Cold Hearted Casanova by L.J. Shen EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: L.J. Shen
- Language: English
- Genre: Women’s Romance Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 10 MB
- Price: Free
D U F F Y
As I sat in front of Love Is Blind, crying into a sleeve of overpriced
digestive biscuits, mourning my breakup with the man I thought was the
love of my life, it was clear to me that my night couldn’t possibly get
any worse. Maybe if I died. Even then, I’d get a much-welcome relief
from my pain and anguish.
Was love blind? Quite possibly. There was no other way to excuse
how I’d failed to read the writing on the wall. To be honest, it wasn’t
even on a wall. It was on a bloody flashing neon billboard in Times
Square, accompanied by a jingle: Duffy, you’re a fool / you are dating a
tool / He’ll never ask for your hand / how daft are you not to
understand?
All rights reserved, et cetera.
And, it wasn’t even a proper breakup. More like a quasi breakup. A
half breakup. A don’t-expect-me-to-wait-for-you-even-though-we-bothknow-that-I-will breakup. A Rachel Green, we-were-not-on-a-break
breakup. You get the drill.
“Silver lining? That’s as bad as my life is going to get,” I mumbled
aloud to my biscuit, which in answer crumbled onto my pajama-clad
chest.
Don’t tempt me, you cow, the universe replied in the form of my
mobile buzzing next to me on the couch.
“Sod off,” I muttered, before my gaze landed on the phone screen,
on which Gretchen’s name flashed.
Gretchen Beatty, my boss, was the anchorwoman of The World
Today, WNT’s flagship show. As her executive assistant, I was in charge
of her entire life. Until six months ago, when Gretchen announced that
she was taking a position as the White House press secretary and would
be leaving New York for DC. Which also meant WNT was not going to
renew my work visa. The worst part was, I couldn’t afford to tell my
tyrannical boss just what I thought about her, even though I had only a
few days left of work. She was the type of woman who would refuse to
give me a reference if I so much as dared to order her grande iced
americano with half-and-half instead of a dash of oat milk.
More on my woes later.
Clearing my throat, I swiped the screen. “Hello?”
“Good God, Daphne. Slacker much? It took you ten minutes to
answer.”
I checked my new watch. It was eleven o’clock at night. “Is there
anything I can do for you?”
I was certain there was. If making me work odd times was an
Olympic sport, Gretchen would have been its Serena Williams.
“It just dawned on me that it’s Lyric’s sixth birthday tomorrow, and
I was so busy with the handover to Claire, I forgot to buy my baby a
gift.”
Busy with the handover, my foot. I was the one liaising with the
woman who’d inherited Gretchen’s throne—investigative journalist
Claire Scott—and her flock of assistants.
Since I could see where this was going from two planets away, I
gave her my assurance. “I’ll buy Lyric presents first thing tomorrow
morning. Do you have a budget in mind?”
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