Page 3 of The Wedding Hoax

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Two hours later, Taylor and I stood in the copy room in the offices of LA Now.

“Do you want me to show you how to work the copier again?” Taylor asked, playfully patting its side. “Don’t be ashamed if it takes you a few tries to get it. It practically took me a month.”

“How are you so bad with technology? Doesn’t your family own a computer shop?”

“Rude. You’re being so rude right now.” Taylor scoffed playfully. “Seriously, though. Do you need anything else? This is the last thing to cover on your orientation.”

I thought about the question for a minute. She’d been assigned to show me around the office and introduce me to the other writers and editors on staff.

Unfortunately, she’d also been responsible for helping me set up my laptop and email. She was clearly out of her league there, and I’d told her I could handle it on my own.

Or maybe I’d just leave a desperate SOS message on an IT guy’s voicemail.

“I think I’ve got it.” I smiled back at her. “But…”

“But?”

“But maybe you could show me to Harry’s office? So I can apologize before he comes out here and fires me—”

“If you interrupt Harry while he’s in a meeting, he’ll definitely fire you.” Taylor leaned against the copier. “Like I said, just pretend it never happened.”

“Right.”

I couldn’t admit to Taylor the real reason why I wanted to be introduced to Harry.

A part of me just wanted to see him, to make sure my eyes hadn’t been lying to me the first time.

Sure, he was an asshole, and sure, he was my boss, but that man was a work of art.

Or maybe I was just a little thirsty for male attention, especially since I hadn’t been with anyone since my disaster of an ex—

“Are you still standing here?” Taylor interrupted my thoughts, her tone lined with disbelief. “Go! Get to work!”

“Sir, yes, sir.” I saluted with a grin before I headed to my office.

I tried to push all thoughts of Harry away. But his perfect, annoying face keep popping up in my mind.

Working for him wasn’t going to be easy.

2

HARRY

No one talked to me like that.

The woman at the coffee shop had completely thrown me off in the very best way, my whole morning gone out the window. I couldn’t get her out of my head.

Not her deep hazel eyes, and not her auburn hair that cascaded down her shoulders.

Fuck.

I wanted to talk to her again. I wanted to brush my fingers across her cheek, run my hands through her hair, push her up against the counter and—

“Sir? Your father’s here to see you.” Paul, my executive assistant, was suddenly standing in front of my desk. “Do you want me to tell him you’re busy?”

“No. Send him in.” If I sent Dad away, he’d just pester me until I talked to him. And I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

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