Men like Rafe McCarthy never change.
Privileged playboys who party hard and date even harder--if you can call that revolving door of actresses and models "dating." It's my job to wake him up, sober him up, and send him into his meetings at the family pharmaceutical corporation more or less on time.
Meanwhile, I'm spending every cent and spare second taking care of my family. It's probably because I'm so distracted that I accidentally swap our phones--and get notified of an appointment I most definitely did not make for him. Turns out Rafe has been keeping a few secrets beneath that artfully disheveled suit... like a heart of gold.
Just when I thought he couldn't get any hotter.
Obviously I can't be held responsible for my actions after that. Not for making out with him in my kitchen. Or for insisting he include me in his secret mission. Or for making out with him again. And all that led to. Or for...
Okay, I definitely know better than to fall for my boss. Oops.
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