Meet Eva King, a high-spirited manager in an international firm. She scraped her way up from zero to hero in the cold, hard world of power, money, and politics, where nothing and no one was going to get in her way.
Until handsome Sven came along. No...
We've finally made it to the close to the end of the year! Yeah, it's Christmas soon... so, Ho Ho Ho.
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Did you think I'd lose myself because I fell in love?
Nope.
The sass is still here, the ass is still there—at least the last time I checked, and I'm still a bitch on heels to the assholes.
If you're hoping that this is a story where I become all soft from falling in love, like an ice cream melting in the sun, then you're reading the wrong story. I mean, what the fuck about all these romance novels where the protagonist loses herself in love and becomes Snow White, with birds chirping and all?
I hate Disney princesses, by the way.
Fuck that shit, because bad-ass Eva is here to stay.
What's happened since I proposed to my fiance?
Well, I've got a new tattoo. How did that happen? Let's just say that about a year ago, drunk Eva (yes there's no denial that it was me, and I'm face palming right now) promised her work buddies at a pub one night that she would never fall in love.
Walt and his crew bet drunk Eva that within a year she would find herself a man and fall in love. She bet against it.
Long story short, drunk Eva lost the bet and come December a year later, the lads and ladettes accompanied her to a tattoo parlor, with Sven Handsome in tow.
Sven, by the way, had been teaching Walt some Norwegian swear words, and Walt was in the process of "educating" Sven with some Australian slang that you'd never learn in English classes.
It was the evening of my last day at Hudson Engineering, and Walt and the usual after-work drinks crew shouted me a farewell party at a local pub.
Earlier that day, there was an official farewell event at our office, hosted by Gary, who gave me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. Then, there was the unofficial party where my workmates and I let our hair hang down.
To complete the ritual of fulfilling a lost bet, the crew took me to a city tattoo parlor.
"Eva! Eva! Eva!" My mates chanted as I sat on the parlor chair, flicking through tattoo designs. Sven was in on it too, chanting with my mates, while rubbing my shoulders. As if that would help ease the nerves.
