Not only does he need you, but we need you.” He bit his bottom lip and I assumed he was getting emotional then because he called Mary to bring up the rings.
We said our vows under the perfect summer sun, as though we were the only two people in the room, promising to love each other, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. There was comfort in taking the original vows, vows said by so many before us and that will be said by so many after us.
And when Brad pronounced us as man and wife and Charles’s lips connected with mine, I thanked the heavens above and fate and all the forces that may be that we both—finally after experiencing heartache—got our very own happily ever after—with each other.
Did you love this story? Do you want to see what kind of crazy antics Brad is up to? Keep reading in BOSS I LOVE TO HATE to see if Brad gets his own happily ever after?
Here is a sample of Mia Kayla’s bestselling novel, BOSS I LOVE TO HATE.
BOSS I LOVE TO HATE
SONIA
“Her boobs can’t possibly be real.”
My best friend, Ava, always tried to make me feel better. Too bad I knew she was lying. Lying through her teeth.
With my forefinger, I pushed my glasses farther up my nose and leaned closer to the computer screen, so close that I nearly went cross-eyed. The scent of coffee hit me directly in the nostrils. The sound of paper spat out of the printer. The chatter of my coworkers rang loudly behind me. But I ignored it all and concentrated on my computer screen—her—my replacement. Jeff’s replacement for me.
“She’s not that pretty,” Ava continued.
I scrolled through my ex-boyfriend’s Facebook feed again, fixated on their endless pictures together, laughing, hugging, smiling, eating. And her … I couldn’t get over her. The replacement was beautiful, her body built like those mannequins at the store, tall and perfectly proportional. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. High cheekbones contoured like those stupid tutorials Ava always watched on YouTube.
“I hate her.” Venom dripped from my tone. Not only because she was beautiful, but also because she had him.
Already tired of looking at my computer screen, I leaned back against my chair and straightened my pens, separated by color in their cup-like containers.
“I’m telling you, she’s not that …” She coughed. “But do you think her boobs are real?”
“They can’t be.” My eyes level with the screen. “Who has a perfect face, body, and boobs, too?”
Why must life be so unfair?
“Sonia!”
I jerked back at the sound of my boss’s voice and knocked over my coffee in the process, causing me to jump back and drop the phone. “Damn it!”
Liquid spilled everywhere—on the desk, on my keyboard, on my skirt.
Fisting a handful of Kleenex from my tissue box, I cleaned up my desk. The light-brown liquid soaked the tissues. I grabbed more, repeated the process, patted my damp skirt down, and glared at his office door.
I had ordered his breakfast, picked up his dry cleaning, and gone over his schedule for today. What the hell did he want now? Couldn’t I get some peace for five freaking minutes?
I reached for the phone dangling off my desk and placed it to my ear. “Gotta go, Ava. The crass hole is beckoning.”
She sighed overly loud. “Tall, dark, and oh-so fine. Give my love to your BILF.”
Boss I’d Like to—yeah, right.
How about Boss I’d Like to Kill?
“I’ll tell the BILK you said hello. Bye.” I reached for my iPad, adjusted my glasses, and skittered to his office, my two-inch turquoise Mary Janes clicking against the black marble floor. After I pulled down my plaid knee-length skirt, I entered his fishbowl office.
Floor-to-ceiling windows outlined every single wall. His eyes focused on the screen in front of him, his backdrop was worthy of a picture frame—the Chicago skyline.
Brad Sebastian Brisken had the face of a Hollywood heartthrob, the jawline of a GQ model, and the body of someone who lived at the gym all the time. His suit was always perfectly pressed, and the lines in his sleek slacks always hugged his firm thighs. There was never a dark strand of hair out of place. He looked like a Greek god—tall, fit, and fine.
“Took you long enough.”
“Sorry, was on the phone with my mom.” Jerkface. I didn’t sound sorry.
And this was how our two-year working relationship had been going. Him