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Sweet, sexy, succulent Sapphire Hart.
She had curves for days, smooth, fair skin and a short, platinum pixie cut which drove me completely and utterly insane. She was a real
spitfire, which originally drew me to her, but in the end
things weren’t what they seemed. Not at all.

 
    I sat at my desk for hours; unable to
concentrate knowing that Mirabelle was sitting twenty feet from me in her
office. If she wasn’t my intern and I wasn’t trying to mold her into tomorrow’s
leader, I’d have thought about asking her out for a drink.

 
    Feeling completely useless, I locked up
my desk and office doors and walked past hers. The big leather chair swallowed
her up, and although she was young, she looked so dedicated and professional
sitting in that spot.

 
    “Here you go,” I said as I walked in and
slapped a fifty-dollar bill on her desk. “For dinner.”

 
    “Oh,” she said as she grabbed it. “This
is too much.”

 
    I waved her off. “It’s fine. I’m sure
there will be others. Just keep it.”

 
    I turned to walk out of her office and
stopped in the doorway. Just a few short months ago, I’d stood in that very spot while I watched Sapphire pack her things.

 
    I recalled spinning around to face her. Normally spunky and fiery and quick witted , she looked defeated . Bags under her gorgeous blue eyes and
lips quivering, she said, “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

 
    “Yeah. Right,” I said to her as I turned
my back towards her. I didn’t want to hear her out. I’d seen all I needed to
see the night before at dinner. She was a fucking liar and manipulator. Not
someone I intended on spending another second around. “You can see yourself
out. Collect your things and turn your keys into Ruthie.”

 
    “Preston,” Sapphire called out to me.
“Wait…”

 
    I didn’t wait, though. I kept walking
until I got to my office where I slammed the door and locked it behind me.

 
    “Did you need something?” Mirabelle
called out softly, jarring me back to reality.

 
    “No,” I said. I hung my head for a split
second, stuck my hands in my pockets and took a step forward. “Have a good
night, Mirabelle.”

 
 
 

 
 
SEVEN

 
 
 
    MIRABELLE

 
 
 
    Tuesday morning marked my second full day
on the job, and I was flooded with even more excitement than before. I jingled
the keys to my fancy office as I hopped onto the elevator with a bunch of other
interns.

 
    “So I hear you’re working for Mr. Woodfield ,” one of them, a petite blonde girl with a sleek
bob said. “How’d that happen?”

 
    I shrugged. I didn’t want them to resent
me. I hadn’t asked to work for him – he just chose me. “I’m still trying
to wrap my head around it.”

 
    “Lucky you,” a snarky Asian guy in a too-tight
shirt huffed.

 
    The elevator dinged and the doors parted,
letting the interns off on floor four. I headed up to floor six and couldn’t
wait to tell Preston about all of my ideas for the Johnston account. I’d woken
up with a head full of crazy new things we could try to get their products
launched, and I knew he was going to be impressed.

 
    My mama always told me I thrived too much
on other people’s approval, but I couldn’t help it. There was no better feeling
than putting a smile on someone’s face because they thought I was simply amazing.
I lived for that moment, especially when that person was super hard to
please…like Preston.

 
    I unlocked my office and threw my purse
in a desk drawer before heading to the employee lounge to get a cup of coffee.
The Keurig brewer sat freshly filled with water,
likely thanks to Ruthie, and a myriad of different teas and coffees sat neatly
displayed for my picking.

 
    I selected a Seattle dark roast and
popped the cup into the brewer. A minute later, my mug was filled with steamy
dark coffee and the aroma filled the area around me. I held it up to my nose
and breathed in the heady