Seven rules. One Boss who holds them more sacred than the Bible. And me, the one who throws them all to the wind in record time.
I just wanted a job. A normal, paid job so I wouldn't have to sleep in my old Honda Civic anymore. Instead, I end up with only one shoe and a manhole cover under my arm (long story) at Jaxon Knight's place. Billionaire. Control freak. And the man who can knock me off balance with a single look.
Technically, I'm just his project assistant.
But then it happens. Exactly at midnight. In my car. I was in a foul mood. Yoga didn't work out because I'm not a fitness person, so... well. I'm thinking about him. Out loud. Very loud. And I accidentally call him.
He listens. For a full 17 minutes. The whole damn time.
And when I notice my mistake and hang up, a new appointment appears on my calendar.
"12:00 PM, executive floor. Duration: 17 minutes."
Jaxon Knight presents me with a contract containing seven rules that he treats as if they were carved in stone and signed by God Himself.
Seven rules I have to agree to before he touches me even once.
Rule number one: Separate work and pleasure. Always.
Rule number two: No exceptions!
Rule number three: In the office, you call me Mister Knight. When we're alone, Sir.
And even before I've read through all the rules, I'm certain I'll break every single one of them. Not because I'm brave—though I really do like it when Jaxon glares at me so furiously—but because I can't stand pretending anymore that I'm not completely crazy about the man who wants to control me, while simultaneously making it possible for me to finally breathe freely.
I just wanted a job. A normal, paid job so I wouldn't have to sleep in my old Honda Civic anymore. Instead, I end up with only one shoe and a manhole cover under my arm (long story) at Jaxon Knight's place. Billionaire. Control freak. And the man who can knock me off balance with a single look.
Technically, I'm just his project assistant.
But then it happens. Exactly at midnight. In my car. I was in a foul mood. Yoga didn't work out because I'm not a fitness person, so... well. I'm thinking about him. Out loud. Very loud. And I accidentally call him.
He listens. For a full 17 minutes. The whole damn time.
And when I notice my mistake and hang up, a new appointment appears on my calendar.
"12:00 PM, executive floor. Duration: 17 minutes."
Jaxon Knight presents me with a contract containing seven rules that he treats as if they were carved in stone and signed by God Himself.
Seven rules I have to agree to before he touches me even once.
Rule number one: Separate work and pleasure. Always.
Rule number two: No exceptions!
Rule number three: In the office, you call me Mister Knight. When we're alone, Sir.
And even before I've read through all the rules, I'm certain I'll break every single one of them. Not because I'm brave—though I really do like it when Jaxon glares at me so furiously—but because I can't stand pretending anymore that I'm not completely crazy about the man who wants to control me, while simultaneously making it possible for me to finally breathe freely.
Used availability for Lana Stone's The 7 Rules of my Boss