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It should have been a simple date. A glass of wine, the best bolognese in the city, and one handsome New Year’s Eve stranger.
But Lacey Miller’s life is far from simple.
And going home with your new boss is never recommended. Unless your new employer is Smith Westland.
He’s sinful. Successful. Rich. And he’s determined to keep Lacey forever.
Love at first sight never looked so good.
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“When was the last time you had a big piece of man meat?” Rachel, my best friend, asked as she took a sip of her beer. I really loved Rach, but at this moment she was getting on my last nerve.
“I’m too busy for man meat.” I said, loading the dishwasher. Rachel had been on my case about “getting some” for weeks. Her Christmas present to me was a giant black dildo. Real subtle. The thing was probably the size of my forearm. It was more frightening than sexy.
“You know sex helps relax people, right? Maybe if you got a little orgasm, you wouldn’t be so anxious all the time.”
“I don’t really have time for a relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship? I am talking no strings, good, old-fashioned banging. Just the p in the v baby.”
I laughed at Rachel’s brash words. It was shocking to me that we had managed to be best friends for twenty-one years. We were nothing alike. I was quiet and reserved. Rach was brazen and loud. Always the life of the party. Our whole lives, people would ask how it was possible for us to be so close. The answer was that I was a shy four-year-old without any friends and she was a nice kid who came and sat with me. From that day on, we’d been inseparable.
“Rachel, that’s how you get diseases.”
“It’s called a condom, Lacey.” Rachel walked into my bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I rushed after her. Rachel was rummaging through my closet, pulling out clothes and making a pile on the floor. “Why are you throwing my clothes on the floor? Could you stop? I’m going to have to redo that whole section again… It’s all organized by size!”
“You aren’t a seventy-year-old grandma. You need to spice shit up, girl. I’m just throwing out the trash.” She threw garments over her head. “Oh! Here we go! When did you get this? It’s sexy.” She pulled out a short black dress with spaghetti straps.
“That’s a Halloween costume. I was Cat Woman that year. I’ve been meaning to chuck that,” I said, grabbing the skimpy black dress from her, heading to the trash bin in my room.
“What are you doing?” Rachel asked, grabbing the garment from me. “That’s the only decent piece you have in this hot mess of a closet.” She held up the dress to me, nodding her head in appreciation. “You need to wear this on New Year’s.”
“Wear this sexy dress to sit on the sofa and eat ice cream?”
“Hell no. We’re going online and setting you up on this new dating app I found. You’re a sexy girl…when you try. You should totally try! Get some dick, girl. Get it.” She picked up my phone and started tapping at the screen. “Oh look, he’s cute. Swipe right.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, grabbing my phone from her. Looking at the screen, I was completely horrified. Rachel had signed me up for an app called On Call and had already managed to get three messages. “How fast can you swipe?” I asked, horrified.
“Pretty quick,” she said with a shrug as she examined her nails. “Come on, Lace. It’s one date. Worst case you get a free meal out of it. One hooray before you start your boring job.” She gave me puppy dog eyes.
“One date. One date, and you never bring up this nonsense again,” I said, looking at her sternly.
Wanted: Anaconda Lovers Only.
I chuckled with the double entendre, swiping a hard no on the grainy photo of a woman cuddling with two creatures that looked straight out of a jungle viper pit.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I grunted, sliding my personal phone across the desk. My brother had spent his first year as a Columbia graduate building an app that he assured me would blow my mind. Fast-forward to right now, and after a phantom message popped up on the screen from my little brother with a mysterious link, I’d done the wild thing and clicked it.
I laughed out loud. His new dating app was about to take the world by storm apparently and was populated right now with “thousands of banging chicks at my fingertips.” His words, definitely not mine.
The truth was, my clever little bro had a keen sense for what annoyed me most, and other than the fact that he’d wasted our family’s money on an expensive degree just to code dating apps, the other thorn in my side was…well, me.
At the ripe age of thirty, I had it all. Corner office overlooking the park? Check. Penthouse apartment with rooftop gym and infinity pool? Double check. Hottest advertising executive under thirty according to every gossip rag in the city? Triple check.
Someone to share it all with?
Big fat zero.
I glanced at the clock, mind on another upcoming New Year’s Eve with the guys, playing cards and smoking cigars, or even worse, heading to the hottest nightclub to pick up a woman; I liked talking to my date too much to even think about taking anyone seriously at one of the many trendy bars in my neighborhood. That kind of lifestyle just wasn’t for me.