Expected Spring 2027
A spicy office romcom with revenge on the side
Grief took Sindie Carpenter to London. Desperation made her take a job at Archimedes Capital Management. Alcohol wasn’t entirely responsible for the wild night she spent with her boss, but it certainly helped.
After her mother’s death, Sindie Carpenter puts her dreams on hold to raise her younger sister, trading university lectures for long days as an executive assistant at the ruthless hedge fund, Archimedes Capital Management. The workload is heavy, the stakes are high, and her new boss is as infuriating as he is devastatingly handsome.
But beneath the pressure-cooker atmosphere of the City, Sindie discovers something even more tempting: a chance to get revenge on the father who abandoned her when the family needed him most.
With help from a tight-knit group of colleagues, Sindie begins piecing together the clues that could finally settle the score. The only complication? Falling for Felix was never part of the plan—and neither was risking both their careers under the firm’s strict no-fraternisation policy.
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*UNEDITED* Sneak Peek…
The door opened, and a sweaty blond guy paused to study the crack in the frosted glass for a moment, then ambled in, his hair mussed from a cycle helmet. He stopped in front of my desk, which was unfortunate because he was wearing tight Lycra leggings that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. I snapped my gaze up to his face in time to see his brow furrow.
“Did I miss something? Is it ‘take your kid to work’ day? Are you in the right place? Because I don’t think we signed up for this.”
My cheeks burned. Okay, yes, I was technically wearing a school uniform, but I was also twenty-two years old. Last month, I’d successfully bought a bottle of wine in the supermarket without being carded.
“Hi! I’m the new executive assistant here at Archimedes.”
His eyes widened. “Are you serious? Who hired you?”
“Cash Clementi.”
“Oh, man. He’s gonna die for this.” Salami Guy offered a hand. “Rich Vandenburg. I’m one of the analysts.”
I nodded as if I knew what that meant. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Lucinda, but most people call me Sindie.”
Laughter wasn’t the reaction I’d expected, but it was better than the yelling Wendy had prepared me for. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Felix is fucked.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I said I wish you good luck.”
“Uh, thank you. I don’t suppose you know the password for this computer? Or where I might find it?”
“Try ‘Arberysucks!’ Capital A, exclamation mark at the end, Arbery spelled A-R-B-E-R-Y. I don’t know if the last girl changed it.”
Rich disappeared before I finished typing, and the machine beeped a warning. No dice. I checked the desk drawers and found three packets of paracetamol, a stash of promotional lollipops, spare tights, a selection of pens, and a notepad. When I flipped to the first page, someone had written “Arbery is a dick” twenty times over in neat block capitals. I tried that as the password, just in case. Still a big fat nope.
The elevator dinged again, and I steeled myself. This time, it was an Asian lady whose age was a question mark. Her skin said early thirties, but her jaded expression suggested she could closer to fifty.
“Hi, are you Ming-Yue?”
“Who are you?” Uh-oh. She sounded angry, and I’d barely uttered a sentence.
“I’m Sindie, the new executive assistant?”
“Who hired you?”
“Cash Clementi. My interview was this morning.”
“You stay here.”
She stomped over to Cash’s office and walked in without knocking. The door closed behind her. There was some muffled yelling, and then she marched back in my direction.
“If the phone rings, you answer it. Write this down.” She paused while I grabbed a pen. “If the message is about operations or IT, you send it to me. If it’s about finance, you send it to Felix. If it’s from an investor or the media, you send it to Cash. Anything else, you tell them to go away.”
“Uh…go away?”
“Yes. But nicely.” She gave me a smile that was a little terrifying. “And with emails that come to the general enquiries account, you do the same.”
“Okay, I understand.” But that wouldn’t take up my whole day. “What else?”
“The analysts will ask you to make travel arrangements. Our agent is Navco—call them and ask for Harvinder. You need to make sure any visas and vaccinations are obtained.”
I scribbled frantically on a fresh page in the notebook. “Visas and vaccinations, got it.”
“Felix will go over the finance side when he arrives.” Ming-Yue checked her watch. “Always late.”
“Cash mentioned coffee—do you know how he takes it?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No?”
“Then that’s his problem. You serve it however you want, and he will enjoy it.” She made it sound like a threat. Enjoy the coffee or else. “We also have rules. No drugs, no musical instruments, no yoga in the office, and absolutely no fraternisation. You understand?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Who the heck would bring a musical instrument to work? “Do you know the password for the computer?”
“Try ‘arberyisamassivearsehole666,’ all lowercase.”
Phew, that worked. But who was Arbery, and why did everyone hate him so much? The sparse desktop showed the company’s logo—its name with a stylised A that I recognised from Archimedes’s Quadrature of the Parabola. I clicked on the email app, but before I could read any messages, the door opened again, and a giant walked in. Okay, not an actual giant, but he was almost a foot taller than me, and he looked like an advert for protein shakes. He stopped in front of my desk, and boy, if he tensed any harder, he’d be in danger of hulking right out of that shirt.
“Good morning!” I said brightly.
He sucked in a breath. Closed his eyes for a moment. Opened them again.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
CONTENT WARNINGS
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