From Ugly Duckling To Mrs Livingston: The Perfect Candidate

"THIS IS BLOODY MADNESS!" snapped Maximus, adjusting his tie, and then he checked the time on his highly expensive watch.

"Lower your voice, Maximus, it's the best I could get. Many of my acquaintances have been in the same situation as you," said his best friend and assistant Hector, who is his accomplice in everything. They had known each other since they were 10 years old. "You'll see that in a few days you'll have a submissive, beautiful wife with great curves and breasts. You'll have a child, you get a divorce leaving her a large sum of money and that's it, everyone is satisfied. You must sacrifice yourself for the family, you can't lose your position over something that simple."

"That's what you think!" Maximus was about to say something else when the boss opened the door, so the men fell silent. Meanwhile, Rosie felt like she was running out of air; she felt like she was returning to the past, to that bitter memory that changed her completely.

"Rosie, Rosie?!" her boss mentioned her, and the girl snapped out of her thoughts. Her back was turned, so she swallowed hard. She had been avoiding being in front of Maximus for years because she was left hurt and with a thorn in her heart full of resentment over his words of rejection back then.

"Yes?" she asked and clenched her jaw.

"Meet Mr. Livingston, the CEO of Livingston Aurea Fashion, New York's most sought-after businessman. He requires our services, which is a great honor for me, sir, to have you in my company Hadas del Amor. Rosie is the best, which is why I'm assigning her to you. She will fulfill everything you look for in a wife."

When Rosie heard that, she arched an eyebrow. She literally refused to look at him. It was like going back to the past. All she wanted was to hit him in the head with her heel for being rude, for that humiliation and rejection. But she thought that perhaps he didn't remember her; after all, she had always gone unnoticed by others.

"Rosie..." her boss mentioned between her teeth, so the girl with jeweled green eyes had no choice but to turn around and look seriously, taking things very seriously after all it was her job.

As soon as she saw him, her heart raced. It was him, handsome and well-dressed as always, though with that same cold temperament. Meanwhile, Maximus frowned slightly; the color of Rosie's eyes was captivating.

"A pleasure, Mr. Livingston," she did not extend her hand to greet him. "I promise you will have the wife of your dreams," she spoke with sarcasm, one that Maximus perceived instantly, as he was the king of sarcasm.

"Well... we'll leave you two alone," Hector said to leave with Scarlett. They had known each other for a long time and wanted to be alone.

Rosie prepared to take out her planner and her lilac-colored pen.

"Mr. Livingston, I want you to know that I take my job seriously. My boss told me the pay will be good, so I feel this job is simple for me."

"Do you know who you are addressing with that attitude?" Maximus took the opportunity to look her up and down. Rosie is 1.65, her hair is natural blonde, and her lips are thick and provocative; however, her attire was somewhat repulsive to a man like him, for whom fashion was his whole world.

"Of course! New York's most eligible bachelor whom all the girls sigh for!" she spoke with a certain mockery and proceeded to look at her notebook. Maximus's gaze made her nervous, even though she hid it perfectly. "Any important details you want in your future wife?"

Maximus threw her a piercing glare. She didn't look at him like the other women; otherwise, she should be happy and melting to work for him. But it seemed she didn't care who Maximus Livingston was.

"Do you have a bloody problem?" he asked seriously.

"Not at all, sir," she replied, making fake notes in her notebook.

"Your attitude leaves a lot to be desired. I could say with certainty that you want to tell me something else..." he narrowed his eyes slightly; he was analyzing her.

"The only thing I have to say," she looked up to lock eyes with him, and the atmosphere between them grew somewhat tense, which felt utterly bizarre, "is that it is obvious... you are looking for a wife with big curves, a large chest, perfect hair, and fashionable clothes, aren't you? Don't worry, Mr. Livingston, I will have options for you tomorrow. Anything else?" She held his gaze, literally defying him.

Maximus clenched his jaw. This was the first woman in his existence who addressed him as if he were nobody. The way she looked at him, spoke to him, and tried to take control made his anger flare.

"Do you think you know me well enough to say that?" He crossed his arms.

"I am a professional matchmaker, and whenever I am assigned a client, I study them. Although you... your reputation speaks for itself through the women you frequently go out with, whom the paparazzi capture as the highlight of the day."

"Let me tell you, Miss..."

"Harper," she added upon seeing him hesitate.

"Right, Harper. You can be as much of a professional matchmaker as you say, but I will not tolerate your behavior, so you are fired." Having said that, he turned around to leave.

Rosie's eyes widened. She was about to let go of the man who had mocked her years ago, but also her financial salvation and perhaps that promotion she so desperately wanted.