How To Decorate An Entrance Nook On A Budget?

Maya Bennet came to college with one goal: survive. Keep her scholarship. Work enough hours to pay her bills. Graduate. Don’t make mistakes. Especially not the kind that come with a charming smile and a football jersey. The last thing Maya needs is Cole Ryder. The star quarterback has a reputation for breaking hearts, avoiding commitment, and never taking anything too seriously. He’s exactly the kind of guy Maya has spent years avoiding. But somewhere between late-night study sessions, stolen moments, and Cole showing up whenever her world starts falling apart, he becomes impossible to ignore. For Cole, it starts as curiosity. Then concern. Then something much more dangerous. Before he realizes what’s happening, the girl who never believed she’d be chosen becomes the center of his entire world. But falling in love doesn’t magically fix real life. Maya is still carrying the weight of family problems, financial stress, and years of believing she’s only worth what she can accomplish. As old wounds reopen and painful family secrets come to light, she’s forced to decide whether she can finally stop carrying everything alone. Because Cole isn’t the only one falling. The real question is whether Maya can believe she deserves the kind of love that’s willing to stay. Filled with laugh-out-loud banter, found family, emotional healing, college chaos, and a swoon-worthy quarterback who falls first and falls hard, The Rogue Next Door is a heartwarming slow-burn romance about learning that sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let someone love you.

After ten years studying interior design overseas, I came back to my hometown to do work that mattered to the people who raised me. I offered the full package, from site survey to soft furnishings. The materials were chosen by hand. The price was fair to the bone. The town had just gone through a redevelopment. Everyone was getting new units. With the new family policy, every family wanted a third bedroom too. My business was good. Customers from the next county were driving in. Then a girl just back from a city college kicked open my studio with her phone on a livestream and her neighbors at her shoulder. "This is the dishonest one. Look at her. She has been ripping the village off." "In the city, an eighty-square-meter unit can be done for twenty thousand dollars. She is charging eighty." "That's a sixty-thousand-dollar margin. Sixty thousand. Right out of our pockets." The village fell in line behind her. They demanded the difference back. When I refused, they smashed my studio. They beat me into a coma. The pile-on online killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I would refund every single one of them. And then I would tear out every single thing I had installed. Let's see what twenty thousand dollars actually buys you.

Thea Morris is 23 years old and she works as an interior designer for a well-known company in Paris. She always rejected all the guys that asked her to go out on a date. She doesn't date nor has a boyfriend because she always makes herself busy with her work, work, and work. Joseph Sanchez is 26 years old. He's the owner of Sanchez Corporation also name J.S Corporation. He is well known because of his good-looking face and also he's one of the richest bachelors in New York. He loves to play and break women's hearts. For him, all women are the same who like to easily give their bodies like a whore. When Joseph going to open a new hotel in Paris, of course, he needs an interior designer to make a design for his hotel. That's when Thea is chosen and the one who's gonna in charge of that job. At first, they just act as a professional boss and employee. But then, days by days the attraction between both of them have become stronger. But the problem is Thea didn't want to have any relationship with Joseph because she's afraid that he might leave and break her heart just like he did to other women. Read to find out more...

I was always flying for work, so I left the whole renovation thing to my husband, Daxton Pruitt. This time, my flight got scrapped last minute, so I swung by the house to check in. The second I stepped inside, some woman named Mona Scambley, who claimed she was the designer, chucked a stack of invoices at me. Couples' lingerie display case: $15,000. High-end waterbed: $40,000. One glance at that pile of overpriced tacky nonsense made me nauseous. My brows pulled tight. "Ms. Scambley, this is a private house, not some couples' motel. What is all this?" Her face flipped in a heartbeat. She jabbed a finger at me. "The owner gave those orders. You're just the site supervisor. Disobey me again, and I'll have Mr. Pruitt fire you!" Then she spun around and called Daxton right there. I laughed, cold and low, about to ask what kind of clown show designer he'd hired—until I heard his voice. Gentle. Doting. "This is Mona and my love nest. We'll do whatever we want. Don't like it? Get out." I smiled, snatched the list from Mona, and nodded. "Sure." One week later, that overpriced waterbed showed up—Daxton, very much not smiling.

I was the only female carpenter in town, and I made caskets at cost price for anyone in the area who needed one. Everyone said I was generous, kind-hearted, the whole routine. Then one afternoon, Doug Hadley showed up at my shop with his wife Trish Grady and a handful of neighbors to order a cremation urn. Trish stared at the price tag. "An urn for only 50 dollars? What is this, scrap wood?" Doug shot her a look. "Don't run your mouth about things you don't understand. It's solid ebony. Bridget makes them herself, so it's cheaper." Trish snickered behind her hand. "Solid ebony? That might fool someone who doesn't know any better. My cousin runs a funeral supply shop, so trust me, I know what I'm looking at. This isn't ebony. It's plywood. It's five dollars' worth of material, tops. "I can take you all to my cousin's place. I'll make sure he gives us a deal." The neighbors were already nodding. "The urn's supposed to last a hundred years. Obviously, I want the best for my mom." "Selling plywood and calling it ebony... You ought to be ashamed." "Come on, let's all go to Trish's cousin. I'm not giving her the chance to make dirty money off any of us." Dirty money? As far as I knew, mine was the only shop in town that actually stocked real ebony. Everyone else used MDF. If they were not afraid of the thing falling apart, they were welcome to go for it.

“Three hundred dollars for rent just went through. Thanks, Claire.” A text popped up on Claire’s phone from a contact saved as “Mark.” I grabbed the phone before she could react and froze. “Rent?” I asked. “You’ve been telling me every month that money was from your side job.” Her face went stiff. She reached for the phone, trying to take it back. “He was my sister Emily’s husband,” Claire said quickly. “After Emily died, he was left with two kids. I was only trying to help.” My hand brushed against the anniversary gift in my pocket, and something inside me went cold. “Which apartment is he paying rent for?” Her lips parted, but it took her a long time to answer. When she finally did, she gave me the name of a neighborhood. My ears rang. It was the downtown apartment my parents had left me. A spacious unit that could rent for ten thousand a month at market rate. And she had leased it to her widowed brother-in-law for the absurdly low price of three hundred dollars.