Chief

When I first met Chase Parker, I didn’t make the best impression. I was hiding in the bathroom of a restaurant, leaving a message for my friend to rescue me from a terrible date. He overheard and told me I was a bitch and then proceeded to give me a lecture on how to be a proper date. I told him to mind his own business—and then I went back to my table. When he walked past my table, he smirked, and I watched his arrogant, sexy arse walk away. I couldn’t help but sneak hidden glances at him. And he wasn’t oblivious to it, catching me more than once. When the handsome stranger and his equally beautiful date suddenly appeared at our table, I thought he was going to rat me out. But instead, he pretended we knew each other and joined us—telling embarrassing, fake stories about our made-up childhood. So that boring date suddenly became awkwardly fun. When we said goodbye that night, I thought I’d never see him again. What were the chances I’d run into him again in a city with eight million people? What were the chances that a month later he’d be my new boss?