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“Mr. Harwood,” the lawyer continued, “VictorHarwood, I’m sure you understand—is slated to retire in three months. The board requires the new CEO to be responsible and trustworthy. If Nick doesn’t clean up his act, he’s going to lose his chance at the company. It doesn’t matter that he’s Mr. Harwood’s son. Victor and the board will not tolerate his frivolous lifestyle.”

The lifestyle in question? Excessive drinking, trashed hotel rooms, street racing, party-crashing … the works.

The good news is, reforming a chronic partier in the eyes of the public is simple. We’ve dealt with sports stars having nuclear divorces, high-powered CEOs bullying the press, beloved authors with tickling fetishes … I’m sure we can handle a moneyed-up playboy.

The bad news is, Nick doesn’t want to co-operate.

“Victor has fired no less than six of our internal PR managers because they failed to convince Nick to turn his reputation around,” the lawyer told us. “You’re our last hope. If Nick agrees to work with you, we’re willing to compensate you to the tune of ten million dollars.”

Lena, Mason, and I stared at each other across the table.Ten million.The biggest deal our little firm has ever seen.

“That—ahem—that sounds fair,” Lena said, dollar signs shining in her eyes. Sitting next to her, Mason beamed at the prospect of working with the hottest bachelor in the city.

And me … I was seeing my father’s debts finally paid. The ticket to freedom I’ve been hunting for a year.

“Consider it done,” Lena had said. “Nick might have walked all over your other managers, but he hasn’t met our Sienna yet. She’s got the sharpest teeth in the business.”

Lena and Mason gave me encouraging nods.

No pressure, right?

Now, I glance at myself in the mirror behind Café de Mario’s bar. I’m in my fiercest gray power suit, winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut a man. I listened to my Bad Bitch playlist on the way here, and my heels are tall enough to step over anyone who gets in my way.

I look killer. Ifeelkiller, and I know I can get the billionaire heir to turn things around. I just need him to stay long enough to order a drink and listen to my spiel.

Because Idohave the sharpest teeth in the business.

And I know something about him no one else does.

Chapter 2

Sienna

Another half hour at Café de Mario bleeds away. There’s a hole forming in my cheek from how hard I’m chewing it.

No signs of Nick’s arrival. My inbox is still at zero. Worst of all, every time the door opens, my head flies up like I’m a dog hearing the dinner bell.

Embarrassing.

Just when I’m about to text the group chat that I’m throwing in the towel and coming back to Blackstone Center, the restaurant door swings open, and a tall figure appears. He saunters into the room and somehow manages to shrink the entire space.

I exhale in relief—finally—and pocket my phone.

Nick Harwood pushes his hand through his dark, bronzy hair and speaks in a deep rumble to the host, who lets out a little shriek, bouncing on the balls of her toes. While he’s distracted, I give him a practiced up-and-down, deducing what kind of client he’ll be.

My initial assessment says: masculine.

Intelligent.

Charming.

Trouble.

There’s something about the way he stands, sizes up the room, and brushes off his immaculate, black suit that tells me this is a man who’s gotten used to having all eyes on him. Like he thinks he walks this Earth to show others what it means to live.

Nothing I can’t handle.

“Mr. Harwood,” I say, offering my hand as he walks up to the bar. “It’s good to see you finally decided to join me.”