Three margaritas, two shots, and one beer—because it was free.I think it’s important to be open and honest with your co-workers, don’t you?So here I am, being honest. Drunk but honest. Or just drunk with lust? You decide.I like you so much it’s clouding my judgment and making me do things I never would sober. Like write this letter.I have a hopeless, foolish, schoolgirl crush on you when you are the last person on earth I should be falling for. Did you know people around the office call you a sadist? An egomaniac. An insensitive, arrogant prick. Your bark is worse then your bite, and you don’t scare me. The fact is, I’d love that bite of yours to nip at my bare skin while we’re both wearing nothing but sheets.For once I want you to look at me as more than one of your employees. And as long as we're being honest, that navy blue suit you wear? With the crisp white shirt? It really makes me want to loosen your tie and show you who’s boss. Love,Sincerely,Yours.

    It isn’t until after the police have arrived that Catherine realizes exactly who it is she has saved: Brett Madden, hockey icon and media darling.Catherine has already had her fifteen minutes of fame and the last thing she wants is to have her past dragged back into the spotlight, only this time on a national stage. So she hides her identity. It works.For a time.But when she finds the man she saved standing on her doorstep, desperate to thank her, all that changes. What begins as an immediate friendship quickly turns into something neither of them expected. Something that Catherine isn’t sure she can handle; something that Catherine is afraid to trust.Because how long can an extraordinary man like Brett be interested in an ordinary woman like Catherine…before the spark fades?

    And the more I drank, the more I wanted to do something reckless to celebrate.By reckless, I mean the sexy and alluring man dressed in a business suit standing near the bar. You know his type—tall, dark, handsome. I was sure he was out of my league, but I’d had just enough alcohol that things like that no longer seemed to matter. I’m not fat, mind you, but you can tell I like french fries, so there’s that.He took me home, and I enjoyed the hottest birthday sex of my life. Well, until it came to a screeching and rather unwelcome halt.There’s nothing quite like being interrupted mid-ride with a little voice asking, “What are you doing to my daddy?”Just kill me now . . . or so I thought.Come to find out, the man I rode like a bull at the rodeo is my new landlord.