I’m supposed to discuss business affairs and attend a party at an associate’s beach vacation home over the weekend.
For the life of me, I can’t pretend I’m even remotely looking forward to it.
This is the part of the business I absolutely abhor—socializing and pretending we want to discuss mundane things when we can just get down to money talk because, at the end of the day, it’s why we’re here, right? But……It is what it is. I just have to suffer three days of fake smiling and fake interest in what the other is saying.
What I’m not prepared for when...
I’m supposed to discuss business affairs and attend a party at an associate’s beach vacation home over the weekend.
For the life of me, I can’t pretend I’m even remotely looking forward to it.
This is the part of the business I absolutely abhor—socializing and pretending we want to discuss mundane things when we can just get down to money talk because, at the end of the day, it’s why we’re here, right? But……It is what it is. I just have to suffer three days of fake smiling and fake interest in what the other is saying.
What I’m not prepared for when I arrive, however, is meeting the man’s daughter.
Kara.
A twenty-something girl who’s still in university. With a face men would fight for. A body that begs to be explored. A smile that reaches parts of me I’d forgotten, bringing warmth to the coldest corners of my soul.
It’s not right for so many reasons.
These thoughts drive me crazy.
1. I should be discussing business with her father, not acting like a hormonal teenager.
2. I am more than a decade older than her.
3. She is way too innocent for me.
All these things fly out the window the moment she shows me an ounce of attraction.
Because who the hell am I to resist when she’s serving herself on a silver platter before me?
It’s a tricky situation to navigate, but I’ve never been surer of one thing in my life…
I will not leave this house until she’s mine—heart, mind, body, and soul.
Good luck to anyone who tries to come between us … even if that person is her own father.
