Lovers' Lane

I was nine when I befriended him. Seventeen when I kissed him. And 18 when I threw all dirty thoughts about him in the trash. Vincent Turner is my bad-boy best friend. I've never said no to him. Even when he asked to copy my homework in high school. Even when he asked me to be his wing woman. I've seen his girlfriends come and leave. He's brought me ice cream after my heartbreaks. And then it all goes to sh*t. His filthy rich parents find him a doll to marry. And he asks me to be his wedding planner.

The hottest race car driver to ever exist. Jason likes to win. Every. Single. Time. So when he heard of my engagement? It made him skip town faster than he takes those death-defying left turns. That engagement never turned into marriage. I broke it off. Only to have him not living next door to me anymore. I've called a million times. Cried a thousand tears. Has he heard that I'm still single? Logic tells me that he has. So, the real question is: Is he ever going to return?

My boss hired me while I was drunk out of my mind at a party. Wobbling around, whining about being unemployed. But it was no charity. I'm qualified—over-qualified—for this job. Seriously, I'm really, really good. So good that that I got drunk (again) and fell into Simon's bed. Mr. Simon Cox. Uptight. Freakishly organized. Too proud. And way too rich. All the things I'm not. All the things I never want to be. Imagine his reaction when he enters my Brooklyn apartment that looks more like a pigsty than a home. Anyhow, he came over to ask for a favor. And he came prepared....