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.

He's a billionaire heir. A grump supreme. Hater of people. Bigger hater of peopling with people. And my new fake boyfriend. "Emotionally unavailable" doesn’t even begin to describe Hayes Rutherford. He has more defenses than a nuclear missile silo. And he’s the ultimate catch of the century. At least, according to his bank statement. My job’s simple: Keep all interested ladies away from the walled-off heir, by pretending to be his one true love. But you know what they say about fake-dating a billionaire: It’s all fun and games, until the scandals start.

Conor Brady is the hottest man I have ever laid eyes on. Ever. He’s also my new roommate. In the past few days, I became jobless, homeless, and boyfriendless. So, I did what any 28-year-old woman with her life together would do: I ran. Far, far away from my life in New York and straight to my big brother’s house in Atlanta. Only, it turns out that my brother is away on a business trip. And he failed to tell me that a full-on, godlike hottie - who happens to be a premier house flipper - has taken up residence in the spare bedroom while his enormous new house is being renovated.

I knew it was a bad idea to get on the elevator. Because now, I have three problems. Number one, I’m stuck in the elevator. Number two, I’m soaking wet from the rain. Number three, he got in before the doors closed. Miles Humphries. My neighbor. The one I hate. The biggest jerk I’ve ever met. Mr. Bachelor-for-Life and I, Rose Taylor, are like night and day. Imagine my jaw dropping when he asks me to be his fake fiancée. And move in with him. Together with my cat. Hello? That’s disaster waiting to happen. But then he makes me an offer I can’t refuse.

I knocked up my best friend's sister. Let's start with how she decided to inform me and Pacey the news...together. Imagine that nightmare. I was going into what I thought was a hockey marketing meeting, and then bam! I'm going to be a dad and my best friend/teammate is attempting to imprint my face with his fist. Threats were tossed around, friendships were revoked, and then I was marched up to her apartment, suitcases in hand, and forced to live with her so I could take care of her every need. Now I'm finding it harder and harder not to fall for my best friend's little sister.

Hockey star Max Yearwood was everything I needed at the time - fun, sexy, up for anything, and only around for a few months, since he’d signed with a new team 3,000 miles away. Max proposed we spend the summer helping me forget my ex. It sounded like a good plan. Things couldn’t get too serious when we had an expiration date. Right? Though, you know what they say about the best-laid plans. 

Hi, my name is Bree Camden, and I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend and star quarterback Nathan Donelson (so is half of America, judging by the tabloids and how much the guy dates). The first step is admitting it, right? Except, I can never admit it to him because he clearly doesn’t see me that way, and the last thing I want is for things to get weird between us. Nothing but good old-fashioned no-touching-the-sexiest-man-alive platonic friendship for us! Everything is exactly how I like it! Yes. Good. (I’m not crying; I’m just peeling an onion.) 

He’s the devil himself: Damon Copeland (he practically carries a pitchfork), fiery-hot, a torturously sexy body, and a killer smile (if he ever smiled). He’s also the top dog at my father’s company and my brother’s best friend. Oh, and someone I accidentally slept with. In my defense, that was before I knew who he was and before he hired me. Now, my one-night stand has turned into my boss. What’s worse, he’s Mr. Bosshole Superior: brutish, broody, and impatient. He’s also 6’4". And I’m pretty sure he hates me. But it’s not as if I planned any of this.

Know that saying about how what happens in paradise, stays in paradise? Yeah, no. That other one about first impressions? Check this out: tall. Broad shoulders. Fine butt. No manners. Expensive aftershave I could swear I’ve sniffed somewhere before. I should keep my mind on the sun, the sand, and the tequila and keep my hands to myself. But it’s Cancun. And there’s sun and sand and tequila...and when Mr. Annoying turns on the charm, I can’t resist. That crucial thing about never sleeping with your boss’ boss? Yeah. Too late.

I moved to Chicago six months ago, determined to finally open my own bakery. My landlady was this sweet woman who treated me like her granddaughter. Then she sold the house. Now the devil himself is my landlord and neighbor, since I live in the guesthouse on his property. Declan Maxwell is moody, unreasonable, and takes himself far too seriously. Unfortunately for me, he’s also damn sexy. Then one day I come home injured from work and he surprises me by taking care of me. And kissing me. And just like that, all my best intentions go up in smoke.

The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well, not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me. 

Reasons why I should not be drawn to Troy Serrano. Number one: He’s obnoxious. Number two: We were enemies more than a decade ago. Number three: He’s my friend’s ex-boyfriend. I could go on and on, really. When my boss gives me an unwanted assignment, and tells me it involves spending time with the grandson of one of our residents, the grandson turns out to be Troy. Lucky me. Four hours a week of having to deal with his insufferable personality and unsolicited advice - the only consolation is getting to stare at his annoyingly gorgeous face, in between our many arguments.

No hot water? Check. Missed the train? Check. Broke my heel? Check. Dropped my coffee? Check. My first day of my new job can’t possibly go worse, right? Wrong. When I meet Parker Scott, I realize this job is going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be. Quitting isn’t an option; I’ll have to learn to deal with the three Bossholes in one way or another.

He's cold, hard, and undeniably arrogant. That's how Andrew Blake's best friends describe him. Bad luck for me that I'm his new assistant. Nothing I do is good enough. I'm beginning to wonder if there's a heart in that tall, hard, gorgeous body of his. After work, I'm complaining about him to my new best friend - the bartender at the pub, near the office. Guess who's seated behind me, and has heard every gripe, grumble and grievance? By the look in Andrew's eye, I can't tell if I'm going to get fired or kissed.

Darcy Kincaid might be a runaway bride, but she still believes in happily ever after, which is why she's devoted to helping couples orchestrate their perfect I do. Even though her fiancée turned out to be unfaithful and a big disappointment, Darcy walked away from her wedding. Now, a single mom, it's up to Darcy to secure her daughter's future, which is why she's invested her life savings into renovating Belle Mont Manor, Portland's oldest, and nearly forgotten, wedding venue.