Title: On The Corner Of Love And Hate

by Nina Bocci




Publication Date: August 20, 2019

Publisher: Gallery Books

Genre: Contemporary Romance, Chick-Lit, Adult, Women's Romance Fiction




What’s a campaign manager’s worst nightmare? A smooth-talking charmer who’s never met a scandal that he didn’t like.

When Emmanuelle Peroni’s father—and mayor of her town—asks her to help rehab Cooper Endicott’s image, she’s horrified. Cooper drives her crazy in every way possible. But he’s also her father’s protégé, and she can’t say no to him without him finding out the reason why: Cooper and her have a messy past. So Emmanuelle reluctantly launches her father’s grand plan to get this Casanova someone to settle down with and help him lose his lothario reputation.

Cooper Endicott wanted to run for Mayor, but he never wanted the drama that went with it. Now that he’s on the political hamster wheel, the other candidates are digging up everythingfrom his past. Even though he’s doing all the right things, his colorful love life is the sticking point for many of the conservative voters. He wants to win, badly, and he knows that if he wants any chance of getting a vote from the female population, he needs to change his image. The only problem? He might just be falling in love with the one person he promised not to pursue: the Mayor’s off-limits daughter.

A perfect blend of humor and heart, On the Corner of Love and Hateis the first in a new series from USA TODAY bestselling author Nina Bocci.


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Chapter 1


Thud. Whoosh. Slap.


Thud. Whoosh. Slap.


The trio of irksome sounds repeated another half-dozen times.

My eyes darted upward, a silent prayer falling from my lips.

Dear God, please give me the strength not to shove that tennis

ball somewhere that would require surgery. Amen.


My coworker casually leaned back in his chair, his long legs outstretched

and crossed at the ankles on the shiny surface of the conference

room table. Beneath his brown leather loafers sat a report.

His unfinished-yet-due-tomorrow report.


I marveled at his ability to multitask. It would have been more

appropriate if he had been, say, working. Instead, he was tossing a

ball against the conference room wall with one hand while texting

with the other. Even though he didn’t take his eyes off his phone

screen, he caught the ball every single time. If I hadn’t been so

annoyed, I would have actually been impressed.


The clock ticked against the pale yellow wall above his head.

With each passing tick, the ball struck with a thwack to its right.


“Cooper, could you please stop?” I finally said, rubbing my

temples to ease the headache that was forming.


Thud. Whoosh. Slap.


“Cooper,” I repeated, glancing up from my laptop. “Hello?”


Thud, whoosh, slap was the only response I got.


Sliding back my chair, I stood up and walked around the long

maple conference table. It was only when I got close enough to

see the scantily clad woman in his text window that I noticed the

wireless earbuds that were blasting music into his ears. As the

ball left his hand, I touched his shoulder.


Startled, he lost his grip on the ball, sending it sailing behind

him. “What’s up?” he sputtered, quickly pulling his earbuds out. I

didn’t miss his hand sliding his phone into his pocket. He looked

every bit like a teenager caught red-handed by the principal.


“Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed. “You’ve had music on this

entire time? I read nearly two pages of the brewery expansion

proposal out loud to you twenty minutes ago!”


At least he had the decency to look remorseful. “I thought you

were talking to yourself, so I”—he motioned to the black Beats—“

figured I’d give you your privacy while I caught up on work.”


My eyebrows must have reached my hairline, because with a

mildly guilty expression he pulled his legs down from the table.

I snorted. “Yes, I start all sentences with, ‘Cooper, what do you

think about’ when I’m talking to myself. Were you just smiling

and nodding for my health?” 


Shifting in his seat, he straightened.


I huffed.


The small laugh lines around his mouth became more pronounced,

an indication that he was fighting back a smile. “Emmanuelle,”

he purred smoothly.


“Don’t Emmanuelle me,” I clapped back. “That tone may work

on your fan club, but not me.”


He held his arms up in a defensive position. “Okay, okay, I’m

sorry. What did I miss?” He grabbed for the papers in my hand.


Holding them back against my chest, I scowled. “Hope Lake

Brewing Company. Expansion. Asking for input before it goes to

the town council for approval.”


He whistled and rocked back in his chair. “Council is going

to reject anything that comes across their desk from them. They

hate the ‘vibe’ the brew house brings, and the addition would

make the council’s heads explode.”


I nodded. “Yep, which is why the guys asked us for help. To

try and edit the proposal to appeal to them. It’s also why I booked

us the conference room for this meeting that you just Tindered

your way through.”


“That’s not a word, and I wasn’t—” he began, patting his pocket

absently. Probably making sure the evidence was tucked away



I held up my hand. “Save it. I don’t care what or who you’re

doing. Just that you’re not paying attention. Again.”


When the owners of HLBC, Drew and Luke Griffin, first

came to our department, Cooper and I had championed their

proposal to build a brewing company, tasting room, and outdoor

entertainment space just along the lakefront. It was one of the

first projects Cooper and I had worked on together, and it was just

what we’d needed in town back then—a fun, innovative business

that catered to every age. Now, six years later, HLBC was one of

Hope Lake’s most popular spots, and the brothers were looking to

expand their space to include rooms for private events and a small

restaurant. Cooper and I were supposed to be discussing how to

approach the town council about it.


Looked like I’d just been talking to myself instead. “I’m going

back to my office, where I can work in peace,” I said. Exasperated,


I started gathering up my stuff.


After a few seconds of awkward silence, he cleared his throat.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s go over it. Again.”


I stacked my files, feeling my blood starting to boil. Having

to repeat myself irked me, but I needed his input whether I liked

it or not.


Glancing up, I noticed Cooper readying to say something else

when our shared assistant, Nancy, hurried in with the main office

calendar and a fistful of Sharpies clutched in her hand.


“I’ve been searching for you two everywhere,” she said, looking

wide-eyed at each of us in turn. The conference table, at least on

my side, was covered in charts, graphs, and photos of the lakefront.

On Cooper’s side—well, there was a lot of polished maple



“Did you discuss the project?” she asked hopefully, her face

falling when I shook my head. “Okay, well, I guess you’ll handle

that, uh, later. I’m sure.” She gave me a look. “I hope,” she mouthed,

then cleared her throat and pulled out the head chair of the conference

table and sat down with the main office calendar in front of

her. “It’s time for the afternoon rundown—are you ready?”


Cooper groaned. Not at Nancy but at the calendar she had

opened. It had been on my desk this morning when I’d filled it with

upcoming appointments and meetings. By the looks of it, Nancy

had managed to fill almost every empty space that remained.

We kept it old school at our office. Instead of using Google

calendar or iCal, we used a large paper desk calendar with a

color-coded legend, labels, and tabs to keep our government office

running like clockwork. It’s not as though we hadn’t tried to

modernize, but some of the, ahem, older department staff were

frosty toward change.


Nancy, Cooper, and I worked at the Hope Lake Community

Development Office on the top floor of Borough Building. In a

small town like Hope Lake, my department was sort of the home

base for everything. From simple things such as parade permits to

more detailed ventures—for example, helping to secure funding

for business owners like HLBC—the CDO, as we tended to call

it, had its hand in pretty much everything. It wasn’t big, but what

we lacked in size and staff we made up for in energy and results.


“The upcoming week is brutal,” Nancy apologized, looking at

Cooper, who, not surprisingly, was on his phone again. “Emma,

I’m afraid you’re a bit overscheduled.” She tapped a Sharpie on

the table.


I waved a dismissive hand. “It can’t be any worse than that

week the staff came down with the flu.” I had practically run the

office that week even though I was heavily medicated myself.


“It’s close.” She held up two fingers barely an inch apart.


“You’re back-to-back Monday. There is a pocket of time during

the event this weekend with the future Mr. Mayor here and his



Cooper perked up then. He knocked twice on the wooden table. “Don’t jinx me.”


Oh, sure, you’re paying attention now.


“You’re a shoo-in. People love you, Cooper. And with the mayor

already behind you, how can you not be?” Nancy assured him.


Nancy wasn’t blowing smoke. Cooper had decided to run for

office this year, and his magnetic personality made him the perfect

political candidate. He was brilliant, liked by the majority

of the town, and had confidence to spare because he knew he

was the best choice for the job. Even I could admit that, and we

were often at odds.


“Emma, I know you wanted to have a sit-down with Drew and

Luke from the brewing company about the proposed expansion

before they go to the council, but I don’t see how it’s going to



Nancy jotted a note onto the calendar. Over the years, we’d

gotten our system down to a science: orange for me, blue for

Cooper, hot pink for our department administrative assistant,

green for Nancy, and red for the mayor, because red was my

dad’s favorite color. Blue, not surprisingly, was the color least visible

on the entire calendar. It was sporadically used, even from

my vantage point, which meant that Cooper had a light schedule

this week.




I chewed the pen cap, irritated. Nancy continued reading off

meeting after meeting throughout the week.


“These two on Thursday—I can probably sit in on them to

give you a break, Emma,” she offered.


Looking over Nancy’s shoulder, I marveled at the Technicolor

scheduling system. It might have been old-fashioned, but at least

it looked good.


Shaking my head, I pointed at the partially torn yellow Post-it

stuck on the edge of the frame. That was how my father added

mayoral meetings to the calendar. Stickies. He was nothing if not

professional. “No can do, my friend. You’re going to be at a ribbon

cutting with Mayor Dad.”


She looked up, her lips a thin, flat line. “I am? He didn’t tell me.”

Sighing, she jotted the information down. “I wish he’d told me

I was supposed to go, too!”


She took her calendar duties very seriously. I for one appreciated

it, and I knew my father did, too, even if he did use his own

odd system to add to it. It kept all of us in line.


Together, Nancy and I figured out the rest of the week, Cooper

staying silent and, surprise surprise, on his phone. We looked

over the days, pointing and crossing out, trying in vain to find

somewhere to squeeze in a last sit-down. “It’s not going to work,”

I lamented, sinking into the chair beside her.


“Well, someone from the department needs to at least show

their face at the city events meeting,” she urged, looking pointedly

at Cooper. A notebook was now on his lap, his hand moving

swiftly over the page. He didn’t look up when she said his name

or when she repeated it a few seconds later. He was too deeply

invested in whatever he was doing.


At least he’s off the phone.


Tearing the Post-it off the calendar and balling it up in her

fist, Nancy lobbed it at him. “Cooper!” she shouted, snapping her

fingers as if she were telling a dog to sit.




He smiled at her. “I’m listening.”


“Uh-huh, we need you to take a meeting or two on Thursday

so Emma can head down to the lake to meet Drew and Luke.

Unless you’d rather take the HLBC meeting.”


“Thursday?” he repeated, sliding his phone out from behind

the notebook.


When did he take that out? He was stealthy like a teen texting

in class.


With a shrug, he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m booked all day

and I’ve got a campaign publicity debrief at noon. That’s taking

up most of the afternoon.”


“Doesn’t that just mean you and Henry are meeting at the

diner to play on Facebook and Twitter together?” I scoffed, feeling

the blood rushing to my face.


Henry was one of my and Cooper’s oldest friends. As a teacher,

he had limited time to meet up with Cooper, so I understood

Cooper’s reticence to reschedule, but—


Then it hit me. “Wait . . . why are you having mayoral meetings

during work and school? How’s Henry getting out of class to

meet you?”


Setting his phone down, he stood and straightened his tie. “I’ll

have you know, I’m meeting him at the high school. I wish I could

help, but alas—”


“You can’t,” I finished, sliding out of my chair to stand myself.


With Cooper running for mayor of Hope Lake, the brunt of

his work at the CDO was taking a backseat. I noticed, the staff

noticed, and the mayor noticed. If it had been anyone else, they

probably would have been fired, but Cooper was Hope Lake’s

golden boy. Once he was elected, we could hire someone new

to replace him. But until that happened, it fell to us to pick up

his slack.


Cooper walked toward the door, leaving his phone—aka

his most prized possession—on the conference table. Surely he

would be back in for it the second he realized it wasn’t attached

to his hand.


“Wait, you can’t leave!” Nancy called after him. “I need the

theater proposal paperwork. You guys have that meeting with the

council on Monday and the mayor wants the weekend to review

the specs. Cooper, it has to be before end of day since you have the

debate tomorrow! Everything is done, right? Please tell me it’s done.”


“It’s handled,” Cooper said smoothly over his shoulder, tapping

his temple. “And it’s not a debate. It’s a photo op, remember?

Pose, smile, shake hands. You know, the usual.”


“Thank God. I don’t have time today to do it if you didn’t,” she

said, pretend wiping her brow.


Smiling broadly, he clapped his hands together. “Oh, come on,

Nance. Have I ever left you hanging?”


Her silence spoke volumes. If she’d had the time, and the

inclination, she could have created a depressing list of how often

that had happened.


Looking uncomfortable at Nancy’s lack of response, Cooper

disappeared through the door, only to reappear two seconds later.

“That would have been bad!” he said with a tight smile, jogging

in to grab the iPhone.


“Cooper, are you sure you can’t reschedule your Thursday

plans with Henry until after work so Emma isn’t pulled in nineteen

directions?” Nancy said quickly. “It’s just about the local

sports participation in the Thanksgiving parade. They’re looking

for guidance with the floats and theming—it won’t exactly take

up all your brain space. The other is an initial meeting to see if

the CDO can finally purchase the old bank.” Nancy already had

a blue Sharpie at the ready, clutched between her fingers. “Or if

you wanted to switch with Emma, you could meet with Drew and

Luke and Emma could handle the parade instead. You’d probably

get some free beer out of it.”


For a moment, he looked like he was going to agree. His

jawline ticked anxiously, a habit he’d had since we were kids. It

appeared whenever he struggled with a decision. Reluctantly, I

admitted to myself that it was happening more often than not.


“I’m really sorry, I can’t,” he finally said. “You know how important

these meetings are for the core of my campaign. I’ve got

to run. I’m late.”


I glanced at the clock. “It’s barely four.”


“I have a thing.”


“You came in at ten because of a ‘thing.’ ” I air-quoted it because

although he said those things were for the mayoral campaign,

I didn’t believe him. Call it years of experience or just a

gut feeling. “Cooper, I need you to focus. You’re all over the place,

and things are going to start falling through the cracks here. We

can’t afford any missteps. Not when we’re under a microscope.

The council is looking for any reason to put the screws in this



Cooper’s opponent, Kirby Rogers, had been on the town council

for the past few years. He had made it his mission to strip the

CDO—funding, staff, all of it gone.


With nothing but a grimace, Cooper left, leaving no opening

for discussion. I shook my head at his retreating form.


“Forget him, I’ll figure it out,” I said, glancing between the calendar

with the work appointments and my nearly empty personal

calendar. “I can pop over to the brewery and see Drew and Luke

on my way home Tuesday or Friday night. They owe me dinner,

anyway,” I said with a weak laugh, an attempt at loosening the

anxiety-ridden ball in my stomach. How am I going to accomplish

all of this? “Just see when they’re free.” I tapped away on my

phone. Making a note, I double-checked my iPhone’s calendar as

Nancy read off the rest of the upcoming schedule.


“Emma,” she said with a heavy sigh, “I don’t want you to overwork



“I’m fine. It’s an adjustment we’re going to have to get used to

since we’re going to be picking up all the Cooper slack,” I insisted,

knowing that she was always worried about me in a big-sisterly

sort of way. “Promise,” I said after seeing her frown.


Months ago, before he had decided to run for mayor and before

he had become so distracted by the election, Cooper had been an

asset. I longed for those days. He had a gift, an ability to coax the

very best of ideas out of you, and he transformed them into solid

plans that we then presented to Mayor Dad and the town council.

His undivided input would have been valuable here.


That part of Cooper I respected and enjoyed working with.

Pre-candidate Cooper. Except lately, so much had changed. I

missed the focused Cooper. The guy who would pull together a

presentation in just a few hours. The guy I could count on to bring

the best ideas out of me when I thought I had hit a wall. Or even

the guy who got his work done on time. I hated myself a little bit

because I was missing that coworking partnership. We did make

a good team when we weren’t arguing.


“Not for anything, but you’d think he’d want to head over to

Hope Lake Brewing Company to see the guys.”


“His head was so buried in his phone, he probably didn’t hear

you mention them.”


Nancy nodded. “What do you think? Is this going to get better

or worse as the campaign progresses?” She packed up her Sharpies

and hoisted the large calendar off the table, mindful not to

drop any of the Post-its and papers tacked to it.


I slung my arm over her shoulder. “Worse. So much worse.”




(a Coach Lavender Satchel)










About Nina Bocci:


Nina Bocci is a novelist, publicist, eternal optimist, unabashed lipgloss enthusiast, constant apologist, and a hopeless romanticist. She has too many college degrees that she’s not using, and a Lego addiction that she blames on her son.


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