Читать книгу Breaking the Boss’s Rules - Nina Milne - Страница 8

Dear Diary

My name is Imogen Lorrimer and my life is in a less than stellar place right now.

For a start there is every possibility that my temporary new boss is about to fire me. His name is Joe McIntyre and, just to really mess with my head, he has taken to appearing in my dreams.

Naked.

Last night was particularly erotic. I won’t go into detail, but we were in his office and let’s just say various positions were involved … as were varying bits of office furniture … glass-topped desk, red swivel chair…

Obviously I know this is thoroughly unprofessional and utterly inappropriate.

In my defence he is gorgeous.

Think sexy rumpled hair—dark brown, a tiny bit long, with a few bits that stick up. Think chocolate—the expensive kind—brown eyes. Think a strong but not too dominant nose. A long face, with a sculpted jaw and clearly defined chin. Oh, and a body to die for—Joe McIntyre is a long, lean fighting machine.

Problem is, however much I appreciate the man in my dreams, the real live clothed version of Joe McIntyre is a ruthless corporate killing machine. He is a troubleshooter who has been called in to overhaul Langley Interior Design and we are all in danger of losing our jobs.

In fact there is every chance he will fire me on the spot tomorrow—especially given my recent screw-up.

I cannot let that happen. I cannot afford to lose my job. Not on top of everything else.

To be specific I am:

Homeless—my scumbag boyfriend, Steve, of three years has just dumped me for his ex—Simone—and thrown me out of the flat we shared. So I am currently living with my BFF—and, whilst I love Mel like the sister I never had, I can only sleep on her pull-out bed for so long. I think I’m cramping her style.

Heartbroken—Steve ticked all the boxes on my ‘What I am looking for in a Man’ list. I thought he was The One.

Broke—I blew my savings on a romantic holiday for Steve and me. And, unbelievable though this may sound, he is now taking Simone. How humiliating is that?

It’s no wonder that I am fantasising in my dreams. My real life sucks.

Time for some ice cream, methinks!

Imogen x