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Bad Attitude

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Jamie Knight

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Hayley: Leave it to me to ruin even a fake relationship!
What happens when a super handsome and rich guy asks me to coffee?
I think I’m the brunt of a prank my new co-workers are playing on me!
Looking at Liam, I find myself turning into a pile of mush.
My mouth and vocal cords refuse to work around him.
Mr. Cocky seems surprised. He’s not used to having his advances refused.
How can I ever make it up to him?
Apparently, by agreeing to pretend to be his fiancée at a wedding.
There’s also a little thing I could give him called my virginity.
I would only want to do that if our relationship was working for real.
But now it’s so real that things are messily broken instead of perfectly fake.

It would take a lot of work to fix it all.
But both of us seem up for a challenge.

Liam: I only need her for one night, but I want her for good.
I don’t just need a wedding date; I also need to pretend I’m getting married.
So when my lawyer sets me up with his new assistant, I’m in.
I’m not the kind of guy who commits, so a one-night fiancée sounds perfect.
And Hayley is perfect, too – perfectly gorgeous, curvy and feisty.
Not only that, but I’m pretty sure she’s a virgin. Just the way I like them.
But when I try to take her out to explain the plan, she freaks.
How can I pretend to be happy with someone so negative?
It seems we bring out the worst in each other.
And yet, I can’t seem to stop wanting her to be my fake fiancée- and more.

Hayley needs an attitude adjustment and I’m just the guy to give it to her.
But is she thinking the same thing about me?

Bad Attitude is a full length standalone novel. Jamie Knight promises to always bring you a happy ever after filled with plenty of heat. And never any cheating or cliffhangers!

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Jamie Knight Books

Chapter One


I had told all the jokes.

God created the Devil so people wouldn’t blame everything on God, and the Devil created lawyers so people wouldn’t blame everything on the Devil.

What do you call 10,000 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean? A good start.

So, it was fair to say that finding myself in need of a lawyer was not the kind of situation I was fond of. And yet, stepping into that office changed my whole life.

The Howell and Howell law firm’s building wasn’t as grandiose as one would expect given the firm’s billion-dollar status. There was no black, glass office buildings for them. Instead, the offices were housed in a five-floor, red brick, classic building with a flat roof. It was an antique they held onto mostly through the efficacy of their pool of property lawyers. There were always land developers trying to knock it down, the building being in a prime location. Yet, despite nearly ten years of trying, none had yet to succeed.

I liked a firm that stuck to their guns. That was what I needed by my side.

I walked towards the late added elevator, leaning on my cane harder than usual — my destroyed hip aching with the change in weather. I usually tried to hide my cane when I had to take meetings for work. Pulling more tricks than FDR to keep anyone from knowing the extent of my wartime injury, aside from my most trusted staff. It just wasn’t good optics for the founder and president of Black Flag Security to have such an outward show of weakness, never mind the fact that it was literally caused by shrapnel.

Ann Howell, one of the partners here, had been really awesome helping me with a dispute over a building I owned, and happily, we were down to the last of the negotiations and just a few papers for me to sign today. I’d gotten Howell and Howell’s name from Carl, one of my buddies from my former army unit, who now worked for me, and I was glad that I did.

The elevator made some disconcerting sounds as it cranked its way from the ground floor up to the fifth, but I ignored that. On the upside, the doors opened at the front desk of Ann’s office. Her brother Jim was up here on the top floor too, the corridor behind the desk splitting off in two directions, Ann to the left and Jim to the right, but it was Ann I was here to see.

“Morning, Mr. Adams!” Ann’s assistant Vicky said with a bright smile. Her flaming, red hair, pulled up into a ponytail, swung behind her shoulder.

Vicky was bubbly. She was also Ann’s sister-in-law, which I figured would make their working relationship either easier or really awkward. Everything I had seen to that point suggested the former.

“Is she here?” I asked, trying to not lean on my cane so much. Even though I had an appointment, I knew full well Ann could get called into court at any time.

“Of course, she is expecting you,” Vicky said, getting up from behind her desk. Following Vicky to the corridor, trying to keep pace, I did my best not to look like a hobbled old man. At forty-five, I wasn’t old at all, but my body had seen better days. Fighting terrorists can do that to a person.

The office she led me to was brightly decorated in yellows and blues. It was a bit feminine for my taste, but it suited Ann, who had the sunniest disposition for a lawyer that I had ever met.

“Mr. Adams,” Ann said with a smile, getting up from behind her desk. Her black hair was cut into a sharp bob that framed her heart-shaped face with high cheekbones. “Ann, we’ve been over this. Please, call me Liam,” I said as we firmly shook hands. “Because Mr. Adams is your dad?” she joked. I shook my head, not cracking a smile. “No, I just prefer Liam,” I clarified. “Ah, I see,” Ann said, then, realizing that humor was not my forte. “Please, take a seat.” Sitting like a good dog in the chair dedicated for clients, I tried to get more comfortable. The pain in my hip made me cranky, and I knew that my attitude could be off-putting sometimes. Ann did not deserve that.

She sat back in her ergonomically designed chair ordered directly from Sweden.

“How are things?” Ann asked, with genuine concern.

“Better now that you’re involved in the whole mess,” I said. “Thanks, I think,” Ann replied, cracking a smile. “I’ll have my assistant bring in the paperwork.”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “At least I’ll have one less thing to worry about before the wedding,” I murmured offhandedly.

“Carl’s wedding?” Ann asked, raising both of her black, arched eyebrows.

“Yeah, next month. You were invited?” I asked curiously. She grinned and opened her eyes wider. “Is it that surprising?” Ann asked. “Oh, no,” I said, back-peddling, not sure how to not offend her. She lifted her brows higher for just a second. “Uh-huh, anyway, I went through basic training with Carl, hence the invite. Career army was not for me, so I used my GI bill to help get through college and into law school.”

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