A blonde, a brunette, a redhead…he can have his pick
of them all on any given night and he knows it. They wait, hoping he looks up
and gives them his signature smirk, choosing them over the others because
that’s his game. 

Except now he’s signed the contract of a
lifetime, one with a pesky little clause that says his zipper must stay up and
his playboy image has got to tamp down. It’ll be fine—a piece of cake, even—he
can do this and he’s almost convinced himself of that … and then she walks in
the room 

The new PR girl whom they’ve hired to change his
image, she’s the star of all his dreams, but there’s one tiny little problem …
she can’t stand him and all of his player ways. 

He knows he only has thirty days to show her why
they call him Hollywood’s Prince. He’s up for the challenge, so game on.