An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance.
After the death of her husband, Daisy Casillas is lost, desperately trying to repair the wreckage that has now become her life. In need of a job and money to stay afloat, her best friend suggests a position no one in New York is willing to take.
Callan Reed’s executive assistant.
The man is a tyrant.
Incredibly rude.
Notoriously arrogant.
Strikingly handsome.
And as fate would have it, her former childhood best friend.
Daisy promised herself she’d never speak to the man again after the destruction of their friendship years ago, but she’s desperate. Desperate enough to withstand his cold glares, to follow his impossible tasks to a T, and endure his ridiculous demands.
The hate and animosity they have for each other is real. The barbs they shoot at each other in the office are effective and all too spiteful. But Daisy is willing to risk it all, even if it means another shattered heart.
What ensues between them is a chain of events that unravels the secrets in Daisy’s already imperfect life. While struggling to rebuild everything that has crashed around her, Daisy finds herself falling into old habits with Callan. Only this time, she hopes her heart will survive the wreckage. If there’s nothing left of the organ, there’s no heart left to break, right?
The Seasons of Callan Reed is a full-length second chance office romance with a guaranteed HEA. At the end, I’ve included an excerpt from Hate Thy Neighbor, an enemies-to-lovers standalone romance.
The Seasons of Callan Reed concludes at around 90% on your device.
Happy Reading!
XO, S.M. Soto
THE CHAOS SERIES
Deception and Chaos
Blood and Chaos
Love and Chaos
THE SAN DIEGAN SERIES
Scoring the Quarterback
Damaged Heart
THE TWIN LIES DUET
Kiss Me with Lies
Bury Me with Lies
STANDALONE TITLES
Chasing the Moon: A Second Chance Romance
Hate Thy Neighbor: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance
Ache: A Second Chance Romance
A Cruel Love: A Dark Enemies-to-Lovers Romance
COMING SOON
Jake Wilder: A Fake Fiancé Novel
The Consequence of Hating You
Redemption and Chaos
Corruption and Chaos
Muerte and Chaos
Spotify
Seasons—6LACK, Khalid
Hurt You—The Weeknd ft. Gesaffelstein
Say Something—A Great Big World
None Of Your Concern—Jhené Aiko ft. Big Sean
Back To December—Taylor Swift
What You Did—Mahalia ft. Ella Mai
Ocean—Karol G ft. Jessie Reyez
Doing It Wrong—Drake
Better Not—Louis The Child ft. Wafia
Thinking Out Loud—Ed Sheeran
Crowded Room—Selena Gomez ft. 6LACK
Back Home—Trey Songz ft. Summer Walker
I Like Me Better—Lauv
Undressed—Merges
Ends of the Earth—Lord Huron
Come & Go—Juice WRLD, Marshmello
Lights Down Low—MAX
Take You Back—Russ ft. Kehlani
What About Love—BANKS
Calling—QUIN
Meet me in the middle of your story when the soul is worn but wise.—Angie Weiland-Crosby
For all the readers who like their men mean.
This one’s for you.
Do you ever wonder where rock bottom is? Where it truly lies? I think it’s here in this soul-crushing moment. Just three months ago, I had a normal life. Or what I thought was a normal life.
A loving husband.
A happy marriage.
Yet all of that evaporated within seconds.
Two calls are all it took to ruin my life—one to blow me over and the other to kick me while I was down. I know rock bottom intimately. Chances are, I’ll spend the rest of my life living here.
“Oh, sweetie.”
My eyes spring open at hearing the familiar voice. A sob rips through my chest when I spot my best friend, Rosalind, kneeling in the corner of the funeral home, right next to me.
“I can’t do this, Rose. I can’t,” I cry as she wraps me in her arms. I bask in the comfort of her familiarity. It’s the only thing I have going for me these days.
“I know, babe. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. Got me?”
For what feels like the hundredth time since I got that first phone call, I burst into tears. It’s been happening often. I think I have a hold on my emotions, but all it takes is one small thought, one single smell, one tiny thing and my entire world shatters around me again.
After my mother’s death, I never thought I’d have to deal with the grief of losing someone I loved so soon. Dean handled her funeral arrangements for me because my father and I were too much of a mess. And that was my husband, the fixer. He fixed things and made them better. For a while.
And now here I am, burying him.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. We were separated, and in the process of getting a divorce, but the circumstances are unforgettable. Unforgiveable.
Not only am I losing my husband of nine years, but I’m also burying my cousin, Skylar—his mistress. Because as the universe would have it, killing my mother, letting my husband have an affair, and then getting another woman pregnant are all perfectly acceptable. I have no one left to be angry with. No one to kick and scream at.
All that I’m truly left with is pain.
And their baby.
Past
“Daisy.”
“Daisy Elise Casillas, are you even listening to me?” My best friend Rosalind’s voice pierces through my thoughts. It’s a struggle to peel my gaze away from the window and the sight I’ve fixated on for the past hour or so.
Down below her window, out in the driveway, is the object of my fixation and every single fantasy. Callan Reed. It might seem premature to say I’m in love with Callan. I mean, hell, I’m only fifteen. What do I know about love and relationships? But the fact of the matter is, I am in love with him—I’m sure of it. I have been since the moment I became best friends with his little sister.
I fell in love with Callan when he taught me how to ride a bike, swim in a filthy lake, throw a punch, and most importantly, when he taught me how to kiss. Though Rose doesn’t know about that last one, and chances are, she never will. She’s likely to lose her shit if she finds out.
How horrible of a friend does that make me to be in love with my best friend’s older brother? Because sometimes, I feel that way. I feel like the scum of the earth. The shittiest friend on the planet. Like right now. Rosalind has been telling a story for the past thirty minutes, and instead of listening, I’ve been staring out her window, watching him shoot hoops in the driveway. Even from the second story, I can see the sweat glistening on his bronzed skin. It’s like crystals you can’t look away from. With each dribble and layup, the muscles in his back flex, the sinews tightening, and my mouth grows dry. Swarms of butterflies fill my stomach and my chest with a tightness that makes it hard to breathe.