Billionaires of Manhattan

OMG, the cute little dog I adopted turns out to be a billionaire Maltese! That's right, my tiny dog just inherited a huge corporation!...and the jerky CEO? Not amused. I'm Vicky, the dog whisperer. (Not really, but that's what my elderly neighbor says whenever I walk her dog, Smuckers.) When she dies, she surprises everybody by leaving a corporation worth billions to Smuckers...and she leaves Smuckers to me. Suddenly I go from running my Etsy store to sitting in an elegant Wall Street boardroom with Smuckers in my lap. And, my neighbor's son, Henry Locke, aka New York's most eligible bachelor, glaring across the table at me. Rumor has it Henry's a business genius who's as talented in the bedroom as he is in the boardroom. Sure, he's gorgeous. Sex-in-a-seven-thousand dollar suit. But...He's arrogant and infuriating. He refuses to listen to me when I insist I didn't con his mother. He thinks he can bully me, buy me off, control me, even seduce me. Henry may have the women of Manhattan eating out of the palm of his hand, but I'm so over entitled rich guys who think they own the world. No way will his wicked smile be charming ME out of my panties. His wicked...devastating...impossible-to-resist smile. Oh well, who needs panties anyway?

When my manager assigns me the task of finding a new wakeup call service for our CEO, I think, how hard can this be? Answer: practically impossible. It turns out that no wake-up call company in the world will take him on as a client. They've all had enough of his surly personality. So in an effort not to lose my job, I secretly start making the calls myself, every day at 4:30 am sharp. OMG yes you read that right-four freaking thirty in the morning. Confession: I'm not the nicest wake-up-call girl at that hour. Hello! Who wakes up before the roosters are even crowing? Luckily he doesn't seem to mind my get-your-ass-out-of-bed attitude. Day by day we're becoming closer, and the calls start turning hot, like pay-by-the-minute hot and oh-so-wild. Snuggled under the covers with the moonlight streaming in the windows, we divulge our secrets to each other, but the one thing that he can never find out is that the sexy vixen who wakes him up every morning is just the lowly assistant who wears frumpy dresses. I can only imagine his disappointment. Now he wants to take me out on a date and he's scouring Manhattan to find me. He's an overachieving billionaire bent on a mission. How much longer can I keep up this charade?

I'm Max Hilton-yes, that Max Hilton. Billionaire playboy. Style icon. Author of the dating book men swap like contraband.King of playing it cool.And then my high school nemesis walks back into my life.Mia Corelli, who I absolutely did not expect to see again. Certainly not delivering my lunch.She freezes when she sees me. I can practically hear the silent screaming.\She's older. Sharper. Delivering my sandwich like she'd rather fling it at my head.She thinks I engineered it. I didn't.And sure, I could ask for a different delivery person…but where's the fun in that? Because here's the thing about Mia-she's the one I never got over.Now every afternoon turns into a new round of our old rivalry-sharper, funnier, and way more dangerous than when we were seventeen.And suddenly, winning her over feels like the only game worth playing Even if it means breaking every rule I wrote.

I'm no Prince Charming, and the last thing I want is a Cinderella. My instructions were simple: scour the city for a fake fiancé who's not my type at all. Have her on my jet Monday morning, dressed for a yacht vacation. I need a woman believable enough to convince a certain client that I've changed my playboy ways...yet too annoying to tempt me, no emotional entanglements, thank you very much. This is business only. If she's unfazed by my looks and wealth, all the better. Should be easy. Right? Apparently not, because my people go and hire Tabitha. My hairdresser. What were they thinking? Yes, I said annoying, but I didn't mean her, the most aggravating woman in the world. Tabitha is sunshiny. She has a pet hamster. She loves Hello Kitty, and she gets under my skin like nobody else. As if that's not bad enough, the minute we step on deck, she thinks that certain people on the yacht are up to something shady-based completely on her soap opera knowledge. She won't listen when I tell her she's being ridiculous. But, as the days go by, I find that we're actually having fun. And, our fake kisses are heating up. And suddenly, her wild theories aren't sounding so strange after all...

I may be a shy letter carrier, but when my beloved apartment building is threatened by a mysterious and reclusive billionaire, I'm willing to push the envelope. I'm going to march right up to Malcolm Blackberg's fortress of fierceness and deliver a cease-and-desist notice he can't refuse. Except as soon as I get inside his gilded doors, things go sideways, I'm mistaken for Malcolm's court-ordered emotional intelligence coach, as if I'm acting out a wacky postal carrier cosplay. They drag me in, a sacrificial lamb for the big bad. Make that big, smolderingly sexy bad. So, I make up a lesson involving a story about our building. He doesn't seem happy. Can he tell that I have no idea what I'm doing? Before I know it, I'm flying around the country, up close and personality testing the most devilishly exasperating man I've ever met. He's scary for sure...but the way he sometimes looks at me turns my knees to jelly, and has me writing love letters to his gorgeous eyes, his mouthwatering smile, his impressive...package. Our coaching sessions are getting hot-hot-hot, but I can't let my guard down. If he ever finds out I'm a first-class fake, I'll lose everything I've ever loved in this world!

He's a heartless Wall Street billionaire with the world at his feet-so why does my brother's best friend glare at me like I'm the one flaw in his perfectly calculated life?Hugo Jones is the most feared man on Wall Street-and the president of the Stella Woodward Haters Club.Also? My older brother's stern-math-daddy of best friend.Once upon a time, I had a crush on him. Multiple crushes, actually. And every time I let my foolish younger heart hope, it got stomped flat.So when I move to New York and have to work at his firm-after my dream job offer disappears-I refuse to fall for him again.Soooo not falling for Hugo Jones again.And if Hugo Jones has supposedly impenetrable secrets that explain why he sometimes can't stop looking at me, I'm going to find out what they are, once and for all.