That’s the version of my two weeks’ notice I should’ve sent to my boss, because the more professional version–the one where I said I was “grateful for all the opportunities,” and “honored by all the rewarding experiences” over the years?

That letter was rejected with his sexy, trademark smirk and an “I highly suggest you read the fine print of your contract…”

So, I did.

And now I’ve realized that unless I fake my death, poison him, or find a way to renegotiate my impossible contract, I’m stuck working under one of the cockiest and most ruthless bosses in New York.

Then again, I thought that was the case until he called me late last night with an emergency proposition…

**This is a standalone contemporary romance.**