There are a few things you absolutely don’t do in Adrian Terranova’s world.

You don’t question him. You don’t challenge him. You don’t call him by his first name.
You definitely don’t contradict him in front of his entire staff.

Unless you’re me, apparently.

I’d love to say I stood up to the bosshole from hell and walked away unscathed,

but that’d be a lie.

First he got me fired from the job I couldn’t afford to lose. Then he made sure the only position in the city I could get was working as his personal assistant.

He runs his office with iron buns and icy glares. Every day is cloudy with a chance of grumpy. Every moment is a test he expects me to fail, but I’ll happily disappoint him.

They say he’s impossible to please? That he never smiles? Well, I don’t run from challenges. I run into them. And then I make them attend office glitter parties with hot dogs.

Sometimes I also get scared on company flights and crash face first in my boss’ lap during turbulence. Or there was the time I wound up half-naked in his hotel room… But I know one thing for certain. No matter how many times I have to look at his obnoxiously attractive, insufferably arrogant rear end, I won’t break. I won’t even bend.

Adrian: I won’t break her, but she’s absolutely going to bend. Over my desk, I think. Or maybe the couch in reception?

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