My Boss My Secret Husband

Hazel was ready for a proposal in Las Vegas, but got the shock of her life when her boyfriend confessed his love for her sister instead.

Heartbroken, she ended up marrying a stranger. The next morning, his face was just a blur.

Back at work, the plot thickened when she discovered the new CEO was none other than her mystery Vegas husband?!

Now, Hazel's got to figure out how to navigate this unexpected twist in both her personal and professional life ...

It was supposed to be a romantic night, the night my boyfriend finally proposed.

As I stood under the fireworks, wedged between my boyfriend and my sister Natalie, I grew annoyed again at the fact that she and her best friend had invited themselves along on our romantic Vegas getaway.

I pictured the ring I had accidentally found in my boyfriend’s backpack the week before. His hand was fiddling with something. Is that a ring box or are you just excited to see me?

As the grand finale of fireworks began, he turned to me. “Hazel?”

“Yes?”

“Will you…,” he hesitated, looking behind me. “Uh, will you excuse me?”

He pushed past me to where Natalie stood. He got down on one knee. “Natalie, I know this is crazy, but…will you marry me?”

“Oh my god,” Natalie and I both said at the same time.

Natalie burst into tears. “Yes!”

My brain struggled to comprehend what my eyes were seeing: my boyfriend putting what should have been my ring on my sister’s finger, my sister happy-crying and pulling him in for a kiss, my hands shoving my boyfriend’s arm with all the strength I could muster.

“What the hell?” I yelled, looking back and forth between him and Natalie.

“Hazel, I’m sorry, I just…” he started.

“Oh yeah? You’re sorry? Get bent.” I flipped them both off and turned, hot tears streaming down my face. I ran as fast as I could through the crowd. I wanted to get as far way from them as I possibly could.

“Hazel, wait!” my boyfriend called after me, but it was too late.

I was already gone.

They say hangovers don’t last forever, but drunk memories do.

I was struggling to believe that as I awoke that next morning, disoriented, my head throbbing. Closing my eyes against the sunlight that was filtering through the curtains, I reached over and fumbled around the nightstand, hoping to God I’d left my aspirin there.

I groaned and pulled the comforter over my head. Suddenly I heard the shower start in the bathroom.

“Babe?” I called out. “Have you seen my aspirin?” I pulled the blanket down and rubbed my eyes.

This is not my hotel room. The realization shook me. And those are not my boyfriend’s clothes mixed in with mine on the floor.

“Oh, god.” Did I have a one night stand with someone?

I tip-toed past the bathroom door, grabbed my purse, and slipped out into the hallway. I wasn’t sure how