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The Whole Package

The Whole Package

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐31+ 5-Star Reviews

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A secret admirer, an unlikely fling with a co-worker, and a betrayal that hits far too close to home.



Main Tropes

  • Office Romance
  • Secret Relationship
  • Secret Admirer


A secret admirer, an unlikely fling with a co-worker, and a betrayal that hits far too close to home.


Jane Leads is navigating her new job as CEO of her mother's company, Leads Energy, and that leaves her zero time for a man.


But when a mysterious note shows up on her desk containing a handwritten love poem, things start to shift.


Striking an unlikely — albeit addictive —friendship with the mailman, she asks for his help in discovering who her secret admirer is. What she doesn’t expect is to fall for him, too.



Warren Blake wouldn't necessarily consider himself a starving artist, but he does need to pay his bills.


Working as the mailman at the Leads Energy building isn't exactly where he envisions himself working, but it gets the rent paid. The perk? His beyond gorgeous and amazingly kind boss.


Meeting Jane changes everything. He’s not only struck by her beauty, but her wit, smarts, and fun loving attitude, as well.


When she enlists him with the task of helping her find her secret admirer, he hesitates, because what she’s asking him to do, is help her find him...

Intro Into Chapter One



“And if love be madness, may I never find sanity again.”



“So, you’re like the mailman, then?” my buddy Derek asks from the barstool next to me.

The bar where we are is our go-to place to hang out and get the best local brews.

I come here because I like the atmosphere. The dark wood floor, the gleaming bar, the sports paraphernalia that covers the walls, I love every bit of it.

Derek and the rest of our friends frequent this place because of the pretty girls who tend to always be working here. We’ve never met the manager, but I’m pretty sure it’s a woman as well. I’ve only ever seen men working security, but not working the bar or running the tables.

“I work in the mail room, yes. But now I get to do extra deliveries on the higher-up floors,” I confirm, referring to the job I landed at Leads Energy a few weeks back. It was nice to have a job that offered things like health insurance and dental, plus a steady paycheck never hurt. It wasn’t the art that I wanted to make a living off of, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and I was begging to pay for things like food and rent.

“Why though?” he asks, taking a sip from the blonde port that he preferred. I was a dark beer type myself.

“Because it’s my job, dude,” I reply, exasperated. Derek had a heart of gold but sometimes his “help” or questions could become exhaustingly grating.

“Right, but what about a job doing like… art?”

I slowly turn to face him, my brow lifting at his question.

“What?” he asks with a shrug.

“Doing ‘art’?”

He waves his hand at me and scoffs. “You know what I mean. You’re the artsy guy!” He emphasizes this by throwing a hand up. “You should be doing that.”

I sigh, feeling my lips twitch. If nothing else, Derek is supportive. “I will. Eventually. But it’s not so easy as just applying for it.”

As an artist, I was shy about wanting to put my work out there. I wanted to do it for a living, but I couldn’t just throw it up online or on a wall somewhere and be successful. You had to get the right in, had to push and work your ass off twenty-four seven. I wasn’t opposed to working hard, but it was a challenge to figure out what thing would actually sell when the time came. What markets were advertising, what were people buying, what was “trending.” The true artist in me shuddered at the thought of succumbing to things such as trends.

Art was meant to speak to people, it was meant to provoke thought and inspire. Art is supposed to do the talking, not the listening.

“Well, hopefully this job will just be a stepping-stone,” he remarks and taps his beer to mine.

I hoped so, too.

Working in the Leads Building was pretty cool. Their reputation was good, their employees treated everyone fairly and the CEO had been good to the employees, if not a little standoffish. At least, that’s what I’d heard. I heard last Christmas they’d been giving bonuses of one extra paycheck. I was surprised and intrigued. It certainly made for a happy employee to be handing out bonuses like that.

At twenty-nine, I was ready to start taking my life a little more seriously, putting my art out for people to see, making my poetry available for purchase and really start building this career I’d always wanted.

Derek and I pay our tabs and walk back home. Being just after Valentine’s Day, the March air was bitter cold. I couldn’t wait for the sunny days ahead.

We head into our building and up to the elevator. Me, Derek, and three of our other friends shared a giant loft, though I wished we didn’t. We were basically on top of each other here and I was more than ready for my roommate days to be over.

I mostly just keep to myself. We all do our best to keep the place clean, and for the most part, we all work enough that we don’t see each other or are in each other’s way too often. 

Derek, Archer, and I work fairly normal hours. But Enzo, who was a sous-chef downtown, worked mostly nights and weekends. Garrett was a mechanic and something of a computer genius, he worked during the day at a garage and at night doing… something with computers, I guess.

I say good night to everyone lingering in the living room and lock myself in my room.

Looking around at the art and the papers littering my desk, I let out a bone-weary sigh and lie back on my bed.

I lacked inspiration lately. I wasn’t sure what I needed to do to kick it back into gear. I needed a muse. Something that would inspire me to write or create something new and awe inspiring.

No pressure, right?

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