1: A boss from hell

Riley’s pov

This was a terrible idea. Worse than cutting your own bangs. Worse than eating gas station sushi. Worse than that one time I had tried to fix my own car and ended up setting off the airbags.

And yet, here I was, stepping into the glass fortress of Maddox Sports Management, clutching a lukewarm coffee and a résumé that wasn’t even mine.

How did I get here? Oh, right. Because my twin sister, Vanessa, was a manipulative little escape artist who had tricked me into taking her job and then conveniently disappeared to “find herself” in Bali.

I inhaled deeply, staring at the sleek lobby that practically screamed money and stress. The receptionist eyed me like I was already a disappointment. Fair enough. I felt like one too.

I forced my shoulders back, stretching out my lips in a forced smile. "Hi, I’m Riley Harper. I’m here for—"

The receptionist eyed me up and down before pursing her lips. "You're late."

Great. Fantastic start.

I cleared my throat. "I had some… unexpected delays."

She arched a brow, unimpressed, then gestured toward the elevators. "He's waiting for you upstairs."

Oh, fantastic.

My stomach clenched. I knew who he was. Jax Maddox—world champion, tennis god, and apparently the most impossible man to work for.

"Riley," I muttered to myself, inhaling deeply. "You just have to last a month. One month, and Vanessa will be back, and you can go back to your normal, peaceful, Jax-free life, and pretend this never happened.”

I stepped into the elevator, gripping my coffee like it was a damn emotional support animal. By the time the doors opened to his office, I had mentally prepared myself for anything. Except him.

Because the moment I stepped inside, Jax Maddox was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, watching me with the kind of smirk that instantly made my blood pressure spike.

He didn’t say anything at first—just let his gaze drag over me in slow, amused assessment, like he already knew I didn’t belong there.

Then, he smirked deeper.

“Well, well," he drawled. "My new assistant finally decides to show up.”

My stomach twisted at his tone—cocky, amused, like he was just waiting for me to screw up. I hated him. Instantly.

I had to remind myself that I needed this job. ‘Vanessa’ needed this job. We both needed the money. So instead of throwing my coffee in his face, I bit back my pride and said, "I apologize for the delay. It won’t happen again."

Jax tilted his head, his smirk still firmly in place. "Oh, I know it won’t. Because I’d have you know, none of my assistants last more than a month. But you’re welcome to prove me wrong if you like."

My jaw tightened. Oh, you arrogant little—

"I’ll do my best, sir," I said instead, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

He let out a laugh, like I had just told him a joke. "Sir? Sweetheart, I’m not some sixty-year-old CEO. Try again."

Sweetheart?

I swear to God, my eyes reddened, my fists clenching by my sides and all I wanted to do was punch his big head off his neck. But I needed this job. So I schooled my expression and said, "Noted."

Jax’s eyes flicked over me again, still assessing. "Good. Now, first task—" He tossed his gym bag at me. It was heavy as hell. "I need this at the training facility in twenty minutes. Oh, and grab me a coffee on the way. Black. No sugar."

I stared at the bag. "Wouldn’t you like to use a gym loc—"

He raised his brows and I instantly snapped my mouth shut. Damn it.

"Anything else?" I gritted out, clenching my jaw. Vanessa knew what she was doing when she sent me here. She knew my tolerance for cocky, overgrown frat boys was nonexistent, and yet she went ahead with it anyway.

His smirk was all teeth. "Yeah. Better start setting your alarm early. We’re at the courts by four a.m. every day."

Four. In the morning?!

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I might have been bleeding. "Noted."

Jax just grinned. "Welcome to hell, sweetheart."

I spun on my heel and marched out, gripping his stupid gym bag with all my strength.

One month, Riley. You just have to survive one month.

###

I was convinced Jax Maddox was placed on this earth to ruin my life.

It was only my first day, and I was already sprinting through a parking lot, late, holding his ridiculously heavy gym bag and a coffee that was definitely spilling all over my hand. My hair was a mess, my lungs were burning, and my patience? Already running on fumes.

"Move, move, move!" I muttered, dodging between parked cars like I was running an obstacle course. Jax had specifically said twenty minutes. I had exactly twenty minutes. And yet, here I was, twenty-three minutes later, looking like a lunatic.

The moment I pushed through the training facility doors, I knew I was screwed.

His tall, athletic frame was relaxed, tennis racket in hand, bouncing a ball against the ground like he had all the time in the world. His coach stood beside him, checking his watch with a frown. The second Jax spotted me, his head tilted slightly.

And then—

He smirked and my stomach instantly knotted in pure rage.

"Ah, my assistant finally arrives," he called out, loud enough for everyone to hear.

I stormed over and dumped the gym bag at his feet. "Traffic," I gritted out.

“Traffic?” He glanced at the crystal-clear roads outside. Then his blue eyes flicked back to me, amusement flickering. "You’re not a very good liar, sweetheart."

Sweetheart? My fingers twitched at the pet name. "I also got your coffee."

I stretched the cup out to him. He took it and took a sip— And immediately spit it out. The entire court went silent.

"What the hell is this?" Jax glared at the cup like I had handed him poison.

"Black coffee. No sugar," I said, standing my ground.

Jax slowly turned the cup, reading the label. "Caramel macchiato.” His expression darkened, like I had personally offended his entire bloodline.

Oh, shit.

He stepped closer, towering over me. "Do I look like I drink caramel macchiatos?"

I blinked up at him. "I don’t know," but what I really wanted to say was, ‘maybe you should work on your communication skills if you expect people to get your exact order right.’

His lips curved, but there was no real warmth behind it. Just challenge. "You should work on your listening skills. As an assistant, you’re doing really bad right now.”

I wanted to throw the coffee in his stupid, perfect face.

His coach cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "We should start warm-ups, Jax."

Jax didn’t look away from me. His eyes traced my face, slowly, deliberately, before he leaned in—just enough to make it infuriatingly personal.

"You’re not going to last a month," he murmured, just for me. His breath was warm against my cheek. "I promise you that."

Then he pulled back, turned on his heel, and strode onto the court.

I stood there, seething.

One month, Riley. Just one month.

I shoved the coffee into a trash can and stomped toward the benches, deciding the best way to survive this job was to ignore Jax entirely.

That’s when the doors opened again.

And I suddenly forgot everything. Because a man walked in, effortlessly confident, dressed in a fitted tracksuit that clung just right. His dark brown hair was perfectly tousled, his jaw sharp enough to make a girl stupid. But it was his eyes that got me—golden-brown, warm, inviting.

And when they landed on me, his mouth quirked into an easy, irresistible smile.

"Hey," he said smoothly, his deep baritone voice reverberating down my spine. "You must be the new assistant."

Oh, wow. I felt my stomach do something ridiculous because this man? This was exactly my type. Unlike Jax the Menace, he had the kind of easy confidence that didn’t need to be cocky. His voice was warm, his smile genuine.

I straightened. "That’s me.”

He stopped in front of me, offering his hand. "Leo Carter," he said. "Nice to meet you."

I took his hand and—okay, wow—his grip was firm, warm, hot. Laced with sparks. My heart pounded against my ribs, and I had to remind myself to take a breath.

"Riley," I said, a little breathless. Because unlike Jax—the insufferable, ego-inflated menace—this man was dangerous in an entirely different way. The kind of man who didn’t need to try to be charming.

His smile deepened. "Riley," he repeated, slow and deliberate, like he loved how my name rolled off his tongue.

A thrill shot through me. This was not good.

His fingers brushed mine before he released my hand, but I swore my skin still burned from the contact. He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice.

"So tell me, Riley," he murmured, "how’s your first day going?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, an irritatingly familiar voice cut through the air.

"Leo," Jax called out lazily. "Come over to the court and stop playing around with my assistant."

Leo didn’t even flinch. He just grinned, eyes still locked on mine. "Your assistant, huh? I’m sure that’s working out great for her."

Jax glared at him. “Get your petty ass over here."

Leo chuckled, stepping back. "We’ll talk later, Riley."

And just like that, he walked away.

I exhaled, realizing I hadn’t taken a single breath since he walked in.

Jesus. This job was going to kill me.