Halloween Flip

By Abby Knox

Maple

 

I have worked tirelessly to win a big advertising account at the company I work for, and now it's been handed to a junior employee — and I think I know why. The good ol' boys' network is at it again. If only the too-cool CEO of this company, Hollis Hardy, could spend a single day in my shoes, he'd realize he made the wrong choice.

Oops. Did I say that out loud? Maybe that wasn't the smartest wish to share with the world while standing next to a flirty, gorgeous CEO on a perfect fall evening…so close to Halloween…right before drinking a suspicious-looking brew…in a town full of people who believe that they possess real, magical powers.

 

Hollis

I'm not sure how one employee wishing I could spend the day in her shoes ended up coming true, but Maple Morrissey is a powerful woman. Unknowingly, Maple has been wielding her powers over me since the moment I stepped into this branch office. My attraction to her aside, I'm now stuck in her body on Halloween, and she's trapped in mine. One of us has to fly to New York to speak to the board of directors, while the other has to stay behind and spend a day working in a cubicle for a bully manager.

No one seems to know how to help either of us escape this predicament, but Maple knows one thing for sure: in the future, she'll be careful what she wishes for.

Me? All I've ever wished for is someone like her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Author Abby Knox, LLC
• Release date: Jul 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224386185

Abby Knox

Abby Knox writes feel-good, high-heat romance that she herself would want to read. Readers have described her stories as quirky, sexy, adorable, and hilarious. All of that adds up to Abby’s overall goal in life: to be kind and to have fun! Abby’s favorite tropes include: Forced proximity, opposites attract, grumpy/sunshine, age gap, boss/employee, fated mates/insta-love, and more. Abby is heavily influenced by Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Gilmore Girls, and LOST. But don't worry, she won’t ever make you suffer like Luke & Lorelai. If any or all of that connects with you, then you came to the right place.

Book preview

Chapter

One

Maple

Bros are so charming when they help each other stumble up the corporate ladder, aren’t they?

I…ah…I don’t know what to say; this is such an honor for me…thank you…I’m sorry I’m not good at speaking off the cuff….

Brayden, the new hire, runs a hand over the back of his neck self-consciously, laying on the who, me? act quite thick.

Oh, please. Under the conference table, I squeeze my stress ball, not at all pretending it’s Brayden’s neck. The kid knew all along he was going to win the account.

And who is the broseph responsible for Brayden’s outpouring of gratitude? That would be Hollis Hardy, the CEO of OnPoint and absurdly attractive specter who’s spent the last week floating around our Birchdale branch.

Oh, Hollis is good. That square jaw and flat mouth had me fooled into thinking he was so calm and impartial, stoically listening to our group’s ten different campaign pitches. Until l saw his antics at last night’s office party, I believed I had a chance.

I’ve always been rigid and focused, a goody-two-shoes who plays by the rules. And for what?

I should thank our office manager, Brenda, for planning last night’s office party at her house instead of at a stuffy dinner somewhere. Otherwise, I never would have seen the keg stand incident. And if I hadn’t seen that, I would have gone into my presentation this morning hoping to win.

What had I been so nervous about all week? With my presentation being the last one today, I should have guessed I was an afterthought. I’m such an idiot.

And now, guess who’s got the account. Not me, despite working on this pitch for months. All because a pea-brain fresh out of college is here for five minutes and gets drunk with the big boss.

Fuck my life.

This is especially overwhelming for a socially awkward guy like me, Brayden goes on, adjusting his tie, with his fake ass aw-shucks grin that every person around this conference room table is buying except for me.

No dude. Just no.

You’re not socially awkward. I saw you yukking it up with Hollis last night like old frat brothers, only fifteen years apart in age. Pathetic, both of them.

But I don’t say any of that out loud at the morning conference. I do say something that will get me eye rolls but won’t land me in a meeting with Human Resources.

I’m sorry, Brayden. Misusing the phrase ‘socially awkward’ is a disservice to people who actually do struggle with diagnosed social anxiety. It’s ableist.

Brayden comes back with, Uh, what?

Meanwhile, the predicted eye rolls commence, along with some sighs and tongues clicking. A muttered, oh, brother. A few of the older folks’ eyes glaze over. The intern, Hayley, decides to stare out the window behind me, astral-projecting herself into the hustle and bustle of the downtown harvest festival.

Don’t we all wish we were down there on Main Street right now instead of here, oh sweet intern, watching our hopes and dreams go up in a haze of testosterone?

The only person in the room who doesn’t react to my little outburst is Hollis Hardy.

In fact, the CEO, with his mathematically tousled hair and geometrically perfect bone structure, smirks at me.

Why? Why is Hollis looking at me like that?

Hollis leans back in his ergonomic, big-boss-man chair and presses the tips of his fingers together, eyeballing me like I’m a specimen to be studied.

Your name again?

Really? Did you just sit through my 20-minute advertising pitch and not remember my name? Figures. Maybe he’d remember my name if he knew I could chug a Natty Light in one go and then belch the alphabet.

I swallow. M-Maple Morrissey. Damn, I sound flustered, yet I’m not nervous. The only thing I feel right now is the powerful urge to give every man in the room an atomic wedgie and stuff them into a locker.

Which is something I really should not be feeling in a boardroom. Your face ain’t exactly good at poker, as my dad would say.

Hollis Hardy’s heavy-lidded brown eyes blink slowly, and he says, Mabel?

Maple. Like the tree. Common mistake.

Why yes, I’ve spent a third of my time on this earth correcting people on my name. Happens seven times a day. Usually, it doesn’t make my cheeks feel hot, though. Ugh.

Hollis continues to stare at me, for a really long time. As if those cheekbones aren’t sharp enough to cut glass, his eyes are deadly weapons. They are so dark brown they’re almost black. Like a shark.

This is uncomfortable.

I clear my throat.

Hollis clicks his pen.

Interesting point, Maple.

Is it? Is it interesting, or is that a filler word you use when nobody knows what to say?

I don’t say that out loud, either.

Nobody utters anything for a long moment, then Hollis breaks the tension by standing up and shaking Brayden’s hand. Congrats, buddy. See you bright and early on the plane tomorrow.

Awesome, replies the glowing Brayden, who looks like he’s just been proposed to by the love of his life. I’m going to be sick.

Hollis then addresses the group, I say we all take the rest of the day off to enjoy the harvest festival. It’s been a long week. See Brenda on your way out for drink and meal tickets.

Everyone is falling all over themselves to thank Hollis as we are dismissed. I try to paste an emotionless expression on my face as I break down my easel and disconnect all my hardware and accessories. My clenches as I wordlessly gather up the fidget toys, stress balls, and other miscellaneous branded items I had scattered around the table that nobody took with them. Fine, then. I can sell it all on eBay. Is it stealing, considering the extra swag was a business expense? Maybe, but then again, I no longer care.

And that not caring so hard anymore? Feels pretty damn good. I know…look at the badass stealing office supplies. Gaze upon the bad bitch and bow down, everyone.

See you at the festival, Maple?

I whirl around at the sound of my name. Hollis Hardy is there, standing too close to me as everyone else is filing out. Not close enough to be inappropriate, but too close for my comfort in my current emotional state. He’s got his lean arms crossed over his middle, and before I can stop myself, my gaze falls to the hand that circles his bicep. Hollis’s fingers are long and veiny, with strong knuckles that remind me of a piano player’s. I should know how to spot them, thanks to all of my mom’s students who’ve regularly haunted our front parlor with its baby grand piano over the decades.

Maple?

He repeats my name in a mildly amused voice that hits me in the center of my chest. I ignore the blush creeping up my neck due to getting caught staring at his hands. Why do I care if he’s got nice hands when his brain needs fixing? I snap my gaze to meet his, and another sensation annoys me. Up close, Hollis’s vibe is less like an emotionless shark and closer to that of a big cat that’s found a juicy little morsel he’s about to enjoy batting around the room.

Hi. I mean. Maybe. Maybe. I’ve got a lot of stuff to put away and organize. Why am I babbling? Stop it, Maple. "And I’ve got work to catch