The Richmond Brothers Series by Alina Jacobs

I admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that .Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment!That’s kind of what I I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!Grayson Richmond needs some positivity... moreI admit it was me who shouted, “Looking good, hot stuff!” at Mr. Richmond this morning, but I didn’t mean it like that .Yes, Mrs. HR Lady, I know how it looks. Believe me, I am totally anti-catcalling, but that’s not what that was. Honest. I was paying him a compliment!That’s kind of what I I’m a proud, small-town Floridian, and Manhattan is craving some Florida sunshine—nothing like a sincere compliment to turn those New York frowns upside down!Grayson Richmond needs some positivity.Have you seen how grumpy he is?Sure, he’s the big boss, but I’m always at his house, so we’re kind of, well, not friends, that would be awkward, but like…Okay, so no, I didn’t actually meet him until today. I only go to his penthouse to drop off the dry cleaning…Wait, I’m sorry, he felt threatened ? Are you kidding me?I’m dead broke, my fashion style is Disney adult, and I’m five feet tall when I stand up straight. People constantly stop me and ask me if I lost my mommy.Grayson is six foot five, one of the richest men in Manhattan, and literally owns multiple city blocks and two of the tallest skyscrapers in the city, which is, by the way, totally a phallic calling card.Yes, I understand that Mr. Richmond takes these matters very seriously.No, I’m not making a mockery of this company or of him.Yes, I will return to my duties as Mr. Richmond’s lowly assistant of the assistant to the secretary.No, I’m not being snarky. Believe me, my credit card debt and I are very happy to have this job.Also, I hate to ask, but Mr. Richmond didn’t say anything about the notes of positive affirmation in his underwear drawer, did he?It wasn’t anything awkward like “I want to bang you.” Because, you know, I don’t want to. Not at all.Is he hot? Washboard abs, that jaw, those hands —phff yeah! After all, my momma didn’t raise no liar. But I’m not going to like, tell him, because that would be weird.Wait, what? He wants to see me in his office? Now? Like now now?Gulp!This is an enemies-to-lovers, grumpy New York billionaire boss versus Florida-sunshine assistant, stand-alone romantic comedy! If you like cupcakes, sparkly stickers, and hot guys in suits whose rigid routines get a hilarious shake-up, this book is for you! Happily ever after guaranteed! less

Forget the summer I turned pretty…that was the summer I got hips, acne, and utterly humiliated by Aaron Richmond. This summer? This is the summer I had to marry the bastard. When I walk down the aisle towards my enemy, all to save the Coleman family fortune, I shouldn’t give in to my wounded inner 14-year old-self. I should smile, blink up at him prettily, and declare to have and to hate… Err...hold. Too bad I’m Granny Madge’s namesake... moreForget the summer I turned pretty…that was the summer I got hips, acne, and utterly humiliated by Aaron Richmond. This summer? This is the summer I had to marry the bastard. When I walk down the aisle towards my enemy, all to save the Coleman family fortune, I shouldn’t give in to my wounded inner 14-year old-self. I should smile, blink up at him prettily, and declare to have and to hate… Err...hold. Too bad I’m Granny Madge’s namesake. As soon as I begrudgingly say, I do, I toss three tiers of wedding cake on my new husband, kick him in the balls, and down a whole bottle of champagne. He retaliates by dropping me face-first in his foyer after carrying me over the marital threshold. I respond in a mature manner by eating a bag of chips in his bed and letting my cat puke on his pillow. Yeah, this is totally how I’d always fantasized about becoming Mrs. Richmond during my teenage infatuation. That obsession? Gone. Never to return. Not even when he takes off his shirt and his hair is slightly messy over his forehead… In fact, I loudly declare that I am dryer than my mom’s spelt muffins. Suddenly that six-five muscular body is hovering over me—the deep voice purring in my ear… “This will go easier for you if you aren’t.” Gulp. We’re not married like that. There’s a dangerous glint in his eye when he drops the 530 page marriage contract on the table, turns to page 280 and informs me that we have to consummate the marriage or the whole thing is null and void. “You should have read the contract, Coleman.” Damn him he’s right. Because if I’d known I’d have to sleep with my husband, I never would have married him. This is a full-length, enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy, complete with smokin’ hot-but-festooned-in-red-flags heroes, a shocking amount of spice from two people who claim to hate each other, and of course the perfect happily ever after! less