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R.S. Grey (Author)
4.5 out of 5 stars
Good morning my dear, naive friend,
I hope you’re enjoying a breakfast of regret and sorrow.
Because you sent me to work for Dean Harper, aka a control freak in a tailor-made suit. Sure he owns the trendiest restaurants in NYC, but c’mon Jo, his ego makes Kanye West look like the Dalai Lama.
He’s the type of guy that only hears the word “no” when it’s followed by “don’t stop.”
Working for Dean Harper would be like selling my soul to the devil…and before you say anything, I don’t care if the devil has punch-you-in-the-gut brown eyes and an ass to match. My soul isn’t for sale.
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