Secret Romance with my Billionaire Boss

Secret Romance with my Billionaire Boss An Enemies to Lovers Romance Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Sallie Steadman All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. Chapter One 2. Chapter Two 3. Chapter Three 4. Chapter Four 5. Chapter Five 6. Chapter Six 7. Chapter Seven 8. Chapter Eight 9. Chapter Nine 10. Chapter Ten 11. Chapter Eleven 12. Chapter Twelve 13. Chapter Thirteen 14. Chapter Fourteen 15. Chapter Fifteen 16. Chapter Sixteen 17. Chapter Seventeen 18. Chapter Eighteen 19. Chapter Nineteen 20. Chapter Twenty 21. Epilogue Chapter One “Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe this. "Natalie, sit down," Kyra muttered, tugging me back into my seat at the large table in the middle of the meeting room. I sank back into my seat, knowing I wasn’t going to make any friends causing a scene, but still having a hard time hearing all of this. "I read the manuscript," Ian told me coolly as he locked eyes with me. "It’s not up to the quality of work we produce here." "Come on, it’s incredible," I argued. "I’ve looked through at least fifty manuscripts since I got here, and hers is the only one that really stands out. If we pass it up—" "Someone else who’s better suited will take it," he cut me off. I bristled. "And we’ll miss out on one of the best writers to pass through this place," I warned him. I knew he was hardly likely to listen to me, a fresh intern with big ideas, but I wanted him to know I was taking this seriously. Ian Boyd. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from him, really. When I had been offered the internship at Boyd Publishing, I had really believed—naively, maybe—that I could make a difference here. A publishing house with this much clout, just think of what they could do with it if they focused on some new authors. Ian was the head of the company and son of the founder—which is to say, he had the run of the place. Anything he said went, and an intern like me wouldn’t change his mind. It wasn’t the first time I had tried to argue in favor of something new, but it was clear it wasn’t getting through to him. I slumped back in my chair, knowing there was no point in making my case any longer. I pulled out my notebook and tore out the page of notes I had made about the writer I was so enthused about. I hadn’t gotten much further than telling him about the book before he had shot me down. By the time the meeting was over, I had stirred up some of my confidence again. I knew I was right in this, and I didn’t want Ian to pass this up just because he had a certain image in mind about what his family business put out there. "Ian, do you have a minute?" I asked him, offering him my sweetest smile. He looked up at me, regarding me with those cool gray eyes as though he already knew what I would come out with. "Is it about that author?" he asked, and I nodded. "Then no, I don’t," he replied, getting to his feet, pulling on his immaculate black blazer, and adjusting his tie. I sighed. When was he going to give me a chance here? They had hired me for a reason, right? He walked out before I could say another word, and I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to get through to him with all of this. He had already made his mind up about this manuscript, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do to get him to see it from my point of view. I watched as he walked out and slumped down into my chair again. Shit. I had really thought, this time, I might get through to him. Really thought that this could be it. But the more time I spent here, the more I wondered if it was just a fantasy I was clinging on to for dear life, not the reality I had imagined when I had come here. And God, I had come a long way for this. As I gathered my stuff and crammed it back into my messy messenger back so I could head back to my desk, I was distinctly aware of just how much I had given up to be here with them. Just how much I had given up to be shot down the way I was. I could still remember how I felt when I received the job offer. The way my heart had skipped a dozen beats inside my chest as I looked over the letter, again and again, waiting to see if it was going to blink out of existence right before my eyes. But it didn’t. It didn’t. It was still there. I was really going. When I applied to Boyd Publishing, it had been the longest of long shots. I’d known that from the second I had sent it off. The chances of actually hearing anything back from them were virtually nil, no matter how good my resume was or how many of my professors had nothing good to say about me. But when I’d spotted the advertisement for an intern position, I figured there was no harm putting in an application. Europe’s biggest publishing house—yeah, it wasn’t like I was going to get it, was I? But then, I did. And I had to pack up every part of my life to go across the world, to move to London so I could start my position there. I had been terrified, of course. Most of the people I went to college with were moving back in with their parents, returning to the