personally handled the proposal on behalf of the firm. 

A high end client like that was no joke. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. No matter how slim the chance, success or even a commendation from him would skyrocket Huntington’s reputation and mine by extension. It would also mean getting a huge bonus. 

I was eager to achieve that goal. It was why I’d worked so hard for the past few weeks. The meeting with Vincent Harlow was already arranged and was happening on the 11th, four days from now. I’d already prepared everything from the research to the blueprints. All our plans were already in place.

But now, a wrench was thrown in  those plans. I was supposed to partner with Zayn Olsen of all people?

Shaking my head, I tried to grasp at my sanity. Because this couldn't be happening.

“No, no no.” I muttered. “This is impossible. You can't do this.” 

“Unfortunately Miss Valentine, I can.” Gideon said, dead serious. 

My hands tightened into fists. I turned away and covered my face with a hand as I began pacing through his office. 

No. Hell no. 

“Its not possible. “ I spun around to face him. “I've already worked hard on the project. We can't afford to change our plans now. We're already four days in.  There's so little time. Do you expect me to suddenly share these benefits and work with… with that - ” 

A thousand words came to mind, none of them decent or professional. In the end I could only gesture silently so he'd get my point. 

And get he did. Gideon, normally unflappable, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“I believe that you two can reach a consensus.” He said. “You both are the top designers and the two sole Design Directors of this firm. Together, you two can come up with something.”

I pursed my lips at those words, bitter frustration twinging. No matter how begrudgingly, I could admit that nothing he said was false. We were both at the top of our game and were exceptional. But he was actively ignoring one little detail.

We weren’t just sharing the same position. We were rivals.

There was a reason why for the past year we’d headed our teams separately. For the past year since his arrival, it was a silent war. We competed over every project, seizing every chance and keeping scores. Every confrontation was mental warfare.

And if there was anything I was sure of it was this.

 If Zayn was involved in this, he would ruin everything.

“You know better than anyone how he is,” I said, “If he gets into this, Zayn wouldn't ‘work with’ me. He'd  undermine me. He’d ruin everything I planned for this project and act high and mighty about it. I can't afford that—”

“I’m not giving you a choice. This is my final decision, Miss Valentine.”

I reared back at his tone. It was one I recognized when he was dealing with others, a firm command that brooked no argument. Even though he rarely used it on me, he was doing so now. 

A lump formed in my throat as I stared at him, sourness rising in my chest.

The tension was suffocating. He shut his eyes and sighed before gesturing towards the chair across from him.

“Blair, sit down,” he said. 

“Sir, I—”

“Sit,” he insisted, cutting off my refusal and fixing me with a firm look.“You need to relax and regain your composure.”

I pressed my lips together, matching his stare but he didn't waver. After a few seconds I caved, resignedly dragging my feet to sit down, crossing my arms and looking away.

Shame twinged. Was it childish? Yes. But then again I felt like a child who'd just been reprimanded so it was only fair.  

Several seconds later he moved at the corner of my eye before raising something.

“Water?” He asked. I turned to find that he was offering a bottle. My eyes narrowed.

“I’m not thirsty,” I ground out, glaring at him. 

“You sure? It would help.” he said, an easy smile on his face that made my gut clench. 

“I know what you’re doing,” I snapped. 

“Oh?” He blinked, raising his eyebrows. “What am I doing then?”

“You’re trying to pacify me like I’m a damn child.” I retorted, glaring harder. Despite his ‘oblivious’ look there was an unmistakable amused glint in his eyes.

“Is it working then?” he asked, amusement now in full blast. My jaw clenched and I  stubbornly remained silent.

Seconds passed in our standoff. Gideon didn't lower the hand holding the bottled water, still waiting.

In the end, I snatched the bottle from his grasp, twisting off the cap harshly to take a swig. He chuckled but I glared at him mid-drink. When I was done I recapped it, pushing it back onto the table before folding my arms again.

“Better now?” He asked. I refused to answer, still glaring. Inside though, annoyance brimmed in me.

Because damn it, he was freaking right. It helped a little.

Thankfully he didn't push. Instead his gaze softened.

“I know how you feel about this,” He began gently, “And I know how much this opportunity means to you too. I keep an eye on you Blair, from the early arrivals to work to all the all-nighters and weekends you've spent here. You've been working on this proposal singlehandedly while managing other projects without anyone else knowing a thing, putting so much pressure on yourself without batting an eye. And it's been fruitful. The results you've shown me are exceptional.”

The lump in my throat ached. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my eyes from stinging.

It wasn't just the late nights. My entire life for the past few weeks had been consumed by this proposal and its potential. Weeks of research, of impromptu travels on the weekend from my own pocket looking through materials, the climate and meeting experts for research just to come to work the day after like normal. Nights of forgetting to eat and even falling asleep in my apartment midway through modelling and researching floor plans until I saw them in my sleep.

None of it was easy. I struggled. I'd had a few breakdowns and I'd been frustrated beyond reason. I enjoyed the challenge, but I could admit that.

To have him acknowledge my difficulties, made me validated. 

Which made this sudden change so gutting.

“Then why?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “Since you know how hard I’ve worked, why are you still doing this?”

He sighed for what was probably the 10th time since I entered his office.

“Because, no matter how slim the chances, this is  a crucial proposal. Vincent Harlow is the most important potential client we've had since this firm started. It's not everyday one gets the chance to meet and propose an idea for a billionaire, especially one as reclusive as him. That's why it's best to not take any risks.” He folded his hands on the table, leaning towards me. “I can proudly say from my years of experience in this industry you ARE exceptional. You've achieved in three years what many haven't. But so does Zayn in terms of experience and takes.”

“So you think that I'm not good enough to work on it alone?” I asked, trying to hold back the bitterness from my tone. 

“No. Not at all.” He shook his head. “That isn't the case Blair. Your ideas and the proposal are good. But you have to admit that something feels missing. I feel it and I know you've been trying to secretly resolve it too, haven't you?”

 I jerked up instantly. How did he…

“Exactly.” He said, looking at me knowingly. “Two heads are better than one and you two are the best Huntington has. What happens when both your expertise is combined? I believe that if you and Zayn truly meet minds and work together, you both could do something great.”

 Something great? As if.

The world would have to crash and burn before I worked with him. Even if we were somehow trapped together with no hope of escape and I was desperate,  I wouldn't consider it. Even if I did, it was a slim tiny possibility.

A chance that would never happen because that situation wasn't possible. Obviously.

Still, I bit my tongue. Gideon was already constantly overwhelmed and I'd already made enough of a fuss. I didn't want to upset him further.

The sunlight that filtered into the office illuminated several strands of silver of Gideon’s coiffed hair marking his age. Looking at him, my heart ached.

For the past three years I worked with him as a newly minted graduate straight out of internship. Back then, he was a mentor and in a strange sense, had raised me as a pseudo father figure. 

He was full of integrity, firm yet creative and kind. When he left our previous firm and offered me a chance to join Huntington as a small startup back then, I'd agreed without hesitation. 

 I was lucky to have met him when I did. As a Boss and mentor, he was one in a million.

“You two can't remain hostile forever.” He said gently, “Take it from this old man. Sometimes, taking a chance changes everything. Talk to him. Give him a chance and give yourself one too, if not for me, then at least for this proposal. For Huntington. I trust that you can do that, can't you?”

My heart clenched. The look in his eyes was pleading in a way I couldn't refuse.

Closing my eyes, I sighed in resignation. There was no way to change his mind when he was put up to something. 

Meeting his expectant gaze, I rolled my eyes and stood up, grabbing the bottle of water from the desk.

“I make no promises.” I grumbled reluctantly, but that was enough for him to relax.

“That's all I need to hear.” He smiled at me before looking at his clock, "I've kept you for long enough. Sorry about that.”

“No problems. I know it comes with age” I joked and this time he was the one to glare, even as he kept smiling. After stretching lightly, I straightened my posture and nodded, schooling my face into the formal expression that was undoubtedly professional. 

“Thank you for the guidance Mr Palmer” I said, returning to our professional tone. “In that case I'll leave you to your day.” 

“Of course, Miss Valentine.” He nodded. “You're dismissed. And good luck.”