Page 1 of How to Marry the Boss

Chapter One

Six years earlier

Dallas, Texas

Mia

The number of outfits I’m trying on has become the equivalent to most clients in those wedding-dress reality shows. I’m struggling to decide which dress is the right one.

Today is my eighteenth birthday. Things now have to change for the better, right? From the time I was fifteen, I couldn’t stand this boundary between him and Jake Hall.

And now that it’s no longer in my way, I feel like I can do anything—except choose a damn dress for my birthday celebration.

“Dammit.” I groan, laying my body across my bed in defeat. “I’m not going. I have nothing to wear.”

My bestie, Joselyn Andrews, stares at me crisscrossed on my bed. “It’s your birthday party. You can’t not show up.”

I get her point, but at the same time she’s forgetting how my parents operate.

I turn my gaze from the ceiling to her tanned face. “Let’s be honest; this isn’t my party anyway.”

It’s just another excuse for my parents to host another soiree and show how amazing they are to their snobby friends. That’s what they do. They did the same thing at all my other birthdays, as well as my older brothers’, Jonathan and Nathan. From the moment guests arrive to when they leave, the event is about them. Most of the people on the guest list I’ve never met in my life, nor do I care to meet them.

My best friend, who I’ve known since second grade, is well aware of this. “You’re not wrong about that. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make it your own. Look, you don’t have to dress up if you don’t want to. We can chill in our comfies, sneak some snacks from the kitchen, and watch your favorite movies.”

Normally I’d agree to this, but my parents would notice. “You know I can’t do that. They’d say I’m making the family look bad.” I stand up from the bed again, and look at her through the reflection in the full-length mirror. “Maybe later though.”

“I still stand by my original statement.” Jocelyn moves on, scanning me up and down. “That dress looks nice on you and makes your eyes pop.”

I scan a critical eye at the spaghetti-strapped, teal ombre dress that stops just below my knees. “Sure, but does it scream, ‘I’m an adult’?”

Jocelyn rolls her eyes. “Just because the dress doesn’t have cleavage or a slit doesn’t make you look any less like an adult. Dress it up with heels and jewelry, and see how you feel.

I get where she’s coming from, but everything I own doesn’t give me the wow factor I need for him to notice me.

Jake Hall had ruined all other guys for me from the moment I met him. I was nine. And all he had to do was breathe and smilein my direction. I didn’t even see the tidal wave of new emotions coming. Something I’d never felt before in my young life at the time. Who would? Most girls my age don’t think about anything other than dolls and playing dress-up, much less men that are almost a decade their senior.

As Jonathan’s friendship with Jake grew stronger, so did my crush. But the older I became, the more I resented the fear that Jake only saw me as the kid sister.

Even when I became a freshman in high school, and all my friends started dating boys around our age, no one ever seemed to measure up to Jake. Sure, I’d dated a guy or two to keep up appearances and to feed the occasional curiosity, but even then, no one could compare.

Today is the day where I no longer have to hold my feelings for him tight against my chest. I can finally confess to him how much I like him. But not in a dress that hides everything I want to show.

“I need to go sexier.”

Jocelyn cocks her head to the side. “How sexy are we talking?”

“I’m thinking something sexy enough to grab a guy’s attention, but not too sexy to make my brothers want to bleach out their eyeballs. Something classy overall.”

Silence falls between us as we think. Then a thought pops into my head. A vintage dress of my mom’s that I’d forgotten about forever ago.

I turn to my bestie. “Follow me.”

I rush out of my room and down the dark wooden stairs. If there was any good time to raid my mother’s closet, this is it. Especially when she’s decided to “taste test” all the booze at the open bar. And God only knows where my dad went off to, and with whom.

When Jocelyn and I rush into my parents’ bedroom, we stop at the threshold of their “his and hers” closet. Dad’s side has a masculine interior with dark mahogany wood all around, while Mom’s closet gives an elegance and classy aesthetic with its off-white wooden structure.

Walking into her closet is like walking into a high-end boutique. Everything from her jewelry to her shoes is from every different kind of high-fashion designer. A large island with a granite countertop sits in the middle of it all. My mother’s shoe collection, which is presented on shelves that go as tall as the ceiling, is large enough to provide for an army. Assuming all they wear are YSL stilettos and Chanel slippers.

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