Single and Sassy In The City Books

Can you imagine having a one-night stand with the one guy you absolutely cannot stand? Trust me when I say you do not want to make the same mistake that I did. His name is Colton. Colton Hart. He’s my brother's best friend. My nemesis. The man that fired me after working for him for one hour. Now he’s my latest mistake. And it’s all the fault of my best friend Isabel and her spiked eggnog. And the masks. And that one slow dance at my brother's work party that got me all hot and bothered. I didn’t know it was him. Not until we were outside, pressed against the wall devouring each other. He doesn’t believe I didn’t realize it was him at first. The next morning my brother found me in his bedroom. With Colton’s boxers in my hand. FML! So I pretended I was there to do his laundry as his new assistant. Colton’s smirk tells me that he thinks that this is something I’ve always wanted. But it’s not true. I do not want Colton Hart. In fact, all I want for Christmas is not him.

To Whom it May Concern, This is a long shot. I’m seeking a billionaire; I will also settle for a millionaire. Sorry, I’m not interested in any salesmen looking to sell me a time-share or a part of their animal balloon company (been there, done that). I am not a gold digger, though you may not believe that. I have references. Ask all my broke exes and my best friends. To be fair, I am not a glamorous model, actress, or professional dancer. I do, however, take pole dancing lessons (for fun, of course, not dollar bills). I am an educated (still have the student loans to prove it), open-minded (toy stores are fun, and not for games), fairly cute (when I try), only a little curvy (those last thirty pounds don’t want to leave) single female. I want to be swept off my feet, wined, dined, and bedded in ways that make me forget my name. I have a job (that I hate), with a boss that makes me want to jump off a cliff. However, my friends make up for the day job. I’m ready for an adventure. And possibly a penthouse with a maid and a design budget. If interested, please respond before Monday morning so I don’t have to go in to work. Love, Sultry Sassy Sarah * * * Note to self. Don’t write stupid ads while half drunk and hanging out with immature, obnoxious friends. Certainly, do not post them on the internal company message thread by mistake. Do not freak out when your boss says he wants to see you in the office first thing Monday morning. And please never make a joke, asking how many dollar bills he has to make it rain, ever again. I’m dead meat.

I just announced my engagement to a hot billionaire. Yes, you read that right. A billionaire. And it was announced in the New York Frigging Times. My family is ecstatic and already celebrating. Only they don’t know the truth. My engagement is faker than my Chanel handbag. My fake fiancé, Jackson Pruitt, is paying me to pretend to be in love with him so he can inherit his family’s company. How cliché! My parents are planning free trips to Fiji. I’m counting down the days to end this thing. They don’t know he’s the same man I had a one-night stand with. Or the man who was super annoyed when Lenny at the bodega gave me his number. And promptly left me tied up to a bed for five hours. How rude! Now Jackson and I are headed to the Hamptons to convince his family our love is for real. Only I want to gag. If the hallway bathroom incident is anything to go by, he’s not going to make this easy on me. I’m still blushing redder than a beetroot at the sounds all one hundred guests heard. But believe you me, I’m going to have the last laugh. Jackson Pruitt and I may not be in love, but will I make him go down.