Cameron Fletcher and Lucas Hensley are advertising executives who have Sixty Five Hours to pull together the campaign of their careers.
Sixty Five Hours to get along. Sixty Five Hours to not kill each other. Sixty Five Hours to fall in love.
I am… so screwed.
I sat in my office trying not to watch him.
But I did.
His office was across from mine. The glass walls provided a daily distraction, because for the fucking life of me, I did not want to watch him.
But I did.
I didn’t like him. In fact, he pissed me off. He was a gorgeous, fucking arrogant, self-righteous sonnova bitch. The boss’ son. Wealthy, smart, impeccably dressed.
The women in the office, no scratch that, in the entire building, fawned over him. It was embarrassing, really. They’d check their make-up before he walked in, they’d bat their eyelashes, giggle and flirt without shame. And he’d just smile that smug fucking smile – that gorgeous, heart-stopping smile – and left them all aflutter in his wake.
I’d been here for six months and as far as I knew, he’d never dated anyone from the office. He must have those professional-boundaries work-ethics I’d read about. Either that, or Boss-Daddy prohibited inter-office relations.
My personal assistant, Rachel, swore he was a nice guy. She was best friends with Simona, who happened to be his personal assistant. He smiled and chatted with both of them, but if I happened to walk past them, he’d glare at me. I acted like it didn’t bother me, give the girls a grin, and a dip of an imaginary hat I obviously wasn’t fucking wearing. And they loved it.
I wasn’t sure if that’s what pissed him off,…