Novels by Amara Dahlgren

Carmen's POV “Hey," I yelled, tossing my toothbrush into the sink.“You don't tell me what to do." Chase retorted, a crashing sound following his words. “I have made myself clear…” "We never reached that agreement,” I countered.Taking a deep breath, I shoved my hand into my wet hair. “It's your practice game, you can't miss it." “Get off my phone." He hung up. I was simmering with rage but it was not enough for me to toss my phone carelessly, instead, I set it down on the sink carefully. “What's happening?" Millie asked, poking her head into the bathroom but I didn't answer her.“Are you… are you fighting with your boss?”"Get off my face.” I huffed, shoving her aside after picking up my hand drier. At eight am, I reported to work, praying and hoping that Chase would get his stubborn ass off his bed and come around. I was going to ask the receptionist if he was in but something felt off. Jaime, the receptionist, was smiling at me which was unusual. She always kept a stiff fac

Carmen's POV The moment I stepped out of the elevator into Maddox Management’s top floor offices, I knew today was going to be tougher than my last visit.I had been given a laptop, a company phone, and a list of tasks for the day that looked like three people’s workloads combined. Whoever had been handling Chase’s schedule before me must have had the organizational skills of a toddler because it was chaos.His appointments were overlapping, calls stacked on top of one another, and there were about four urgent emails that had been ignored for days.I started with the basics.At 8:15 a.m., I was sitting at my desk just outside Chase’s office, laptop open, coffee at my side, and a sticky note plan on my monitor. To make things easier, I had color coded his entire week, shifting meetings so he would have enough time to get from one to the other. I called his physical therapist to confirm appointments, rescheduled a sponsor photo shoot that clashed with a training session, and emailed

Carmen's POV Maddox Elite Training Facility was one of those places that looks like it was designed by someone who thinks minimalist luxury was a personality. Glass walls, black steel beams, everything was gleaming and polished. Even the air smells expensive, like eucalyptus and money.Trying not to look around, I walked in, clutching my tote bag like it was a shield. When I got to the receptionist desk, she gave me the same look someone would give to a stray dog that wandered into a jewelry store.“Are you here for the interview?” she asked, her voice neutral.“Yes,” I nodded. "Carmen Vega, I was scheduled for eleven o’clock,” I added. She studied me for a few more minutes before she picked up the phone, murmured something into it and then gestured for me to take a seat. The couch in the waiting area was so white that a single stain was going to be so obvious. Cautious, I perched on the edge, careful not to leave a stain.A few minutes later, a man in a tailored navy suit appea

Carmen's POV“Not again!" I groaned, burying my head in my palms. This morning, some people woke up to the smell of fresh coffee but me, I woke up to the ping of another rejection email.Lying on my couch still in my pajamas, I was glaring at my laptop screen like if I stared hard enough, the words would magically rearrange themselves into Congratulations, you’re hired.Spoiler, they didn’t.“We appreciate your interest in the Marketing Coordinator position, but…” I filtered off, slamming my laptop shut. There was always a but in every email and now it was the word I detested the most. “I should apply for a Guinness world record. Six rejections in a row in just one month.” Snapping my head backwards, I leaned back, allowing my head to flop over the arm of the couch. I was staring at my ceiling as my bank account balance whispered ugly things in my ear. My rent was due in two weeks, and apparently I was unemployable.I was going to let out an ear splitting scream when the front do