Rejecting My Secretly Toxic Ex Boss

Summary

I was dead broke, which is how I ended up taking a job as a professional punching bag.

Before I agreed to show up, I texted the broker, my fingers hovering hesitantly over the screen: Is his temper really that bad?

His reply was grim: It’s off the charts. Unhinged.

So, I showed up to the location armed with oversized sunglasses, a black face mask, and a baseball cap pulled low, fully prepared to get screamed at for cash.

Then I walked on set and saw the director. It was my gentle, kind-hearted, flawlessly perfect ex-boyfriend.