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"What?" I slingshot my head in his direction. "You’re doing it to get on my nerves."
"I’m doing it because Knight needs me."
I slap my hand on my hip. "Until a few seconds ago, you were positive the role wasn’t for you."
"That was then."
"So, what changed?"
"I realized Knight was right all along; I’m the man for the job."
"You are." Knight nods.
"I don’t want to work with you," I snap.
"Are you saying you’re not accepting the role?" Knight frowns.
"Umm…" I turn to him. "That’s not what I’m saying." I need this job. I ran out of L.A., breaking the lease on my place, without any savings—which means, my cashflow is almost non-existent at the moment. And the Ice Kings’ salary is more than generous. To be honest, I don’t have an option. But if it means I’m going to be working closely with this asshole, well… Do I have a choice?
"Good, so you’re on board as PR and Marketing Manager, and you"—he turns his gaze on Rick—"are Captain." Knight’s face breaks into a smile. "About fucking time." He claps Rick on the shoulder. "I’ll leave you two to get better acquainted and come up with a plan." With a last nod that encompasses both of us, he heads off.
"Shit." I curl my fingers around the strap of my bag.
"Fuck." Rick rakes his fingers through his hair.
"This is all your fault." I stab a finger at him. "Why couldn’t you have said no to the role?"
To find out what happens next read Gio and Rick’s story HERE.
How many items get crossed off of Penny’s bucket list? To find out get your exclusive free bonus epilogue here and read to find out.
Read Summer & Sinclair Sterling’s story HERE in The Billionaire’s Fake Wife
Read an excerpt from Summer & Sinclair’s story
Summer
"Slap, slap, kiss, kiss."
"Huh?" I stare up at the bartender.
"Aka, there's a thin line between love and hate." He shakes out the crimson liquid into my glass.
"Nah." I snort. "Why would she allow him to control her, and after he insulted her?"
"It’s the chemistry between them." He lowers his head, "You have to admit that when the man is arrogant and the woman resists, it’s a challenge to both of them, to see who blinks first, huh?"
"Why?" I wave my hand in the air, "Because they hate each other?"
"Because," he chuckles, "the girl in school whose braids I pulled and teased mercilessly, is the one who I—"
"Proposed to?" I huff.
His face lights up. "You get it now?"
Yeah. No.A headache begins to pound at my temples. This crash course in pop psychology is not why I came to my favorite bar in Islington, to meet my best friend, who is—I glance at the face of my phone—thirty minutes late.
I inhale the drink, and his eyebrows rise.
