Under the Stars

I moved to this godforsaken town to run the family business. I need a new assistant, and the options here are limited.

Some might say I have unrealistic expectations, given that I change assistants faster than most people can pour themselves a cup of coffee. Their incompetence just drives me mad. If that makes me a person with high standards - so be it.

It went on like this until Georgia Reynolds came to my company. She irritates me as much as she captivates me. Besides the fact that Georgia does her job excellently, this girl is a ray of sunshine. But I have neither the desire nor the time to watch Georgia flit around the office like Tinkerbell. Moreover, her taste in music is ridiculous, and she rides a silly, cute little white scooter. Did I mention that she sings in the shower and in the changing room when she's alone?

The new assistant has somehow become my greatest weakness.

But I am her boss and don't intend to become a pathetic cliché. It doesn't matter that my cold, wounded heart has started beating again. In our world, that is a sign of weakness.

And I do not tolerate weaknesses.