Downfall Read Online Evelyn Sola

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 132297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)

He thought he had his life figured out, but he had no idea.

Summer Madison is the opposite of everything Maxwell Sutton finds attractive in a woman. And yet, here he is, fighting powerful feelings for the new personal assistant his brother hired while he was out of town.
Everything about her is wrong, yet his thoughts are consumed with nothing but her. Determined to do anything he can to stay away from her, Maxwell develops a no fraternization clause to the company policy.
But rules and logic only last for so long.
When the attraction between the two of them becomes too much to contain, Maxwell finds himself violating the very policy that he put into effect. Now that he’s had a taste, he knows he can never say no to her again.




The scarf around my neck smacks me in the face. The wind is so strong, I’m barely able to get the door of the café to cooperate. I tug on it twice before it finally swings open and I step in, leaving the strong April wind behind.

It’s spring. It’s supposed to be warm, but Boston weather never cooperates. The only predictable thing about it is its unpredictability. It was seventy-five degrees yesterday. I spent my Sunday with my roommate and best friend, Delaney, discussing her upcoming wedding while sipping mimosas in her parents’ kitchen.

But like all good things, it came to an end and Monday slapped me back to reality. The temperature dropped forty degrees, bringing with it biting winds. I put a hand to my cold face and inhale the sweet smell of pastries and coffee.

“Fuck.” I hiss the word under my breath. I should have been at work five minutes ago, but my bed was too warm and comfy to bother with getting up on time. Besides, my job as a personal assistant in a marketing agency is not my life’s goal. It pays the bills, but my passion doesn’t involve scheduling flights and making coffee runs in the middle of the afternoon. Sadly, I don’t know where my heart lies, but I needed a job and when they recruited on the Boston University campus, it was a good fit. At least for now.

“Café latte, extra whipped cream,” I say when it’s my turn to order. “And a butter croissant.” What the hell? I’ll splurge and work out for an extra fifteen minutes tomorrow. You only live once, and these thighs and ass aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. I rub my hands over my hips. They’re not too bad, but I can curtsy lunge until I pass out and never end up with long, gazelle-like legs like the ones my roommate has.

“Summer!” The barista looks around, and I raise my hand. She smiles at me and hands me my drink and pastry. I brace myself for the wind and run to my ten-year-old Toyota Corolla. My parents surprised me with it when I graduated last May. The engine revs to life, and I drive through the quiet Boston streets until I get to the sleepy suburb of Canton and pull into the office parking lot.

“Mmhmm.” I shove the croissant in my mouth, eating half of it in one bite. With my mouth still full, I wash it down with my first sip of coffee. I finish the rest of the croissant while I cross the full parking lot, my high heels clicking against the pavement. That’s when I notice there are more cars than usual today, and I realize I’m later than I thought. Several businesses share the property, but our company takes the top two floors of the nine-story building.

By the time I jog inside the lobby and press the button for the elevator, I’m already twenty minutes late, but this is a laid-back company. It has been since the other partner lost his shit and left town. That’s what the rumors say, and there’s never a shortage of rumors at Sutton Marketing.

“Hold the elevator.” I stick my hand through the doors before they close, and they push open again. My friend Kevin Parker steps inside. He’s the only black guy who works here. He was one of the first friends I made when I started. In fact, he’s part of what I call our triad. It’s me, Kevin, and Olivia, the receptionist.

“Lunch later?” I ask him.

“Margarita Monday,” he confirms. Margarita Monday only happened once, and we did it because Olivia dared us. We have lunch together most days, but we make it a point to eat together every Monday. Instead of margaritas, it’s Margherita pizza. “Message me when it’s time to meet in the lobby. I have to tell you all about my weekend.”

I almost rub my hands together in anticipation. Kevin always has stories about his boyfriend and his ratchet mother. If Kevin wasn’t gay, he’d check all my boxes. Tall, black, handsome, and educated. My parents would love everything about him.