Perfectly Imperfect is Free for a limited time!
This is a fun rom-com between two stubborn personalities who think they are immune to love- until they meet and the sparks fly!
What happens when Miss Perfection clashes with Mr. Casual?
Georgina’s in trouble. The startup money she borrowed from her parents’ retirement fund is long gone and her dream of owning the next big thing in market-to-table cuisine disappeared with it.
Her only choice? Merge her company into the corporate giant, CLO, and hope she isn’t making a huge mistake.
Rhys Turner is his father’s progeny, born and raised to take over the empire when his dad deems him ready. Rhys doesn’t mind the fast-paced lifestyle, though he detests the coldblooded mantra of the corporation- Buy from the weak and sell at a profit.
It’s made his family millions. But now, just when CLO’s reins are within reach, he’s run into the one woman who could change everything.
A delightful mixture of women’s fiction, chick-lit, romantic comedy, and New adult, Perfectly Imperfect has something for every reader.
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Recommend on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/perfectly-imperfect-by-jacquie-biggar
This is lining up to be one of those days. The flight from Vancouver departed late, and the car service my PA hired got a flat tire on the freeway, leaving me stranded for forty minutes at the airport until another could be arranged. Serves me right for not grabbing a cab, but it doesn’t help my mood whatsoever.
I’d argued with my father and the board of directors over the wisdom of adding to our investment portfolio at a time when the market is so unstable. Their answer; “We must strike while the iron is hot. These companies are selling for a tenth of what they’re worth. If we don’t step in and scoop them up, someone else will.”
I’d heard that jargon, or something close to it, ever since I’d finished university with a master’s in business administration, and been persuaded—none too gently—to repay the debt I owe my father by putting my education to work—for him.
I couldn’t blame Dad, not really, but it annoys the hell out of me when my recommendations are ignored, leaving me to wonder why I’d spent the last eight years busting my ass to get a degree I can’t even use.
My elevator companion is eyeballing my high tops with misgiving. I smirk, taking a selfish joy out of doing something my father would most certainly disapprove of—a style faux pas.
“Does your boss know you take time away from work to go on a coffee run?” I stare at her with disapproval. No wonder the company is failing if it’s run so shoddily.
Her mouth drops open, then snaps shut as though she’s biting back some creative language. She’s cute in a librarian-meets-fashionista kind of way with an upswept bun thingy in her thick brown hair, oversized glasses that makes her green eyes huge, and wide-leg white pants hugging curvy hips. But she is still on my dismissal list.
If Bloomin’ Right is going to have a second chance, it’s my job to get rid of the deadwood—case in point, Miss Sassy Pants.
“My boss,” she emphasizes, “Doesn’t know his di… plomacy from a hole in the wall.” She lifts a brow as if to say, ‘so there.’
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