I’m standing smack in the center of his office when the silhouette of a tall man fills the doorway. The hard planes of his cheekbones give his gorgeous face a European elegance, but his unshaven jaw gives off the air of a rugged mountain man. And while he’s wearing a sleek black suit and burgundy-colored tie, there’s something about him—perhaps the way he’s standing with a ramrod straight back and a noticeable bulk in his arms—that tells me he is not a fine-suit man. He vibes ex-Marine or some other tough-guy type profession.
Our gazes lock, and it’s then that I notice his unusual light gray eyes. They’re stunning, and I can’t look away. Surprisingly, he seems equally mesmerized, because he’s just standing there with an odd expression.
Lust?
No. Not possible. Maybe he recognizes me, though that isn’t likely.
Abruptly, the moment shatters, and his expression shifts to a nasty scowl like he’s caught himself doing something he shouldn’t.
“What are you standing there looking at?” He shoves his cell phone in his pant pocket.
CONTENTS
About the Book
Praise for the OHellNO Series
Other Works by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
Upcoming Releases!
Excerpt Mr. Rook
Excerpt The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant
About the Author
PRAISE FOR THE OHELLNO SERIES
“This was a book that had me literally laughing out loud. More than once. Which is something I’ve come to expect from Mimi Jean Pamfiloff’s romantic comedies.”
—Sara, Harlequin Junkies, on SMART TASS
“What I love about this book is what I love about most of the books that I have read by this author. It is the witty banter, the snarky comments and the connection between the two main characters.”
—Three Chicks and Their Books, on SMART TASS
“I seriously LOVE Mimi Jean Pamfiloff’s talented writing style so much that I can add her to my addiction list.”
—Jennifer Person, The Power of Three Readers, on SMART TASS
OH HENRY. “This story was sexy and sweet, a dose of fun with the signature Mimi-snark.”
—Leigh, Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews
“Oh, Henry!!! It’s sweet, funny, and oh so sexy. A definite FIVE-STAR read that has the three H’s: HILARITY, HOTNESS, and HEART. The amazingly talented Ms. Pamfiloff has written your next book boyfriend, Henry Walton. Get ready to fall in love with this cocky unfiltered athlete and his quirky smartass match, Elle! You will love their banter and his quest to win her over.”
—Bestselling author of Until Alex, J. Nathan
“Mimi Jean Pamfiloff has topped even herself! Wonderful characters, some truly twisted events and some pretty awesome reading as two people learn to work as partners and trust in one another for support!”
—Tome Tender, on OH HENRY
“Oh Henry ratcheted everything up a notch. Still some sweet romance, some very funny situations, and a little bit of angst as both Elle and Henry are dealing with some serious issues. And, what would a Mimi Jean book be without one of her little added twists.”
—Carol’s Reviews
OTHER WORKS BY MIMI JEAN PAMFILOFF
COMING SOON!
Check (Part 3, Mr. Rook’s Island Series)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant, Book 2
THE ACCIDENTALLY YOURS SERIES
(Paranormal Romance/Humor)
Accidentally in Love with…a God? (Book 1)
Accidentally Married to…a Vampire? (Book 2)
Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? (Book 3)
Accidentally…Evil? (a Novella) (Book 3.5)
Vampires Need Not…Apply? (Book 4)
Accidentally…Cimil? (a Novella) (Book 4.5)
Accidentally…Over? (Series Finale) (Book 5)
THE FATE BOOK SERIES
(Standalones/New Adult Suspense/Humor)
Fate Book
Fate Book Two
THE FUGLY SERIES
(Standalones/Contemporary Romance)
fugly
it’s a fugly life
THE HAPPY PANTS SERIES
(Standalones/Romantic Comedy)
The Happy Pants Café (Prequel)
Tailored for Trouble (Book 1)
Leather Pants (Book 2)
Skinny Pants (Book 3)
IMMORTAL MATCHMAKERS, INC., SERIES
(Standalones/Paranormal/Humor)
The Immortal Matchmakers (Book 1)
Tommaso (Book 2)
God of Wine (Book 3)
The Goddess of Forgetfulness (Book 4)
THE KING SERIES
(Dark Fantasy)
King’s (Book 1)
King for a Day (Book 2)
King of Me (Book 3)
Mack (Book 4)
Ten Club (Series Finale, Book 5)
THE LIBRARIAN’S VAMPIRE ASSISTANT
(Mystery/Humor)
The Librarian’s Vampire Assistant (Book 1)
THE MERMEN TRILOGY
(Dark Fantasy)
Mermen (Book 1)
MerMadmen (Book 2)
MerCiless (Book 3)
MR. ROOK’S ISLAND SERIES
(Romantic Suspense)
Mr. Rook (Part 1)
Pawn (Part 2)
THE OHELLNO SERIES
(Standalones/New Adult/Romantic Comedy)
Smart Tass (Book 1)
Oh Henry (Book 2)
Digging A Hole (Book 3) <-You are here.
DIGGING A HOLE
The OHellNO Series
Book 3
Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
A Mimi Boutique Novel
Copyright © 2018 by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks are not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover Design by Earthly Charms (www.earthlycharms.com)
Creative Editing by Latoya C. Smith (lcsliterary.com)
Copy Editing and Proof Re
ading by Pauline Nolet (www.paulinenolet.com)
Formatting by bbebooksthailand.com
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DIGGING A HOLE
CHAPTER ONE
“I can’t believe it. Sydney Lucas is a bigger loser than me.” I groan as I talk into my cell and yank off my blonde wig from the safety of my bathroom.
“Uh-oh. I’m guessing the interview didn’t go so well?” says Abigail on the other end of the line. She’s been my best friend since middle school and is the only person on the planet who knows what I, the infamously shy Georgie Walton, have been up to these past two weeks: an epic scandal in the making.
If I ever get caught.
Which I won’t.
“You guessed correctly. The interview was a disaster.” I sigh and turn away from my annoying reflection in the mirror, planting my ass on the marble counter. “I literally threw up on the woman’s shoes.”
“No. You didn’t.” Abi sounds like she’s going to laugh but holds back. She’s a good friend. She’s also a down-to-earth and timid-as-hell brunette like me. Only, I’ve been living a double life lately, thus the crazy blonde wig and hipster glasses.
“Did,” I say. “I had oatmeal for breakfast, too. It was a sticky mess—complete with theatrical heaving.”
“Wow, girl,” says Abi. “You’ve really upped your game; you only got nauseous at the last nine interviews.”
“Well, ten must be my lucky number, because after I heaved, I was so embarrassed, I nearly passed out, which then made me more humiliated so I just ran from the room crying. Which is why I’m done.”
“No. You can’t quit, Georgie. This is too important, and if you give up now, you’ll never believe you can stand on your own two feet.”
At this point, you might be asking if I’m mental, and maybe I am; however, the root of the problem comes down to one thing. I am deathly shy and have been since the age of five. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment it started, but I’m fairly sure it began when I realized my family wasn’t your everyday American family. I remember going out with my mother one day and being followed by dozens of news trucks. “Georgie,” my mom said, “always be on your guard. They’re watching.”
“Who, Mommy?” I’d asked.
“Everyone.”
From that moment on, I’ve always felt claustrophobic, enclosed in some musty, dark closet, the cold walls suffocating me, making it harder and harder to breathe. That closet is the world. Yep. I’m totally mental.
“I don’t know, Abi,” I say, “I thought I could pull this off, yanno? But no matter what I do, I can’t get through a goddamned interview.” And if I can’t do that, then what’s the point of my life? To be a freakishly awkward woman-child who has to rely on her siblings?
No.
This is my life.
And getting a job is my chance to change how my family sees me—the timid, incapable twenty-one-year-old baby of our family who will never do anything more than stand in a shadowy corner, hiding from the world.
I know I am more than that. However, the words I think aren’t backed up with action, and every time I fail, my self-worth drops a notch. This moment is do or die. It’s win or lose. It’s my coming to Jesus.
Ugh. Only, I just threw up on his sandals. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
“I’m done, Abi. I thought pretending to be someone else would take off the pressure of being a Walton, but Sydney Lucas is just as bad at dealing with people as I am.”
Abi sighs on the other end of the phone. “Georgie, please don’t give up. You can land an internship. I know you can.”
“With who? I’ve tried every company with business internships in the Houston area.”
“Another position just opened up at PVP. You could work with me.”
My brother is actually the person who recommended Abi for the role. Palo Verde Pharmaceuticals is a multibillion-dollar company owned by my family and is ironically tied to the reason that I absolutely must stand on my own two feet. Simply put, my family’s billions in assets are in the midst of an ugly and very public legal battle. Okay. Let me rephrase. My siblings and I are suing my father for control of Walton Holdings, which owns twenty large companies.
Yep. You heard me right. It’s a kiddie coup. Only, we’re not kids and it has nothing to do with greed, but everything to do with money. Yeah. It’s complicated. Take the IRS tax code, triple that, and you’d have my situation.
Nevertheless, we cannot fail, which means it’s up to my siblings to win, and they must demonstrate the companies are in good hands if we run them. Sadly, we’re shorthanded of people we can trust. Every executive, government agency, greedy lawyer, vulture, and thief in a suit is trying to angle their way into this mess, hoping to influence the outcome and benefit their own interests. Bottom line: Oil is a big business. And my family is the oil business. In fact, we’re Texas oil, which makes us even bigger in our Texan minds. But it’s why I must step in and help. Running twenty companies is just too massive for my brother, sisters, and sister-in-law.
First things first, however; I have to show my older siblings that I’m capable so they’ll let me work in the family company.
“So how ’bout it?” Abi pushes. “Not like any of the employees will ever recognize you. You’ve never had anything to do with the operations, and most people only know your father and brother.”
I give it a little thought. Maybe she’s right. My father is the titan of Walton Holdings, so it’s mostly his face people associate with our family, followed by my brother, Henry, who’s all over the TV and sports magazines because he’s an up-and-coming NFL superstar. But more than that, he’s been given temporary control of my family’s companies during this time of crisis. Well, really, it’s him and his super-genius wife, Elle, who is the sweetest, nerdiest girl I’ve ever met. If you took a tele-transporter that was fueled by puppy breath and baby giggles, that would be Elle. Smart, cute, and amazingly compassionate.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I think at least the executives might recognize me. My dad usually has our family photo in the back of their annual company reports.”
“Which nobody looks at,” Abi argues. “Plus you’re such a hermit that any pictures of you floating around are obscured by your long brown hair, which you’re going to dye blonde and pull out of your face.”
“What about my wig and glasses?” I ask.
“Drop it. They look crazy suspicious—like a cross between Waldo and a floor mop.”
“Now you tell me.” I’ve gone on ten interviews with my “golden curls of seduction” wig and chunky glasses, hoping to look more outgoing and cool.
“I didn’t want to discourage you, but now I’m encouraging you; PVP is the perfect solution.”
Interning at a company I partially own? It sounds like a PR disaster waiting to happen. “I think I’ll keep looking.”
“Georgie, the final interviews are tomorrow.”
“And?” I ask.
“And let’s pretend you look for something else. Maybe you look for two or three more weeks and you still come up empty-handed. This position will be gone.”
“Abi, you’re not the hiring manager, so it’s not like you can just give me the job.”
“True. But I can put in a good word with Rebecca, my boss, and she can mention my praise to Nick Brooks.”
“Who’s that?” Not that it matters. I’m not changing my mind.
“The hiring manager. He’s the new VP of sales, a genius, and the devil incarnate. The worst human being I’ve ever—”
“Such a selling point. Passing,” I sing.
“You didn’t let me finish. He may be the biggest a-hole to ever walk the planet, but anyone who works for him is deemed an instant god—sky’s the limit for their future. I even heard that the team from his o
ld job are all VPs at different companies now.”
An image of my father instantly comes to mind. He’s such an epic bastard that merely working for him and surviving is almost the equivalent of having a Harvard degree when it comes to résumés. Not that my father ever dreamed of allowing his children to attend such a “despicable” school in a place that isn’t Texas. “Texas made us who we are, and over my dead body will my children attend a university in some other state. It’s our obligation as Waltons to show pride in our institutions.”
Now, before anyone runs off thinking that he can’t be all that bad for his loyalty and love of state, let me translate what he really means: “We’re as rich as sin and more powerful than God because we have every politician, judge, and state agency in our pocket. We wouldn’t want to ruffle feathers by appearing unsupportive of our fine universities.” He expects us to play our public part because being a Walton is all about power. And keeping it. It also means that convincing a jury of my father’s mental incompetence will be impossible. Impossifuckingble. He’s got way too many allies. Still, we have to try. The alternative is losing everything to an insane yoga cult.
Yoga.
Cult.
There, I said it.
Yes, yes. #WTAF. What the almighty fuck? I’ll get to yoga-cult-explaining in a moment, but right now I’ve got to make a big choice.
“So this VP,” I ask, “how good is he?”
“If a Häagen-Dazs ice cream bar fucked a Twinkie and they had a baby, then you deep-fried that baby in donut batter and rolled it in a mixture of rainbow sprinkles and winning lotto tickets, you’d have Nick Brooks.”
“He sounds fattening.”
“Ohellno. He doesn’t sleep, and he expects his team to be equally immortal. You’ll drop ten pounds on the first day. We’ve already seen a thirty percent bump in sales, and he’s only been with the company a few months.”
Hmm… I’m starting to like the idea. I mean, my family’s companies—whether it’s oil, renewable energy, or pharma—depend on sales. So working for a big sales VP would not only prove I’m more than just a shy little girl incapable of contributing anything to this world, but I might learn something useful to help my family. But how the hell will I survive the interview?
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