No longer burdened by the oppressive weight of finding a spouse for her employer, when Francesca Neary entered Addison’s outer office later that morning, she didn’t walk in. She practically skipped. Having already called Millie from Joanna’s to set up an appointment, Fran wasted no time. After smiling at the two junior secretaries and sending Millie a quick wink, she sashayed over and knocked lightly on Addison’s door before walking inside.

Looking up from her desk, Addison didn’t waste a second as she grabbed a nearby folder and threw it in Fran’s direction. “You have got to be fucking kidding me” she bellowed, mindless of the paperwork now covering the floor. “Have you completely lost the plot?”

With a sigh, Fran knelt and gathered the documents she had given to Addison a few days earlier. After taking the time to straighten them, she stood back up. “No, I haven’t, and it’s a good deal, although I’ll have to amend it a bit.”

“You bloody well will!” Addison snarled. “Do you have any clue as to how much money you’re talking about?”

“Yes,” Fran said as she sat down. “Adding in all the possibilities, as it stands right now roughly nine million pounds, but like I said, I need to make a few changes.”

“You sure as hell better believe you’re going to make a few changes because there’s no fucking way I’m going to agree to that!” Addison said, pointing at the papers in Fran’s hand.

“Yes, you will, and the sooner you come to terms with this the better!” Fran said as she jumped to her feet. “You’re between a rock and a hard place, and all your shouting and bravado are not going to save you. It’s time to pay the piper, Addison. If you want to keep your company, then you’ll agree to whatever terms I come up with because there’s not a woman on the face of this planet who’s going to do this for free. You’re asking someone to change their name, give up five years of their life at a minimum, and live a lie while they’re doing it. Trust me, that’s worth a shit load, whether you believe it or not.”

Addison straightened the stacks of papers on her desk. “I don’t even know why we’re arguing about this right now. Until you find the sodding tart, there’s no point in talking about it.” Spinning her chair around, she looked out the window. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have things to do.”