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Lucy never meant for her boss to read the letter confessing her feelings. Too bad she lost it in his office.
The day started out like every other: with me crushed under the weight of my wicked-hot boss’s expectations and inevitable disappointment.
And then something bad happened.
It’s worse than the time I spilled a scalding hot latte in Mr. Devlin’s lap. It’s even worse than the morning I accidentally saved a playlist of pop workout songs over a building schematic right before a big meeting.
I lost a love letter somewhere in the office.
The thing is, it’s not even an actual love letter. Let’s call it a therapeutic form of hate mail that went down a twisted bunny trail and ended up sounding like a love letter.
It was addressed to my boss.
And I think he might have found it…
Shari L. Tapscott 