by Lila Monroe
“Maybe we should try something active,” I suggest, thinking hard. “Rock climbing?”
“You’re pretty much guaranteed to meet cut guys rock climbing,” Zoey says. “But it’s hard work. Sweaty hard work.”
I remember what a mess I look like after working out. “OK, so maybe not rock climbing but something outdoorsy. Maybe . . . surfing . . . ?”
“Shark attacks,” Eve says immediately.
“Hiking?”
Zoey smirks. “You’re not exactly the outdoorsy type, Gemma. Remember that camping disaster a few years back?”
Eve laughs.
“Not funny!” I cry. “Getting trapped in that outhouse was the worst! I was stuck in there for like, an hour.”
“You don’t have to hike the mountains to get outdoorsy,” Zoey suggests with a mischievous look. “You could always go trap Bigfoot.”
“Umm, nope.”
Bigfoot, aka my neighbor, Zach, the hairy man-whore across the hall. He moved in a few months ago, and ever since, he’s paraded woman after woman to his lair.
Zoe is still smirking. “You could do worse. Men like that generally know what they’re doing. Lots of practice and all.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Please,” I groan. “Not if he was the last man on earth. And I use the term ‘man’ loosely. That guy makes Bigfoot look like he’s been manscaped. And when he’s not ‘entertaining’ all his lady friends? The guy sits around playing video games all day! I don’t need a bigfoot and I definitely don’t need one who doesn’t have a job. I’m broke enough on my own, thank you very much.”
“You could just get a dog,” Eve suggests. “You can’t get better loyalty and friendship than that.”
“That’s not all there is in life, Evie,” I say gently.
“You’re right.” Eve leans over and refills my wine glass. “That’s why God invented grapes.”
“And vibrators,” Zoey quips.
We all laugh.
“Start the movie, Evie,” Zoey decides. “If we can’t have real boyfriends, we may as well live vicariously through movies. I mean, seriously, take Jude Law here.” She points her glass at the screen. “Horrible in real life, but I’d break a few laws to bang the shit out of him.”
“Your puns are seriously awful,” Eve giggles. “Not like you take time away from work for dating. Something tells me the only thing you’ve banged lately is your toes against the counter on your food truck.”
“Wait.” Zoey gives her a sideways look. “Do you have a secret camera in my kitchen?”
“Why?” she teases back, “So I can catch you singing along to your Avril Lavigne mixtape from high school?”
“Avril was an underrated songwriter.” Zoey sticks her tongue out.
“Sure thing, skaterboy.”
She tosses a pillow at Eve—which hits me in the face. “Hey!” I protest, laughing. “Weapons down.”
“OK, OK.” Eve lifts the remote. “And be quiet. I don’t want any interruptions to Jude’s sexy British accent this time.”
“Never mind his accent,” Zoey adds. “There are like, ten other things he should be doing with that mouth.”
It’s late by the time we finish the movie, and the girls head home. I change into my pj’s and then settle back on the couch again with my laptop, prepping for work tomorrow.
After hustling together a bunch of part-time freelance gigs and internships after fashion school, I finally landed a full-time job (with benefits!) at Styled, a new fashion start-up. We’re virtual stylists, so people upload photos of themselves and their wardrobe, and we conjure up a makeover, complete with online shopping recommendations, hair and makeup tips, and more. Most of our work is done online, but I have a client coming in for full makeover. Carol has been a stay-at-home mom for nearly fifteen years, but now she’s about to get back out there, working in tech, and needs an upgrade from yoga pants and Skechers to interview outfits.
Clients like this are my favorite. Sure, the high-fashion stuff can be fun, but I love jobs that are about helping a client be the best that they can be. Starting from scratch and seeing the massive transformation gives me a kick every time—not just the changes on the outside, but the effect on clients’ confidence and self-esteem, too.
I’ve been prepping samples and storyboards for Carol for a couple of weeks, all online, but tomorrow is when it all comes together, so I make sure I’m prepared: mentally putting the outfits in order. Figuring out which shoes go with which suit. My mind whirs away with all the clothing combinations.
Until I suddenly feel I’ve been dropped into a nightclub, complete with high-energy dance beats and bass that could shake the rafters. If I had rafters, and not just peeling popcorn ceilings.
What the hell?
Following the music, I head across the hall to Zach’s door. I knock. Louder. “Zach!” I holler, beating on the door. “For God’s sake, would you please turn down the—”
The music shuts off, and the door swings open, in time for my yell to echo at full volume.
“—MUSIC!!”
“No need to yell,” Bigfoot says evenly. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of jeans he must have just pulled on, because only the bottom couple of buttons are done up . . .
And he’s definitely going commando.
A squeak escapes me and my eyes dart back up to his face. I flush.
“So, Emma,” he drawls, crossing his arms over his hairy (yet maddeningly well-defined) pecs. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I ignore that he called me Emma—and punched up the word pleasure—and raise my eyebrows. “Can you please keep it down? It’s almost midnight.”
“Aww, am I interrupting your beauty sleep?”
“Come on.” I try to stay calm. “Some of us have to work in the morning.”
“Sucks to be you.”
I cross my arms, getting annoyed now. “Look, all I’m asking is a little neighborly consideration. Play whatever you like, just keep it regular level. Unless you’re killing someone in there and need it to drown out the screams,” I add.
He smirks. “Well, they’re not screams of pain . . .” He glances back into the apartment, and I realize he must have a girl there.
Typical Bigfoot.
“Bigfoot?” he asks, and I realize I was muttering out loud. Then he looks down at his bare feet before shrugging. “Well . . . You know what they say about big feet . . .” He waggles his eyebrows, and I throw up my hands with a frustrated,
“Mneugh!”
“Zach?” I hear a female voice, and then the screaming girl in question comes sauntering to the door. She’s cute, dark-haired and petite, wearing an oversized Harvard sweatshirt over . . . clearly, nothing else. “Oh, hi.” She smiles prettily at me.
Zach puts his arm around the woman and pulls her into his side. I am one thousand percent sure he’s making a point. “Shonda, this is my neighbor, Emma. She just came over to tell me how much she’s enjoying the music.”
“Gemma,” I correct with an exasperated sigh. He knows my name. He just loves getting a rise out of me. “And it’s not like I want to be a buzzkill, but other people live in this building, too.”
Bigfoot shrugs. “The Kowalskis are out of town, Pete and Kev are at a club, and Cecily works nights.” He gives me a sad-clown face. “It’s the three of us, princess. But if you want to come join the party . . .” He holds the door wider.
Wait, is he seriously inviting me to a threesome right now?
Ugh!
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I say sarcastically. “Maybe another time.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Shonda pipes up. “And I’m sorry, we’ll keep the music down.”
“Thank you!” At least one person here has a heart.
I turn on my heel and stalk back across the hall. Zach’s voice follows me. “A pleasure, as always, Emma.”
I flip him the bird over my shoulder.
He chuckles.
&nb
sp; I slam my door, feeling like I won that one. Until twenty minutes later, when the music starts up again.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yell at the wall.
Although, maybe the music is better than hearing his name yelled out in the throes of passion. For a hairy, rude asshole, the man gets way too many girls. Either he’s right about those big feet, or . . . I have no idea. Hypnosis?
Either way, I’m going to have to figure out some way to deal with him before I wind up a stumbling zombie. Blackmail, or bribery, or sneaking in while he’s gone to disconnect his surround-sound speakers. Nobody would blame me for a little light sabotage, right? Sleep-deprivation is against the Geneva Convention.
I pull my pillow over my head and try to get to sleep.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Will she tame the Bigfoot and his big… feet? Gemma and Zach’s hot and hilarious romance is just getting started! How to Choose a Guy in 10 Days is available to ORDER NOW!
Have you discovered my Lucky in Love series? These sexy romantic comedies all feature alpha men, sassy heroines - and laugh-out-loud shenanigans.
The Lucky in Love Series:
1. Get Lucky
2. Bet Me
3. Lovestruck
4. Mr Right Now
5. Perfect Match
6. Christmas with the Billionaire
BOOK #1:
GET LUCKY
What happens when you wake up in a hotel suite next to a gorgeous naked man with absolutely no memory of the past twelve hours?
I guess it's true what they say. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Or at least I hope it stays here. The Romantic Style convention was meant to be a weekend of raucous fun with friends, sun, and enough poolside margaritas to forget about my ex. But now, instead of meeting my fans and signing books, I'm stuck with cocky divorce lawyer Nate Wexler. He's arrogant, infuriating, and I can't keep my hands off of him. Judging by the state of our hotel room, last night was wild. I just wish I could remember it.
A pair of matching tattoos. A cheap wedding veil. A half empty box of glow in the dark condoms.
What the hell just happened?
Discover the hot and hilarious world of the LUCKY IN LOVE series from Lila Monroe!
Available now!
The Billionaire Bargain Series
Sexy Australian billionaire Grant Devlin is ruining my life. He exercises shirtless in his office, is notorious for his lunchtime hook-ups, he even yawns sexily. If I didn't need this job so bad, I'd take his black Amex and tell him where to swipe it.
He doesn't even know I exist, but why would he? He jets off to Paris with supermodels, I spend Friday nights with Netflix and a chunk of Pepperidge Farm frozen cake--waiting for his call. Because every time he crashes his yacht, or blows $500k on a single roulette spin in Monte Carlo, I'm the PR girl who has to clean up his mess.
But this time, it's going to take more than just a fat charity donation. This time, the whole company is on the line. He needs to show investors that he's settling down, and Step #1 is pretending to date a nice, stable girl until people forget about what happened with the Playboy Bunnies backstage at the Oscars.
My plan is perfect, except for one thing: He picks me.
Available Now!
Also by Lila:
Billionaire Bachelors Series:
1. Very Irresistible Playboy
2. Hot Daddy
3. Wild Card
4. Man Candy
5. Mr Casanova
The Chick Flick Club Series:
1. How to Choose a Guy in 10 Days
2. You’ve Got Male
3. Frisky Business
The Billionaire Bargain series
The Billionaire Game series
Billionaire with a Twist series
Rugged Billionaire
Snowed in with the Billionaire (holiday novella)
The Lucky in Love Series:
1. Get Lucky
2. Bet Me
3. Lovestruck
4. Mr Right Now
5. Perfect Match
6. Christmas with the Billionaire
About the Author
Combining her love of writing, sex and well-fitted suits, Lila Monroe wrote her first serial, The Billionaire Bargain, in 2015. She weaves sex, humor and romance into tales about hard-headed men and the strong and sassy women who try to tame... love... tame them.
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