A tale
as old as time—a girl, tall and wispy, hair the color of the sun, eyes as blue
as the sky, caught in a love triangle with the noblest of men…Not in this book
honey!
Okay so
maybe I am caught up in a love triangle, but I’m sure as hell not running
through a field of daisies in a sun dress. My name is Elizabeth and I’ve
managed to avoid men for most of my life. I wasn’t a nun by any means, but I
know what the hot guys want—and it usually isn’t me. How I got myself involved
in a love triangle with one sexy photographer and a millionaire bachelor, who
had women worshiping the ground he walked on,is beyond me. Yet, here I am,
attempting to navigate waters that I’ve never expected to. Trying to figure out
which man was right for me, dealing with my family—and have I told you about
the paparazzi? Well, it’s all really making me rethink the situation. Who do I
trust? Who’s being genuine? What should I do if both men are perfect for me in
different ways? How the hell am I supposed to choose just one? Or better yet do
I have to choose just one?
Chapter
1
Beth
M
|
y heart
rate accelerated as we pull up to the popular DC night club, Mood. I was
currently sitting in a limo that my brothers sent over to retrieve my best
friend Gia and me. Taking a steadying breath, I took a peek out the window. Of
course, they had a small red carpet set out for celebrities and socialites like
my brothers.
Let me
make this a little clearer, I don’t do this.
I didn’t
go out dressed up like I was right now. I glanced back at Gia who looked
anything but anxious. She was in her element right now, and I…well, I was not!
I
preferred sitting at home reading a good book. It was a passion of mine. My
Gran was an avid reader. What could I say? I took after her and my mother, who
happened to have been an editor in-chief for a big publishing company. I guess
I could have followed in her footsteps, but I had a passion for History. With
only a few classes left, I was well on my way to restoring books at the Library
of Congress. Still, no matter how many books I’d read, nothing could prepare me
for nights like tonight.
Sure
limos, nice dresses, socialites, photographers, it all sounded like a great
time, and maybe it was, but not for me. Do you have any idea how difficult
it is to find an appealing outfit for a size twelve, tall,
curvy,twenty-three-year-old? Well I’ll tell you, it’s nearly impossible!
Sure
there were things in my size, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was
feeling exposed, and not in a good way—the bad way, like
every-inch-of-fat-had-been-magnified-by-tight-fabric way. Even Gia, the fashion
stylist in training, hada hard time finding me something to wear. It was
mortifying.
I didn’t
know what I was more worried about, falling on my ass or getting my picture
taken. Oh, right. It was falling on my ass while getting my picture
taken. I tried my hardest to get Gia to go in the side entrance, but clearly, I
lost that battle.
Gia
stepped out first, thankfully. The cameras were snapping away like crazy, but
why wouldn’t they be? She looked like a movie star in her short gray dress and
sparkling heels. Smiling at the cameras and swaying her long blonde hair, she
posed like it was second nature to her.
Taking a
deep breath, I closed my eyes. I could do this. Just get out of the car
and don’t fall on your ass. With one last, quick prayer, I scooted over
and let my foot glide out of the limo. Holding on tight to the door handle, I
exited the limo and cautiously made my way over toward the sea of cameras. I
clung tight to the shawl that was covering most of the red dress that I had
finally found, after hours of shopping with Gia.
I
stopped moving when the photographers started snapping a few pictures. Maybe
they thought I was a lighter haired Kardashian or something. It didn’t take but
a few seconds for them to find out I wasn’t.
“She’s
nobody!” I heard one of the snakes say to his neighbor.
Knives,
meet my heart…ouch! I wanted to run back to the limo or into the safety of the
dark club, but I couldn’t move. I glanced over in Gia’s direction where she was
using her hands to take off an invisible jacket. I guessed she was telling me
to take my shawl off? I couldn’t help but think that this was a very stupid
idea. And, of course, against my better judgment, I did it anyway.
I
quickly un-wrapped the fabric. My long, wavy, brown hair fell against my bare
back and exposed cleavage. The unseasonably, cool air brushed against my arms,
making a chill run up my spine. This dress was perfect, practically made for
me. It hit all my curves and pushed my boobs and ass up too. But most
importantly, it flattened my stomach—magic!
The wall
of cameras turns back to me. I guess they think I might be someone worth
photographing after all.
“Red
Dress—Red dress, can we get a name?”
I turned
in the direction of the warm voice and felt the heat rise to my cheeks.
Embarrassment? Flattery? I tried to make out the person calling to me as I
scanned the wall of photographers. My eyes were instantly drawn to a handsome
man with shaggy, sandy hair and muscular build. Well, I’d like to think it was
muscles under the sweat shirt he had on. I squinted to get a better look but
lost sight of him as the flashes went off.
“A name?”
another man called.
“Elizabeth
Monroe,” I answered back.
All
about me in Five Questions or less
Question
1 – What makes you, you?
What
makes me, me? Well, I was born and raised in Central Maryland. I now live with
my wonderful husband and four, energetic children. My day to day consists of
getting kids ready for school, answering e-mails, writing, editing, and making
breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Writing has always been a passion of mine. My
grandmother gave me my first journal when I was in the third grade. I wrote in
it almost every day, and I still try to write in it as often as I can. Before I
started my first novel and became a stay at home mom, I worked in daycare. I
loved it! Never a dull moment when you have 15 kids running around!
No comments:
Post a Comment