|The Rule Book|
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC - Embrace
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publication Date: May 9, 2016
|Description from Publisher: Starr Media Second-Assistant Survival Guide
1. Don't call your hot boss the antichrist to his face.
2. Don't stare at hot boss's, um, package or his full sleeve of tattoos. (No. Really. Stop!)
3. Don't get on the malicious first assistant's bad side.
4. Don't forget to memorize the 300-page employee manual.
5. If you value your cashmere, steer clear of boss’s dog.
6. Boss’s dimples are lust-inducing. Do. Not. Give. In.
7. “The elevator ate your clothes” is not a valid excuse for showing up to important meetings half dressed.
8. Don't break seven of the rules within the first week of employment if you, ya know, are in dire need of money to support your sick mom.
9. Whatever you do, don’t fall for the boss. See rule eight about sick mom.
10. Never forget the rules.
Check out my review here.
“We meet again,” I said, and cringed at how stupid I kept sounding in front of him. Seriously, a Master’s degree, and that was the best I could come up with. Cheesy chitchat usually only made an appearance with red wine and too many shots of tequila. The guy had hired me to help with the basics, and this wasn’t exactly showcasing my competence.
“Yep. Just out for a quick walk.” He nodded and picked at an invisible piece of lint on his sleeve.
Did he pass by me in the park on his walk? Oh God, had he seen me chewing? My mom’s chiding about my eating habits suddenly didn’t seem so stupid.
I chanced a quick glance his direction. Since that awful encounter in the break room the other week, his hair had been neatly trimmed into a stylish cut that accentuated his face. Brogan was all strong angles and broad shoulders. Normally my reaction to forced proximity with a hot guy in an elevator was that of a) glee b) praying I didn’t have horrible coffee breath, and c) the obvious hope of said hot guy jamming the big red stop button and proceeding to give a mind-blowing elevator romp.
A completely irrational, unfair thought process since he was really the only person I was not allowed to go for. Besides the thirty other men that worked for Starr Media. As the old adage went, the person you embarrass yourself in front of the worst is the person you want the most. And Mr. (anti)Antichrist was looking particularly appealing today.
He shifted and took his hands out of his pockets as I stared straight ahead, trying not to make eye contact in the mirrored doors. Oh, this was going to be a very long ride in silence.
I stared at the little red numbers climbing, each one taking its time. Should I say something else? It’d be rude not to, but then again, I was the one that made an ass out of myself and insulted him. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut like Jackson instructed.
“Nice day, huh?” Okay, so I failed at taking my own advice. Awkward silence gave me hives, and I always felt the need to fill it.
He clasped his hands in front of him and looked down at me. “Yep. Enjoy it while it lasts—supposed to be a rough winter.”
“I don’t mind rough,” popped out of my mouth even as Noooooo don’t you dare say that! tried to lasso my tongue.
If I wasn’t carrying coffee, I’d be pulling the hood of my cardigan over my head and pretending I’d melted into the elevator.
The dimples made an appearance, and I could tell he was using every bit of restraint not to laugh. “Is that so?”
“That was way too far down the ‘that’s what she said’ rabbit hole to even begin to redeem myself. Can we let that slide?”
|Jennifer Blackwood is an English teacher and contemporary romance author. She lives in Oregon with her husband, son, and poorly behaved black lab puppy. When not chasing after her toddler, you can find her binging on episodes of Gilmore Girls and Supernatural, and locking herself in her office to write.|
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