The moment I laid eyes on the new photographer at work, I had his number. Cocky, arrogant, and super-wealthy, women were eating out of his hand as soon as his tight ass crossed the threshold of our office. But not me. I knew better. When we were forced to go to Paris together for an assignment, I wasn’t interested in his seductive smile, his sexy accent, or his dirty laugh. I wasn’t falling for his charms.

My boyfriend is getting married. Okay, technically he's my ex-boyfriend. Two months ago, he decided he wanted a break. I still thought he was my happily ever after. On any other day, knowing he was gone for good would be the worst thing that could possibly happen. But not today. Because not only is my boyfriend getting married, his bride is my best friend. And they've sent me an invitation.

I’ve sworn off men to focus on my dream job that starts on Monday. But my best friend talks me into a final night of fun—a blind date. I only agree because the guy is going to work as a doctor in Africa. It’s the best date of my life. Dr. Africa makes me laugh and swoon, and I want to give him a thorough physical examination. He turns into Dr. One Night Stand, and I’m not sad about it. Monday morning, I’m enthusiastic and excited, until I bump into...you guessed it.

Wanted: one hot billionaire to pose as my Christmas boyfriend. Must be willing to make my cheating ex jealous when you kiss me under the mistletoe at all the holiday parties. Bonus points if you make him cry. To my surprise my billionaire boss is more than up for the challenge of coming down the chimney as my holiday boyfriend. The sexy single dad desperately needs a plus one at a Christmas Eve wedding, where he’s the best man and I’m the maid of honor.

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.