Hurt and humiliated by her boyfriend’s cheating, Farrah ducks into a bar—and goes home with Caleb for a round of incendiary revenge sex. Horrified when she later finds out she was mistaken, Farrah sneaks out. When Caleb wakes up alone, he has to see her again, but all he has is a single mitten…
Finders, Keepers is a fast, fun novella: a sexy modern Cinderella story with a dash of humor, plenty of spice, and NO CLIFFHANGERS!
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Just three more hours to go. Softly humming “Frosty the Snowman” to herself, Farrah made the rounds with her mail cart, already excited about Global Marketing’s party tonight. Or rather, Justin’s reaction to her killer new dress.
Farrah stepped into the copy editor’s cubicle, her short red skirt trimmed with white marabou feathers swinging. She dropped a couple of manila envelopes onto his desk and resumed her circuit through the quiet maze of workstations.
The cart took a sudden lurch to the left — the darned wheel stuck again. The detour triggered the motion-activated Rudolph on the new guy’s desk — and the glares of coworkers — as a tinny version of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” blared.
The new guy smiled, his eyes on her short skirt.
Maybe not her best choice—he probably thought she did it on purpose, just to meet him. Farrah rotated the offending wheel and shuddered: a gummy chunk of red candied fruit clung to the rubber. Who really eats fruitcake?
The guy turned from his computer. “Hey. I’m Brad. Need a hand? ”
She smiled at his eagerness. ” Can I get a tissue?”
“Absolutely.” He yanked two out of a box and handed them to her, grinning.
“Thanks. I’m Farrah. Nice decorations — I love the holidays.” She extracted the nasty wad of gunk from the wheel.
“Will you be at the party tonight?” he asked.
“Yes, with my boyfriend, Justin.” Farrah pretended not to notice the way his face fell. “Nice to meet you, Brad.” She tossed the crumpled tissue in his trash bin.
It would take more than fruitcake to dent her mood, her usual holiday cheer sparked higher by anticipation. Still humming, she finished her rounds and wrestled the mail cart back into place. Her stomach growled at the smell of cinnamon from the plug-in air freshener. It’s a break from Pumpkin Spice, anyway. A few festive cubicles were decorated in bright tinsel garlands or Hanukkah dreidels, but this year most employees had refrained after Shelby, the new department manager, made known her distaste for such “vulgarity.”
Someday I’ll be free of Shelby and the corporate world, too.
At least the witch hadn’t extended her disapproval to attire yet. In addition to her red skirt, Farrah wore small holly earrings and her pine-green nails glittered with tiny candy cane decals. Her late grandmother always told her, “Have fun while you’re young, honey—it gets beat out of you soon enough.” Farrah had taken those words to heart.
No one was going to ruin her holidays, not even her dragon lady boss. Tonight’s party was destined to be wonderful. She smiled, imagining the look on Justin’s face when he saw her in that glamorous new dress, and slipped back to her cubicle. Her “in” box brimmed with more documents to photocopy. One eye on the clock, Farrah raced through her drudge work.
The moment five o’ clock arrived, she hurried to gather her bag and coat and rushed outside, humming “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
I write the things I love to read: steamy, fun stories about ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances, smart women and men who aren’t jerks. I like to read about friendships, either close women or a good bromance. I want all the feels: the thrill of a smoldering gaze or the barest brush of fingertips, the shocked gasp at the underhanded villain, the angst of heartbreak, the joy of reunion, and of course, happily ever after!