Surprise! I’m Engaged To My Boss (Fated By Surprise #1)

Prologue

CAMILA

Los Angeles

How the hell had I ended up here?

Have you ever stopped, at some point in your life, and asked yourself the same question?

I had felt this three times in the past few hours. The first was when I arrived last night at one of the company parties.

I simply didn't understand the need to force people who, for the most part, had no affinity with each other, to participate in an event like that.

If it was already unpleasant in small companies, in large companies it became unbearable. That bunch of unknown people, boring music, bad food and department heads giving their speeches already drunk and completely disposable.

However, I knew exactly what I was doing there.

This time, it was more than just an obligation to keep my job. There would be an announcement of some promotions, and I had the illusion that my name would be on that list.

As soon as I got there, I discovered that I was completely wrong.

The second question had to do with my own professional life.

I was a trained architect, with a postgraduate degree and a master's, I had been the best student in my class, and I knew how good I was at what I did.

When I joined Turner Architecture to take on a position as an assistant, I thought it would be just the first step on my path to success.

Two years and seven months later... I was still in the exact same position. No matter how hard I tried, nothing made the slightest difference.

Meanwhile, my direct superior, Victor Smith, had recently been promoted to a higher position using my projects. Taking credit for my work.

This party, by the way, was also to celebrate that.

And I had bought the most beautiful dress my salary could afford, believing that I’d be the one to get that promotion. It was the most hateful expense and illusion of my life.

When I heard him, along with a group of executives, bragging about his new position, I grabbed the first glass of champagne from a waiter who was passing by.

That was the first and still shy dose of alcohol of the night.

The party was held in the lobby of a luxurious hotel with tropical decor. In addition to a dance floor, tables and a bar, the space was filled with stands like beach kiosks, selling things like coconut water, shrimp skewers and all kinds of crafts.

I wasn't planning on spending a single cent on that. I’d already spent too much on that dress, and now I just wanted to take advantage of the all-you-can-eat buffet and open bar to try to recoup some of the losses and drown my sorrows.

The buffet was of the highest quality, which made me think about the outrage of all that spending on something as useless as a company party.

I only planned to stay for half an hour — just long enough for everyone to see me, then I’d go home to spend the night snuggled up with the only bad boy I trust: my cat.

Real cat, by the way. Men? No, thanks. They spell trouble — and I already have enough of that, thanks to that infernal office.

I was getting ready to leave when that asshole Victor Smith got everyone's attention, starting a speech about his promotion. And then, a very masochistic part of me decided to stay and torture myself with that, while I fantasize about the many ways in which I could kill that idiot.

It was then that I decided that champagne was no longer enough for me and that I needed something stronger. I went to the bar and truly began my night of great mistakes.

Soon after, my attention – and that of everyone there – was drawn to the event's main attraction: Michael Turner, one of Turner Architecture’s heirs, where I worked.

It was the first time I had seen him in person—although I’d been working at his company for over two years, and he had only been CEO for a few months.

He had his own floor of the company, all to himself, with his own select group of personal minions, and he didn’t mingle with the other employees, like me.

He was very different from the image I had of him.

Well, at least I confirmed one thing that everyone said about him: he had quite the playboy look.

In half a second, there were already three beautiful women around him, fawning over him.

And a drink seemed to have appeared in his hand by magic.

However, despite the comments about his beauty also being quite constant, I swear I had no idea he was that handsome.

Truth be told, my boss was temptation in human form.

But that, of course, didn't change the great failure that my life was. This became even more evident when Michael Turner approached that shitty plagiarist Victor Smith and greeted him.

Those congratulations should’ve been for me. Along with the promotion. I had spent sleepless nights working on that project and all Smith did was take credit for it.

There was nothing left for me to do other than get drunk to drown that disappointment.

Somewhere around my third or fourth drink — yeah, I’ve always been a lightweight — things got blurry. My memory only restarted the next morning, when I woke up.

Lying face down on the bed, as soon as I opened my eyes I saw a large room, with a minibar and a huge TV.

I definitely wasn't at home.

The first time I tried to get up, my head hurt, and I had to close my eyes again and wait a few more moments to try again. Then, I sat down, resting my feet on the floor, repeating to myself that question from the beginning.

How the hell had I ended up there?

I put one hand to my head, finding my hair piled up like a sparrow's nest. Sleepily, I ran my hand down my neck until I reached my shoulder.

I was struck by the fact that I could feel my skin directly.

No straps or bras. I slowly lowered my eyes, afraid of what I would find, but my suspicions were confirmed.

I was completely naked.

I found my clothes scattered across the floor. One item in every corner of the room—my dress, my underwear, my bra, my tights, my shoes—as if they had been thrown with great fury.

“What the hell is this?” I mumbled, too sleepy to process what had happened.

Flashes invaded my mind.

I was happy, smiling, practically laughing and... kissing a guy?

I remembered opening the door to this room and walking in, accompanied by someone. Both of us laughing, having fun.

And I was the one who took off my shoes.

Did I also take the rest of my clothes?

If all of that was already scaring me enough, suddenly complete terror came when I heard someone mumbling something behind me, at the same time that I felt movement on the mattress.

I jumped up, spinning my body around.

Oh my God!

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!

I really wasn't alone!

There was a man lying on the bed, appearing to be waking up at that moment. He was covered from the waist down, but his chest was exposed, which gave me plenty of clues that, like me, he was also completely naked.

Even though it was the first time in my almost twenty-five years of life that I had woken up without clothes sharing the same bed with a man, I knew there was only one possible explanation for it.

I tried to pull the memory, and my head started hurting again. What the hell, I couldn't remember anything else. How could I not remember my first time?

Seriously? I’d held on to that damn virginity for almost twenty-five years, thinking I was saving myself for a special moment with a special guy — only to end up sleeping with a total stranger after a night of drinking?

A very hot stranger, but still a stranger.

He rubbed his eyes, finally seeming to acknowledge my presence there. Then, he said something:

“Sorry, but I don't remember your name.”

Okay... that was far from the most romantic thing I could dream of hearing from the guy who had taken my virginity.

What would my grandmother say if she saw me right now?

“What is this place?” he added.

He closed his eyes, visibly affected by some kind of pain. Probably his head, too. That was all I needed: my first time had been completely drunk with an equally drunk guy, who seemed to remember as much of the previous night as I did.

In other words: absolutely nothing.

It was all frustrating and embarrassing... to say the least.

I wasn't going to tell my name to a stranger – even if I had slept with him the night before. So, I began to anxiously pick up my clothes from the floor. It was only then that I took a closer look at him and could hardly believe what I saw.

He was not a total stranger.

He was my boss!