Not his type.
It should have been simple. A temporary move from London to Leeds to manage the office while a boss is sick, but as Fyn watches the workforce enjoy a summer party, he feels more than guilt over the looming downsizing.
He’s tasked with making many happy people redundant, and that includes Libby Pasternak, who has her face painted as a tiger, wears boots on a summer’s day, has an ear full of piercings and is so distracting, she almost bowls him out at cricket. Unthinkable.
Most conflicting of all, why is he even thinking about seizing the moment, instead of his rule concerning getting involved with employees—especially with one so not in his league?
Not her type.
Libby likes blond surfer dudes with big dreams and even bigger smiles, not a guy like stick-in-the-mud Mr. Sensible, otherwise known as Fyn Marlowe. Then he gives her a lift home from the office party, and she finally has to admit to herself the depth of her Grand Canyon-sized crush. One that chokes itself to death two days later, when he erroneously accuses her of screwing up a major account. She may be a bit different, but her work is always the best.
Their blazing row resolves with her getting sacked, ending any chance of exploring where things could have led.
His type, her type—none of the preconceived ideas of a perfect partner matters when the world—literally—comes crashing down.