I’m your average girl—well, *was*—who spends most of her days buried in CEO romance novels. Yeah, I know, *so cliche*, right? But hey, we all have our guilty pleasures. So, what about work, you ask? Well, my job made it easy to read the day away as long as I got my tasks done by the end of the day. Sounds perfect, right? Simple, right?

Well, that's because I was a librarian. *Past tense.*
Why? Because some arrogant, narcissistic jerk gets me fired. Why? Apparently, I didn’t notice him walking up to the counter because I was too busy getting lost in my latest book. Now, you’d think any *normal* person would just tap me on the shoulder and say, “Excuse me.” But no, this guy *decides* to get me fired. Rude? Oh, you bet.

But that’s not even the worst part. Oh, no. The real problem started when I decided to get my revenge. That’s when I got tangled up with him… in more ways than one. Now, not only am I working for this narcissistic jerk, but I’m doing it undercover. Why? Because apparently, he has an issue with women working for him... especially when things get *too close* in the sheets. (Yeah, you *get* where this is going.)

So, I’m pretending to be a man. Why? Because I need the job. It’s high-paying, and it’s my ticket out of my miserable, *pathetic* life. I mean, revenge is great and all, but I’ve got bills to pay. Money’s my new love, and there’s no way I’m letting some petty rivalry get in the way of it.

The tricky part? Balancing my need for cash with the fear of being exposed. I’ve got two huge secrets: one, I’m the woman who shared the sheets with him. And two? I’m a woman, disguised as a man, and praying every day that my cover doesn’t blow. One wrong move, and my entire life—my job, my reputation, my *revenge*—could come crashing down. So, yeah, no pressure.

But hey, what’s life without a little drama, right? Right."

The woman in the suit reappeared, her voice all business as she said, "Mr. Rowan, the CEO will see you now." 


Rowan. Yeah, that's the name I'm going by today. Pretty cool, right? Time to put on my game face and pull out all the stops. 


The lady led me down a polished corridor that opened up into a seriously high-end area. The receptionist was a guy, sharply dressed, the kind of guy I would usually take a moment to appreciate if I wasn't already shaking in my boots about meeting the CEO. He looked exactly my type—charming, clean-cut, sharp—but no, today was not the day for eye candy. Not with everything that was riding on this. 


Chapter 13 - Mr Rowan's Job