Dear Mr. Brisken: How do I hate you? Let me count the ways. I hate your smug, sexy millionaire face. I hate your cocky, skirt-chasing, playboy ways. I hate working as your secretary - but, I love the pay. It almost makes dealing with you worth it. I hate how my friends call you a BILF, when really BILK (Boss I'd Like to Kill) is more appropriate. I hate that I need you to be my date for my best friend's wedding because my ex-boyfriend, the King of Heartbreakers, and his new busty blonde girlfriend will be in attendance.  

I've been dreading this for a year. Okay, that's a lie. I've been dreading this reunion since we graduated high school 10 years ago. So why am I here, standing outside the door like the eternal wallflower I am? I'd say it's because my younger sister browbeat me into it, but the truth is, I'm tired of being a nobody. Of never taking a risk with myself and my life. And...well...maybe I'm also hoping to see him. The tall, insanely gorgeous man walking my way now. Oliver Fritz is regarded as one of Boston's sexiest doctors. I know him as the former god of our school.

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.

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.

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.

Jud Lawson found me stranded in the rain. Broken down on the side of the road in a deserted neighborhood with my piece-of-crap car. I wasn’t looking for a hero, and definitely not one who looks like him. An obscenely hot mountain of a man who screams danger. But I have little choice other than climbing onto the back of his bike.

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.

My heart opens to Cooper Haywood the moment we meet. How can it resist? He's charming, devastatingly handsome, and sweeps me off my feet before I realize the impact he's making. And then it's too late. We fall too fast to worry about the consequences. We love so hard that we ache when we're apart. Even though I have a past that still haunts me and he has a future that could put us at risk, none of that matters when we're together. Until it does. And then everything changes.

Forevers don’t exist when you’re on the run. Amelia cannot get attached - not to the town or the people in it. And definitely not to the tall, dark, and handsome mafia prince who sweet-talks his way past her carefully built walls. Why put yourself through that, knowing it’ll all be ripped away when you leave? And she will have to leave. This life isn’t hers to keep. Sam calls her Snow, like the fairy-tale princess. But her life is far from a fairy tale. Even a prince can’t change that.

I was never supposed to see him again. Him being the man wearing the perfectly tailored suit, who oozed an intoxicating mixture of wealth, rebellion, and sex appeal. One night. No strings. No names. Still riding the high from last night, I walk in to meet my new client, and he’s wearing that same dangerous smirk. Yes, I’m consulting for Callahan Sharpe. That Callahan Sharpe. Billionaire heir who abides by no rules, bucks convention, and is determined to complete one final project to honor his late father’s legacy. Luckily, and unluckily for me, I’m tasked to help.

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.

Things that suck on my wedding day - walking in on my groom kissing another woman 20 minutes before the ceremony. Things that suck worse? The woman he’s kissing is my mom. I head straight for the bowling alley bar down the street and ask for a double. And in walks a deliciously charming local football hero - Harlan Taylor. Yes, I’ll take another drink in the form of a one-night stand with this hunk of a man. In the morning, he asks if I want to get together again. More rebound nookie? Yes please!

The contract says I have to get fake-married to a Witlocke. It doesn't say which Witlocke. Apparently, any stuck-up jerk whose last name begins with W and ends with E will do. Oops, was that my out loud voice? Enter my nemesis, sinfully sexy tech mogul Donovan. We’ve been mortal enemies since third grade, but he’s all too willing to meet me at the altar, for reasons he refuses to share with me. Whatever he's planning for me, it can’t be good.

Maxx Reynolds needs help. His shop, house, and life are all in a state of disarray. In desperation, he turns to the internet to hire a new employee, thinking it will make his life easier. What he expects is a fellow named Charly. What he gets is a quirky, sassy redhead named Charlynn who runs circles around him. And she's all woman. He can't stand her. He can't keep his hands off her, either.

I’m back in Eastport Bay for the first time in five years—and not thrilled to be here. There’s a reason I’ve stayed away so long. The place lost its magic for me long ago—the night the only girl I’ve ever loved proved beyond a shadow of a doubt she didn’t feel the same. But this trip is nonnegotiable. I’m planning to fly in, attend the ridiculous ball, then get back to Europe as quickly as possible. That is until I arrive at the family estate early and catch the cleaning crew still at work. And get a look at the woman beneath that coating of dust, ash, and spiderwebs.